[ She stands, shoulders back, feet apart, sword at her hip and gold in her hair. Her eyes down and her face imperious as she looks at him. Doesn't offer to help him, nor console or comfort those pained breaths as they fall his lips, thready and straining on the crisp air. She should kneel down to him, she should take him by the throat again and instead of giving him promises, see what he would give her. Hold her fingers tight to see if his pretty eyes would go colour of the trees of his homeland, where they're so red they're dark. Because, no, she doesn't want to look at him, either, but she does want to watch this.
Rather, she takes them as her price. Drawn in like shared air, her own measured to be deep and even to his uneven desperation. Eyes lowered to him and watching like stones watch, worn away at all her edges and standing yet. When she's determined he's been there long enough, her head tilts that little, the flat pendants swinging with the movement. Back and forth and back again.
This suits him, she thinks this suits him better than his flattery or his mocking. His desperation was at least honest. ]
There now, two things from your mouth I can trust.
[ She is not his Queen, she will never be his Queen, but like this, he will fall when she commands it and rise as she bids him. ]
no u
Rather, she takes them as her price. Drawn in like shared air, her own measured to be deep and even to his uneven desperation. Eyes lowered to him and watching like stones watch, worn away at all her edges and standing yet. When she's determined he's been there long enough, her head tilts that little, the flat pendants swinging with the movement. Back and forth and back again.
This suits him, she thinks this suits him better than his flattery or his mocking. His desperation was at least honest. ]
There now, two things from your mouth I can trust.
[ She is not his Queen, she will never be his Queen, but like this, he will fall when she commands it and rise as she bids him. ]
Get up.