It is her turn to be reminded. He did not come from her world, he did not even look like the men of her world did, for they were paler of skin and darker of hair. She had never seen a human man possess eyes of jade, like he had. ... But he was still human, the same species that had hunted hers down in the field and peaks, enslaving them and breeding them until a once proud race had become tools for wars they hadn't started. In her desperation, she had once managed to let a god lay hands upon her, because she knew that shape meant nothing to a divinity able to change his own at whim. She had managed to let a human woman touch her, because... because she was a woman, but-
Could she allow it? Would there not come a point when she began to flinch away or feel her gut roil in learned disgust? She doesn't... She doesn't know, and she is afraid to find out. She is afraid to see the look that might cross his face, if he were to see fear on hers instead of pleasure.
Hayame's fingers curl, and she pulls the hand to her breast. Should she have asked for his shard? No, she didn't... It had felt so overwhelming, so undeniable, when she had held it directly, and she does not know if she can maintain decorum if she had it. Instead, she thinks... she thinks of what he had said in the dark of the roots, her tail flicking anxiously behind her. She thinks of what Akua had said, again, about how she mustn't think of others' choices as betrayals...
But she had felt only that, beneath the eyes of the Iconoclast Oracle. Her strength and her companionship had not been enough to keep Liem Talbott from turning to Zenith, her words weren't enough to sway Amos, her offerings and his blessing weren't enough to keep Set from gallivanting with all of her enemies, their pact wasn't enough to stop Akua from interfering with her revenge on the demon who had taken her eye... None of it was enough. She hadn't been enough for them.
And it felt pathetic, and small, and womanly, but she wanted... she wanted to be chosen. Was it so wrong? Was it so impossible in this place, where loyalty wasn't shape by the rigid honor code she understood? Set had chosen Silco. Amos had chosen Yima. Liem had chosen Zenith. Akua had chosen Sebastian. At least, that is how it had felt to her in the moment, hot with the fury that always flickered inside of her, ready to roar to life all too easily. But Claude... Khalid-]
... You said you would be on my side. No matter what.
[When he'd thought the world was ending, and surely she could only wreak so much more havoc in the roots. A hard swallow forces it's way down her throat, and she fights to keep the weakness out of her voice, to sound strong and sure. Finally, she turns back to face him, her expression twisted with shame and longing to believe.]
Is it still true? You will stand by me, even when Zenith comes for my head? Even if I make enemies of half of Meridian? Even if I call you a fool and turn from your compromises and your talks?
no subject
It is her turn to be reminded. He did not come from her world, he did not even look like the men of her world did, for they were paler of skin and darker of hair. She had never seen a human man possess eyes of jade, like he had. ... But he was still human, the same species that had hunted hers down in the field and peaks, enslaving them and breeding them until a once proud race had become tools for wars they hadn't started. In her desperation, she had once managed to let a god lay hands upon her, because she knew that shape meant nothing to a divinity able to change his own at whim. She had managed to let a human woman touch her, because... because she was a woman, but-
Could she allow it? Would there not come a point when she began to flinch away or feel her gut roil in learned disgust? She doesn't... She doesn't know, and she is afraid to find out. She is afraid to see the look that might cross his face, if he were to see fear on hers instead of pleasure.
Hayame's fingers curl, and she pulls the hand to her breast. Should she have asked for his shard? No, she didn't... It had felt so overwhelming, so undeniable, when she had held it directly, and she does not know if she can maintain decorum if she had it. Instead, she thinks... she thinks of what he had said in the dark of the roots, her tail flicking anxiously behind her. She thinks of what Akua had said, again, about how she mustn't think of others' choices as betrayals...
But she had felt only that, beneath the eyes of the Iconoclast Oracle. Her strength and her companionship had not been enough to keep Liem Talbott from turning to Zenith, her words weren't enough to sway Amos, her offerings and his blessing weren't enough to keep Set from gallivanting with all of her enemies, their pact wasn't enough to stop Akua from interfering with her revenge on the demon who had taken her eye... None of it was enough. She hadn't been enough for them.
And it felt pathetic, and small, and womanly, but she wanted... she wanted to be chosen. Was it so wrong? Was it so impossible in this place, where loyalty wasn't shape by the rigid honor code she understood? Set had chosen Silco. Amos had chosen Yima. Liem had chosen Zenith. Akua had chosen Sebastian. At least, that is how it had felt to her in the moment, hot with the fury that always flickered inside of her, ready to roar to life all too easily. But Claude... Khalid-]
... You said you would be on my side. No matter what.
[When he'd thought the world was ending, and surely she could only wreak so much more havoc in the roots. A hard swallow forces it's way down her throat, and she fights to keep the weakness out of her voice, to sound strong and sure. Finally, she turns back to face him, her expression twisted with shame and longing to believe.]
Is it still true? You will stand by me, even when Zenith comes for my head? Even if I make enemies of half of Meridian? Even if I call you a fool and turn from your compromises and your talks?