[He speaks it as if it is the truth, that he is the exact same as those men she despises... But just because he makes her look him in the eyes when he says it does not mean that she can believe it. It was not as if she thought he was good. That she was under some foolish delusion that he was honorable or righteous or heroic or any word at all that might describe the opposite of men like John Gaius, Silco, Voryn Dagoth, or Sebastian Michaelis. He has proven time and again to her that he is not, even as he confused her by showing her parts of himself that could be warm, inspiring, or tender. But... He says it himself, and he cannot understand?
He believes in her. Which means he has to be different, even just a little, because those men... They would never do that. A scheming ghoul, a moral-less man of science, a proud racist, a soul-eating demon... She is sure. She didn't want their faith, didn't need it, but she is sure despite that even if she did... They would not believe as Set did. And somewhere along the way, that belief had become a pillar that she relied on, something she believed in. So how...
He says he couldn't ask her to do certain things. That he would have left such a decision to her... But what did it matter, now, when he hadn't... and saying he wouldn't have was no promise or guarantee at all that he would in the future? This isn't the first time she has tried demanding he appraise her of his plans beforehand so that she will not be caught off guard or feel betrayed. Angry demands from a fellow Meridian, an ally, had not worked. Being "friends" with him had not worked. All that had succeeded in doing is making the pain visible in her stormy gray eye personal, made the shame of not knowing his fate and debasing herself asking others if they knew anything even greater.]
If you truly believe in me-
[So what did a god understand? What would a god listen to? What would have been just another angry demand that he trust her (that he consider her feelings) dies in her throat as the feeling of futility creeps in. Slowly, the howl of the ice and snow around them begins to quiet, and the storm begins to die... but not because her anger is mollified or because she is calm. Instead... something cracks and splinters on the mountain peak as Hayame pulls her face from Set's hands... and her legs fold until she is on her belly before him, her gaze respectfully cast down. The shame of it burns, because she had thought she would not have to resort to such things anymore, both because she had thought their bond had gone beyond such things and because she was not a slave in a stable anymore, but... what did she know? Maybe no more than a war god who simply could not be like a mortal. Maybe this-]
Great war god Set...
[When her spine curls and her more human-looking half bows low between her forelegs, her brow nearly touching her knuckles where her hands demurely fold upon the ground... her ebony mane shifts and exposes the crimson streak he had once marked her with.]
Your loyal warrior entreats you. A single word...
[Her lips twist, her fingers curl and fist uselessly in the mix of snow and sand. Surely... surely this he could understand, surely this he was accustomed to. (Was this friendship? Was this adapting?)]
Please grant me just a single word of warning before you execute your plans, so that I might not disgrace myself in your absence or unwittingly betray your intent.
["So that I might not hurt like this anymore." "So I might not be forced to turn from you, unable to forgive any longer." Even with those things left unsaid, heavy on her tongue and humming in the air instead... She wasn't sure if the crack in the mountain had been stone or her sacrificed pride.]
no subject
He believes in her. Which means he has to be different, even just a little, because those men... They would never do that. A scheming ghoul, a moral-less man of science, a proud racist, a soul-eating demon... She is sure. She didn't want their faith, didn't need it, but she is sure despite that even if she did... They would not believe as Set did. And somewhere along the way, that belief had become a pillar that she relied on, something she believed in. So how...
He says he couldn't ask her to do certain things. That he would have left such a decision to her... But what did it matter, now, when he hadn't... and saying he wouldn't have was no promise or guarantee at all that he would in the future? This isn't the first time she has tried demanding he appraise her of his plans beforehand so that she will not be caught off guard or feel betrayed. Angry demands from a fellow Meridian, an ally, had not worked. Being "friends" with him had not worked. All that had succeeded in doing is making the pain visible in her stormy gray eye personal, made the shame of not knowing his fate and debasing herself asking others if they knew anything even greater.]
If you truly believe in me-
[So what did a god understand? What would a god listen to? What would have been just another angry demand that he trust her (that he consider her feelings) dies in her throat as the feeling of futility creeps in. Slowly, the howl of the ice and snow around them begins to quiet, and the storm begins to die... but not because her anger is mollified or because she is calm. Instead... something cracks and splinters on the mountain peak as Hayame pulls her face from Set's hands... and her legs fold until she is on her belly before him, her gaze respectfully cast down. The shame of it burns, because she had thought she would not have to resort to such things anymore, both because she had thought their bond had gone beyond such things and because she was not a slave in a stable anymore, but... what did she know? Maybe no more than a war god who simply could not be like a mortal. Maybe this-]
Great war god Set...
[When her spine curls and her more human-looking half bows low between her forelegs, her brow nearly touching her knuckles where her hands demurely fold upon the ground... her ebony mane shifts and exposes the crimson streak he had once marked her with.]
Your loyal warrior entreats you. A single word...
[Her lips twist, her fingers curl and fist uselessly in the mix of snow and sand. Surely... surely this he could understand, surely this he was accustomed to. (Was this friendship? Was this adapting?)]
Please grant me just a single word of warning before you execute your plans, so that I might not disgrace myself in your absence or unwittingly betray your intent.
["So that I might not hurt like this anymore." "So I might not be forced to turn from you, unable to forgive any longer." Even with those things left unsaid, heavy on her tongue and humming in the air instead... She wasn't sure if the crack in the mountain had been stone or her sacrificed pride.]