ᴍɪᴛʜɪᴀɴ (
burping) wrote in
asgardeventide2012-12-02 12:38 am
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[ Much like Arthur before her, Mithian sits, holding her crown in her hands, fingers tracing along the textured gold. She looks as though she's trying to make some sort of decision. After a moment, she lets out a sigh before turning to the camera.]
There are many of us from different worlds and here, we are one and the same, titles and names hardly matter in a place such as this, in a battle like this one. I ask, what is the point of holding on a symbol of something that holds little value here? Priorities have changed and what was important is no longer as important as survival, as helping others to survive, and win this war so that we may all go home.
[ She pauses for another moment before she sets the crown aside, fingers lingering for a moment.] I wonder if anyone could tell me where the nearest market is. [ Because she's going to sell that crown. Yep.]
There are many of us from different worlds and here, we are one and the same, titles and names hardly matter in a place such as this, in a battle like this one. I ask, what is the point of holding on a symbol of something that holds little value here? Priorities have changed and what was important is no longer as important as survival, as helping others to survive, and win this war so that we may all go home.
[ She pauses for another moment before she sets the crown aside, fingers lingering for a moment.] I wonder if anyone could tell me where the nearest market is. [ Because she's going to sell that crown. Yep.]
[ action ]
You should never apologise for such a thing, Mithian. Most anyone would be distressed upon being swept away to some mystical realm. You carried yourself with the courtesy and grace of one searching for their bearings, and in this, you bear no fault.
[ He nods his head forward just slightly, to make certain she can see his eyes and the sincerity there. No blood, no trespass. ]
Rather, it is that for which I feel I must apologise. Through no fault of our, certainly, but things have become so heavily convoluted -
[ His eyes flicker to her crown and back before he sighs and turns away, to the rest of the porch that stretches before them and the trees beyond that. Distantly, he wonders if it'll snow. ]
This is what troubles me. It is far too easy to find myself lost.
[ action ]
Their gazes meet and she looks to him as he apologizes, for what, she is not sure, the confusion must be clear on her face.]
You are are lost, your highness? In what? [ She says it as a friend, as a friend who would offer to help in any way. ]