WESSEX
Averting her gaze in a gesture that isn’t prudish, but respectful, Wessex waits for them to settle themselves into the new piece of clothing. And the twist, it sends her back into the past for a moment, back to watching someone else who liked to wear dresses, someone else thankful for a gift. It’s been too long since she’s given anything but weapons or advice or death. A pleasant warmth seeps into her, something internally fueled.
Loki, whatever she thinks, heads towards the stained shift that now lies in a barely-there pile on the floor, the people forgotten for now.
“An emissary?” the Queen echoes, tilting her head with a curious kind of consideration. Such a fancy word for an unassuming person. She isn’t one to tell her siblings how to live their lives (well, that’s not entirely true), but Ophelia might be a little too late. Wessex’s gaze grows momentarily distant as her lips purse, mulling something through.
“Well, we have more than a few people who’d be happy to help you learn to fight, that’s not a problem. But are you - aware of the state of things outside the Grounds? The way lines are being drawn and the choices being made - and how?”
Loki, whatever she thinks, heads towards the stained shift that now lies in a barely-there pile on the floor, the people forgotten for now.
“An emissary?” the Queen echoes, tilting her head with a curious kind of consideration. Such a fancy word for an unassuming person. She isn’t one to tell her siblings how to live their lives (well, that’s not entirely true), but Ophelia might be a little too late. Wessex’s gaze grows momentarily distant as her lips purse, mulling something through.
“Well, we have more than a few people who’d be happy to help you learn to fight, that’s not a problem. But are you - aware of the state of things outside the Grounds? The way lines are being drawn and the choices being made - and how?”
there was a time that we were kind, but now
don't write me, you're not fooling anyone
don't write me, you're not fooling anyone
