[ She extends her hand, letting it swing from her fingers. A pendulum of price, back and forth, back and forth. It glitters in the oil lamp light, as her gold does. Easily held her grasp. ]
And you, Ragnar Lothbrok? Is blood and gold enough to buy you?
[ His stories said it would be enough, said it wouldn't be enough, either. He asked for one thing, meant another, was known for his turns and twists. She could not sure until it was all done. ]
[ A brief moment he watches the jewel sway about in the air, like a piece of meat dangled in front of a hungry lion. He could snatch it from her then but his hands stay, mouth curved into a sharp grin. ]
This? [ He chuckles and leans back, looking at her from half lidded eyes. ] I suppose it can suffice, if there is nothing else you are willing to offer.
[ He is a greedy man after all, for gold, for knowledge. ]
[ It is pendulum weight in her hands, swinging back and forth in a steady measure of time. She watches him in turn, like she was doing the same. ]
No, not that comes to my mind. [ she lets the chain loose slowly between her fingers. Slipping down in a slithering noise until it falls free and lands heavy against the fur. There, settled, as far as his men are concerned. Her eyes upon him smile curling brief and flickering before she clears her throat, and her fingers come up to the buttons of her over jacket. The meaning is clear. She will vanish like smoke out from under him soon enough.
She is not here as the price. He has his payment. He will need to give her something back first. So she carries on all business like. Purposeful ignoring. There one second, and she will be gone the next. ] I should let you rest. You have your men to muster, and I have my own preparations to do. So if you can think of nothing else?
[ Clear enough. He laughs short, head tilting as her fingers button away her skin. Not so desperate to put herself forward, this proud queen, he prefers it this way. There would be no enjoyment in a victory won so easily. ]
Then it shall do. [ He takes the jewel from the furs, twisting the chain around his fingers, traces of warmth still clinging to the gold. ] A prize to keep any man warm at night.
[ He will sleep well with promise of chaos to warm him, if he sleeps at all. Perhaps he will prowl the streets when she vanishes from his sight, leaving nothing but wisps of smoke, inspect the battlefield before the battle. ]
I would not imagine keeping you. [ Even if he wanted too he is sure he couldn't. She is untouchable. ] You are free to leave, Your Majesty.
[ She nods, brief, before she steps away. Goes about wrapping her scarf around her neck again, holding the once rich, now threadbare thread in her fingers, ready to pull it up. The gold at its edges shining dimly. ]
Mortal men, perhaps. I wonder if gold soothes time?
[ And time is the only thing they have, after all, a crinkle to the corner of her eye. Yes, it would buy the men downstairs respite for a time. It would fill their lives because their lives were ending as they begun, it is about filling the space in the middle.
What was there for them that couldn't be sure if their end was tomorrow or hundreds of years from now? ]
I thank you, King Ragnar. [ The hood comes up, hiding away the rest of her, framing her face, blending her back into the depths and murk of Whitechapel. ] Ask for me in anywhere in Whitechapel, when you have made ready. I shall be there, soon enough, and there will be work to follow.
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no subject
And you, Ragnar Lothbrok? Is blood and gold enough to buy you?
[ His stories said it would be enough, said it wouldn't be enough, either. He asked for one thing, meant another, was known for his turns and twists. She could not sure until it was all done. ]
no subject
This? [ He chuckles and leans back, looking at her from half lidded eyes. ] I suppose it can suffice, if there is nothing else you are willing to offer.
[ He is a greedy man after all, for gold, for knowledge. ]
no subject
No, not that comes to my mind. [ she lets the chain loose slowly between her fingers. Slipping down in a slithering noise until it falls free and lands heavy against the fur. There, settled, as far as his men are concerned. Her eyes upon him smile curling brief and flickering before she clears her throat, and her fingers come up to the buttons of her over jacket. The meaning is clear. She will vanish like smoke out from under him soon enough.
She is not here as the price. He has his payment. He will need to give her something back first. So she carries on all business like. Purposeful ignoring. There one second, and she will be gone the next. ] I should let you rest. You have your men to muster, and I have my own preparations to do. So if you can think of nothing else?
no subject
Then it shall do. [ He takes the jewel from the furs, twisting the chain around his fingers, traces of warmth still clinging to the gold. ] A prize to keep any man warm at night.
[ He will sleep well with promise of chaos to warm him, if he sleeps at all. Perhaps he will prowl the streets when she vanishes from his sight, leaving nothing but wisps of smoke, inspect the battlefield before the battle. ]
I would not imagine keeping you. [ Even if he wanted too he is sure he couldn't. She is untouchable. ] You are free to leave, Your Majesty.
no subject
Mortal men, perhaps. I wonder if gold soothes time?
[ And time is the only thing they have, after all, a crinkle to the corner of her eye. Yes, it would buy the men downstairs respite for a time. It would fill their lives because their lives were ending as they begun, it is about filling the space in the middle.
What was there for them that couldn't be sure if their end was tomorrow or hundreds of years from now? ]
I thank you, King Ragnar. [ The hood comes up, hiding away the rest of her, framing her face, blending her back into the depths and murk of Whitechapel. ] Ask for me in anywhere in Whitechapel, when you have made ready. I shall be there, soon enough, and there will be work to follow.