[She spoke of it as if it were something she could do and had done with ease a thousand times, but the fact remained that though she had passed sixteen, an adult by growth standards of her race, whose longevity hovered between that expected of human and horse... she had not yet fully been unleashed onto the battlefield despite all her training, all her efforts to make sure that when she was purchased it would be for that.
She had been captured before she could even make her first kill of a fellow warrior, and the shame of it ate through her daily, leaving her only able to devote herself even more strongly to the ideals she'd clung to for so long. She would be a Warrior. Worthwhile, strong, loyal, and desirable by lords for service.
She would bring him those trophies and prove her worth.
And he speaks like she'd always imagined the lord she would have might sound, though perhaps slightly more gentle than she'd had experience with, basing that fantasy image on the stable Master and the nobles who came to call on Exhibition Day.
Duty. If she had duty, she could not be lost. (Right?)]
I will endeavor in all things to bring honor to your name, no matter the orders ALASTAIR hands down.
[If there was a way to do dishonorable things like theft honorably, she would have to find a way.
But that reminds her of another matter, and she moves from her bow to straighten up and reach for the pouch she wore on one of the belts strapped around the deer hide at her waist, pulling out a piece of parchment and what she has been told is a "pen".]
... to that aim, I must ask for your family crest.
[... Which now that she says it, probably requires explanation, offering him the items.]
We are to dress formally for the upcoming banquet, and I believe I have adequately explained the garments I require to this place's weavers. The archery brace traditionally display's the owner's mark.
[She doesn't quite realize that she said "owner" instead of "lord", having worn her stable master's brand in lieu of anything else for so long.]
As I would endeavor to not lead the two of us into further disrepute.
[ Like her, he is sore at the idea of becoming a thief. Though ALASTAIR speaks of dangers he is uncertain of, this is the only path he knows to walk - and he cannot allow Hayame to know of his concerns. For her, he must be composed and in control. There is no alternative, if he wished to be viewed well by her, if he wished to do well by her. It keeps him in relative control, as he spends time in her company and the company of the others. In private, he can fear and quake and drown as he second-guesses himself and this lie he continues to perform for her and for Audentes.
She offers him a pen and parchment, and his fingers twitch briefly as she asks for the crest of his family.
( He thinks of his mother; the Noah to whom he solely belongs. And then he thinks of his father's eyes, and he knows what he must do. ) ]
It is, thankfully, a simple design. [ And he kneels, for a moment, to sketch the design - the cross upon his ring, the light embelleshing and scrolling patterns surrounding it. The colors, black on red. The emblem of the Regis of Chaos - the thing that does not, has not and would never be his. But, if she wears the Regis's crest... he has a better chance of bargaining for her security, if his father were ever to find himself here. ]
It matches, [ and as he hands her the parchment, he turns his hand to display the ring --
and pauses. ]
I -- [ "owner", she said. ] Hayame, am I -- please, you don't think of me as your owner, do you?
[If a disgraced warrior silent about her disgrace and an exiled prince silent about his exile are even capable of raising themselves from the pits of disrepute, perhaps they may see it done.
She has no reason to doubt that the crest he draws and offers her is his own, particularly since he shows her the ring along with it. Any young general or prince she expects would have their own kao seal, their own battle standard derived from their father or clan... so she accepts it for his. The parchment she accepts respectfully with both hands, bowing slightly over it and bringing it almost to her forehead in a gesture of accepting something from ones superior before she begins to fold it and place it back in her pouch.
It isn't until he speaks and asks that she even realizes what she said- or realizes that it might be something worth questioning at all.]
...
[It felt like a loaded question, somehow, despite how matter of fact it should have been in her own world. The way he looks at her-]
I would have it known that my loyalty to you is just as strong as if you had purchased it.
[Me.]
As equal to or stronger than two-legged loyalty you may have received by virtue of clan promise or milk mother.
[That was the reassurance he required, was it not?]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
She had been captured before she could even make her first kill of a fellow warrior, and the shame of it ate through her daily, leaving her only able to devote herself even more strongly to the ideals she'd clung to for so long. She would be a Warrior. Worthwhile, strong, loyal, and desirable by lords for service.
She would bring him those trophies and prove her worth.
And he speaks like she'd always imagined the lord she would have might sound, though perhaps slightly more gentle than she'd had experience with, basing that fantasy image on the stable Master and the nobles who came to call on Exhibition Day.
Duty. If she had duty, she could not be lost. (Right?)]
I will endeavor in all things to bring honor to your name, no matter the orders ALASTAIR hands down.
[If there was a way to do dishonorable things like theft honorably, she would have to find a way.
But that reminds her of another matter, and she moves from her bow to straighten up and reach for the pouch she wore on one of the belts strapped around the deer hide at her waist, pulling out a piece of parchment and what she has been told is a "pen".]
... to that aim, I must ask for your family crest.
[... Which now that she says it, probably requires explanation, offering him the items.]
We are to dress formally for the upcoming banquet, and I believe I have adequately explained the garments I require to this place's weavers. The archery brace traditionally display's the owner's mark.
[She doesn't quite realize that she said "owner" instead of "lord", having worn her stable master's brand in lieu of anything else for so long.]
no subject
[ Like her, he is sore at the idea of becoming a thief. Though ALASTAIR speaks of dangers he is uncertain of, this is the only path he knows to walk - and he cannot allow Hayame to know of his concerns. For her, he must be composed and in control. There is no alternative, if he wished to be viewed well by her, if he wished to do well by her. It keeps him in relative control, as he spends time in her company and the company of the others. In private, he can fear and quake and drown as he second-guesses himself and this lie he continues to perform for her and for Audentes.
She offers him a pen and parchment, and his fingers twitch briefly as she asks for the crest of his family.
( He thinks of his mother; the Noah to whom he solely belongs. And then he thinks of his father's eyes, and he knows what he must do. ) ]
It is, thankfully, a simple design. [ And he kneels, for a moment, to sketch the design - the cross upon his ring, the light embelleshing and scrolling patterns surrounding it. The colors, black on red. The emblem of the Regis of Chaos - the thing that does not, has not and would never be his. But, if she wears the Regis's crest... he has a better chance of bargaining for her security, if his father were ever to find himself here. ]
It matches, [ and as he hands her the parchment, he turns his hand to display the ring --
and pauses. ]
I -- [ "owner", she said. ] Hayame, am I -- please, you don't think of me as your owner, do you?
no subject
She has no reason to doubt that the crest he draws and offers her is his own, particularly since he shows her the ring along with it. Any young general or prince she expects would have their own kao seal, their own battle standard derived from their father or clan... so she accepts it for his. The parchment she accepts respectfully with both hands, bowing slightly over it and bringing it almost to her forehead in a gesture of accepting something from ones superior before she begins to fold it and place it back in her pouch.
It isn't until he speaks and asks that she even realizes what she said- or realizes that it might be something worth questioning at all.]
...
[It felt like a loaded question, somehow, despite how matter of fact it should have been in her own world. The way he looks at her-]
I would have it known that my loyalty to you is just as strong as if you had purchased it.
[Me.]
As equal to or stronger than two-legged loyalty you may have received by virtue of clan promise or milk mother.
[That was the reassurance he required, was it not?]