[ He gave up the jar easily enough, he remained cordial and quiet throughout their initial exchange, and he doesn't miss a beat when it's time to intercede once more. To remind them both that while they may wish to discard him, turn their backs on his presence and find some succor in each other, this situation is of his making, for his reasons.
That boyish body shouldn't be able to produce the iron-like chill of the words that come next, very much a gust of air from ancient, grass-covered barrows — a harmonic that comes faintly but deeply, from holes just as old as whatever lies beneath the Hill. From within slabs of rough hewn stone floated down rivers that ran when humans cringed beneath the night sky, except for those who ventured out into the darkness with open eyes. ]
Not just yet.
[ Power borrowed, that's all, and it's completely gone from him after the pause in which he makes sure he has Qetzi'ah's attention. ]
You accept my gift, Mistress Morrison.
[ The use of the title is sweetly deliberate, pleasant in the servility resumed from their first encounter in the kitchen. A magus might have been speaking a moment ago, but the apprentice is all that remains to converse now, it seems. To make promises in casual honorifics. ]
I'll be happy to relay that to my masters. I hope you will think kindly of us, in the future.
[ With that, he bows once, to a moderate depth. Still nominally less deferential than he is to Haran, but unmistakably more so than his nod from the kitchen. He turns slightly, in effect dismissing himself before they can tell him to fuck off, only waiting to be sure she has no more interest in saying anything to him. ]
no subject
That boyish body shouldn't be able to produce the iron-like chill of the words that come next, very much a gust of air from ancient, grass-covered barrows — a harmonic that comes faintly but deeply, from holes just as old as whatever lies beneath the Hill. From within slabs of rough hewn stone floated down rivers that ran when humans cringed beneath the night sky, except for those who ventured out into the darkness with open eyes. ]
Not just yet.
[ Power borrowed, that's all, and it's completely gone from him after the pause in which he makes sure he has Qetzi'ah's attention. ]
You accept my gift, Mistress Morrison.
[ The use of the title is sweetly deliberate, pleasant in the servility resumed from their first encounter in the kitchen. A magus might have been speaking a moment ago, but the apprentice is all that remains to converse now, it seems. To make promises in casual honorifics. ]
I'll be happy to relay that to my masters. I hope you will think kindly of us, in the future.
[ With that, he bows once, to a moderate depth. Still nominally less deferential than he is to Haran, but unmistakably more so than his nod from the kitchen. He turns slightly, in effect dismissing himself before they can tell him to fuck off, only waiting to be sure she has no more interest in saying anything to him. ]