Smother
Conversations with diplomats are like the communication between fingers and bomb wires. The delicacy, the hazard, the chance that a conversation can switch from balanced to hostile, that is the true art of disarming a bomb.
She adjusts her stance, feeling the energy of Magnus turn from steady to shrill. Feeling his entire body seize, and his aura go red. Her eyes narrow, though she doesn’t flinch.
Something about him.
Something incredibly familiar about his anger here, now.
Almost too eerily like her father.
“I know you.” But do I?
I flick my tail, a sign of annoyance and aggravation. My blue eyes are scalding with intensity as he speaks. The Gates may be open to having past murderers and sinners, but are those scoundrels not searching for a place to better themselves? I wish not to better myself, I wish to put myself to action.
I wish to kill, and eventually be killed, and would the Gates tolerate such longing?
I hear Turkish to my left let out a slowly painful hiss that tickles my ear and sends the slightest bit of a chill up my spine. My eyes flicker to him, to his expression that appears to vague and blank. He is a master of controlling his outward emotion, a wizard at presenting himself without going over the line.
I envy his talent in remaining calm, but firm.
I am either a level one, or a level twenty, there is no in between for me.
I go to speak, for the first time really without Turkish mumbling in my head when a female arrives on the scene.
I watch her, I recognize her.
I like her.
Of course you do.
“That offer still stands?” I question, my voice still a chilly ice cold from the previous energy of Magnus, it still wafts over me like a breeze. I ignore the consistent complaints of Turkish in the back of my head, the complaints of choosing the Gates over the Deserts and the consistent mumble of poor decisions.
We are a partnership, after all.
“Magnus I appreciate your offer,” and although I long to push forward how I know him… How I can place his characteristics in a line of recognition, I know this is the best decision for not only I, but Turkish as well. “Unfortunately, I don’t see myself in Heaven’s Gates. I am not sure if I will fit anywhere, to be completely honest. However I am more of a Devil’s Door sort of girl, and I won’t be thrown out of my home again.”
Thank you.
Yes.
“Lagertha, would you rather me follow you there, or am I alright to just head over?” After all, I had never needed anyone to hold my hand.
