Nephele idly taps her fingers on the table between them, considering their options. "Stormbreak does not seem like a viable option for meat by way of their construction, but opening negotiations should be a priority to open up any information on The Order even if they cannot supply much materially." They would not base their political friendship on the information itself of course, that would be far too forward and leave the Fae at a disadvantage. "Play on the assumption you mention, but let them try and work to earn us. We would have the advantage in negotiations almost eternally with how we border the Grounds." They would vie eagerly for both the spying opportunities and environmental benefits in wartime, and the Fae would frankly give them neither.
It is a comfort that Juniper's efforts have not been too successful, for all Nephele wants nothing but good things for the woman. Forgiveness will never be an option for Nephele. The notion of allying with the Ascended in any way makes her stomach churn. Nearly as badly as it does when she carefully words her experience in a way she knows Juniper will take at face value; Nephele had been known for nearly fifty years for her forthrightness long before they met, and it is a burden she must bear that she must now deceive those closest to her. It protects them from the truth of her betrayal and the pain it would cause, yes, but Nephele knows her good intentions do not absolve her of her sins. "Sunjata may be more trustworthy than his husband, I don't know. But we can't be too careful," is her subdued response. As grateful as she is that Juniper will be more cautious, her heart aches to deceive the younger Fae in any way.
For once, the knowledge is safe to be given; Nephele has met the bookseller before, when she'd had a more scientific curiosity for the Ascended. "I have met him once before, I'm not surprised he is open to the idea. I think you were right to deny Wessex however; tangling with the Order is too great a price." She suffuses her tone with praise, wanting to bolster Juniper however she can after having rocked the woman's worldview with what she'd said of Nate. It's a moment that doesn't last long, her own reaction to the notion of children far more violent.
Nephele rears back, catching herself halfway to standing as fury burns like magma in her veins, threatening to find any viable exit to burn the world with. "Children? That is horrific, Juniper!" Her voice shakes with the force of her emotion, terror and despair and fury and so much more she cannot parse. It is a Herculean task to force herself back down into her chair, though her fingers grip the table's edge all the same. "That's - it must be impossible. They tote her dedication to consent like a shield, telling anyone who will listen that she is blameless because she will not Ascend those who are incapable of making the choice. Have we been wrong all this time? Is she changing children now? Was it a ruse?" Her breaths come faster, the questions more musings given voice than inquiries directed to Juniper. With the lifespans of Fae, it feels acutely more monstrous to envision human children Ascending - how old could they be? Ten, fifteen? It makes her stomach heave with the urge to throw up, and Nephele can't imagine what Juniper must see on her face. She feels...shattered. And she knows that she must seek out Ludo immediately. But first - a hand comes to her forehead, fingers clammy against her heated skin as she tries to find a more coherent answer for Juniper. "Nothing would stop her from creating more, Juni. But we cannot directly fight a Goddess either - we can only do what we can to make the job easier for the heralds and the demigods." For that is surely what will end up happening if war is to come. A battle she would do anything to keep her people from seeing. "I'm not suggesting we kill children -" her voice falters, because while it's not a lie as she cannot speak them, she is willing to let them die as an effect of The Voice perishing, "- but some of them would just as soon kill us for trying to end The Voice. I can't be sure that's not what Nate was trying to do. Why should I not be able to try and do the same against those who would try?" It's a dangerous question, even worded as delicately as she can manage as her hazel eyes tentatively seek out Juniper's. "I don't know if there's a way to return their souls to Mort's dominion without killing them anyway, or I would try that first. I would."
It is a comfort that Juniper's efforts have not been too successful, for all Nephele wants nothing but good things for the woman. Forgiveness will never be an option for Nephele. The notion of allying with the Ascended in any way makes her stomach churn. Nearly as badly as it does when she carefully words her experience in a way she knows Juniper will take at face value; Nephele had been known for nearly fifty years for her forthrightness long before they met, and it is a burden she must bear that she must now deceive those closest to her. It protects them from the truth of her betrayal and the pain it would cause, yes, but Nephele knows her good intentions do not absolve her of her sins. "Sunjata may be more trustworthy than his husband, I don't know. But we can't be too careful," is her subdued response. As grateful as she is that Juniper will be more cautious, her heart aches to deceive the younger Fae in any way.
For once, the knowledge is safe to be given; Nephele has met the bookseller before, when she'd had a more scientific curiosity for the Ascended. "I have met him once before, I'm not surprised he is open to the idea. I think you were right to deny Wessex however; tangling with the Order is too great a price." She suffuses her tone with praise, wanting to bolster Juniper however she can after having rocked the woman's worldview with what she'd said of Nate. It's a moment that doesn't last long, her own reaction to the notion of children far more violent.
Nephele rears back, catching herself halfway to standing as fury burns like magma in her veins, threatening to find any viable exit to burn the world with. "Children? That is horrific, Juniper!" Her voice shakes with the force of her emotion, terror and despair and fury and so much more she cannot parse. It is a Herculean task to force herself back down into her chair, though her fingers grip the table's edge all the same. "That's - it must be impossible. They tote her dedication to consent like a shield, telling anyone who will listen that she is blameless because she will not Ascend those who are incapable of making the choice. Have we been wrong all this time? Is she changing children now? Was it a ruse?" Her breaths come faster, the questions more musings given voice than inquiries directed to Juniper. With the lifespans of Fae, it feels acutely more monstrous to envision human children Ascending - how old could they be? Ten, fifteen? It makes her stomach heave with the urge to throw up, and Nephele can't imagine what Juniper must see on her face. She feels...shattered. And she knows that she must seek out Ludo immediately. But first - a hand comes to her forehead, fingers clammy against her heated skin as she tries to find a more coherent answer for Juniper. "Nothing would stop her from creating more, Juni. But we cannot directly fight a Goddess either - we can only do what we can to make the job easier for the heralds and the demigods." For that is surely what will end up happening if war is to come. A battle she would do anything to keep her people from seeing. "I'm not suggesting we kill children -" her voice falters, because while it's not a lie as she cannot speak them, she is willing to let them die as an effect of The Voice perishing, "- but some of them would just as soon kill us for trying to end The Voice. I can't be sure that's not what Nate was trying to do. Why should I not be able to try and do the same against those who would try?" It's a dangerous question, even worded as delicately as she can manage as her hazel eyes tentatively seek out Juniper's. "I don't know if there's a way to return their souls to Mort's dominion without killing them anyway, or I would try that first. I would."
Your goodness must have some edge to it -- else it is none
