rowancrowned | fade rift ✧ inbox

( gwenaëlle doesn't linger that long with flint, all things considered—says her piece, hears his, a drink in companionably unhappy quiet. she leaves reassured but drained, disappointed, and unsure in several directions that are not (to thranduil's probable disappointment in turn) the one marked 'whether or not to continue trusting flint'. for all that hardie spends the entire conversation with his head on flint's thigh, he trots after her when she leaves, and they—walk.

a while.

kitty has gone, by the time that she returns. she bypasses her husband entirely, ushering hardie ahead of her and going to sit before her mirror and undo her hair without greeting him. )

( kitty helped him clean up, and the bed's sheets are turned down, the nug asleep on the foot, if severely disappointed in the lack of dog to sleep on. he sits at his smaller desk, dressed for bed, hair undressed around his shoulders, and says- )

I almost called the Duc. I thought you went to Hightown.

( in orlesian. )

( in his tongue she returns, ) Barefoot? ( so mildly as to suggest the tumult underneath the surface.

she's never so steady unless she's readying aim. )

( he cannot help but smile as he responds in the same, )

You have been braver before.

( the look he receives from her in the mirror is chillier, which not unpredictably precedes, )

If you're so invested in my leaving, there's still time.

( she hadn't intended, but she's prepared to change her mind. )

I feared it, ( he says, and he sets down his papers. ) I did not say I wanted it.

Were you satisfied with your discussion with him?

( is it splitting hairs to narrowly interpret that question only so far as it goes, and not a broader invitation to discuss that conversation?

probably. but she was specific, and she's decided to be fucking pedantic about it— )

Inasmuch as it was possible to be. I hope you're very satisfied with what you achieved.

( she doesn't sound like she means that. )

I do not think she has lost her fear entirely, but she is no longer panicking, ( he says. his own hair is in a braid, and he slides down in the bed to rest his head on the pillow, but keeps watching her. )

And if you hadn't decided to go in with your fear-mongering horseshit, that might have happened faster and without all of this nonsense hassle.

( she's too calm not to be furious. )

I will not dismiss anyone who comes to me asking for protection.

( it's- old. there are no oaths any more, but he is still compelled by the obligation. )

He has already behaved in a way that is unbecoming to his position. I do not know him; I do not know what value he places on her life.

And it didn't occur to you to discuss any of that with me before you sprang a lot of paranoid, unhelpful horseshit—

( she really stresses the word, drawing it out, underlining it, )

—and blindsided me by expecting my mind to dribble out my ears so I'd be ignorant enough to play along with whatever half-baked theatrical performance that was supposed to fucking be.

'Unbecoming to his position'. And what the fuck was this? Because it wasn't you protecting anyone. I won't applaud you for pissing gasoline onto an open flame.

She was frightened. Has been frightened. I thought your presence would comfort her.

( what gives him pause is- )

You thought that a performance?

What was I supposed to think? ( with great disdain. ) How exactly was I supposed to comfort her, Thranduil? Did you imagine I would just sit there silently while you took advantage of her fear to make a bad situation worse? I can't comfort someone you are encouraging to be afraid at the same time.

If you want to play power games with your colleagues, do it in your own fucking time and without using people I care for as pawns.

This is not a game, ( disgusted enough with the concept that the word feels like filth in his mouth, ) do you truly- truly, Gwenaëlle, not just in anger- think so little of me?

Thranduil, I don't know what other fucking conclusion you expect me to have drawn.

( it's flatly said. )

The only thing more ridiculous than what you just ambushed me with is the idea that there was any remote likelihood of my taking it at all seriously.

Do you suspect Kitty is lying, or was the way she said he behaved in agreement with the way he usually conducts himself? ( he asks. )

Kitty is afraid because when she's angered people before she's been right to be. And he was angry with her, but he behaved no differently than you do, ( pointedly, gesturing to him in the mirror with her comb, ) and I don't recall everyone who's frustrated you ending up at the bottom of the fucking harbor.

Do him the basic courtesy he extends you of not assuming he's an incompetent, impetuous fool. As far as I can see, right now he deserves it more than you do. You were so quick to leap to the first conclusion that suited you-

She's in no danger from him. Encouraging her to actually work against someone who isn't threatening her might well fucking change that, so I hope you haven't irreparably fucked anything up you can't protect her from. If she crosses a line she can't come back from because you made her believe it was right, I will hold you personally responsible.

fade rift ✧ inbox

returning from flint's office.

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