neron
Neron stood stock still as he waited for the hammer to fall, for the citadel walls to shatter and crumble, for the guards to shout and for chaos to run riot until either his empire or his... or Zariah were nothing more than ashes. So as she moved to stand by the window instead he damn near flinched, watching her back with cold eyes and an expression best described as wary.
"I don't?" he echoed, thrown off by her words and clearly not understanding it, believing her initial statements to have been lies... until she continued. Quiet understanding dawned upon his face, twisted only by mention of the man he had tried to forget existed. "Survival is more important than living, in Halo. Those who survive can make a life for themselves," he said softly. It was how he had been, and it was how the people of the citadel were. He was as much part of them now as they were him.
"I am still a Launceleyn," he said quietly, sure of that if nothing else and gazing down at her as she approached, sneaking into his personal space and oozing into all of the hidden cracks in his icy facade. "I have only ever been alone, since I arrived here. Forgive a man for growing too used to the cold."
But then she spoke of leading, of equality, and he faltered. Trust was not an easy thing, and part of him balked at lifting Zariah to a height equal to his own, given how much power she had always had for so long. But she was right, at the end of it. And whilst he would not be so easily fooled any longer, he would admit that it was smart to welcome her into the citadel.
"I will sleep on it," he said slowly, deliberately. "In the meantime, you are welcome to stay here. Is that agreeable to you?"
"I don't?" he echoed, thrown off by her words and clearly not understanding it, believing her initial statements to have been lies... until she continued. Quiet understanding dawned upon his face, twisted only by mention of the man he had tried to forget existed. "Survival is more important than living, in Halo. Those who survive can make a life for themselves," he said softly. It was how he had been, and it was how the people of the citadel were. He was as much part of them now as they were him.
"I am still a Launceleyn," he said quietly, sure of that if nothing else and gazing down at her as she approached, sneaking into his personal space and oozing into all of the hidden cracks in his icy facade. "I have only ever been alone, since I arrived here. Forgive a man for growing too used to the cold."
But then she spoke of leading, of equality, and he faltered. Trust was not an easy thing, and part of him balked at lifting Zariah to a height equal to his own, given how much power she had always had for so long. But she was right, at the end of it. And whilst he would not be so easily fooled any longer, he would admit that it was smart to welcome her into the citadel.
"I will sleep on it," he said slowly, deliberately. "In the meantime, you are welcome to stay here. Is that agreeable to you?"
you're so cold, put your hand in mine
