closed.

[adlantisag]

CHARACTERS: Kida (yob) and Gilgamesh (babbylon)

DATE: jan 13th

WARNINGS: gilgamesh

SUMMARY: continued from here.

[ He's not far; they're in the same district, and while the accrued guard presence makes movement difficult, it's not impossible with a little patience and quick thinking. For some reason, she hadn't been expecting him to be at the boarding house to begin with; perhaps it's just his temperament making her assume, or maybe she's right and this is part of whatever consequence has been levied against him.

She knocks with little fanfare. He'll find her drawn; her cloak is wrapped around her, a fur over that. The more winter advances the more she feels the cold. Maybe it's just his impending presence. Kida might say she isn't nervous, but she's never been more acutely aware of walking into a lion's den. She almost regrets not bringing Ninat. ]

Comments

[babbylon]

[Once again, he's nearly compelled to ask, are you frightened?, and of what, of who. But it couldn't be of himself. Kida, he would guess, feels many things about him, but fear... no, it wasn't fear, at least not in the traditional sense. One who was fearful, like a mouse, would not have wielded a spear in his face. Would not have approached Pearl as she did. Would not have followed him inside and would not speak as she does now, almost bold in her own invitation.

Slipping his Epic away in yet another pocket of indeterminable space, Gilgamesh beckons to Shishi and folds his arms. He truly looks a figure of majesty, the King alongside his faithful pet, wearing that ever present invisible crown. He considers her for a time and then simply says:]

When you are ready.

[Which could mean many things, or nothing at all. The King's whims came and fled with the wind. But there's a hint of a smile in his tone even if it doesn't show in his face, a mild lilt in his voice that suggests that as she has softened towards him, he has come to see her in a slightly fonder light.]

When you are finished with one book, you may ask for another. When you have finished a few more, when I know you will not lose yourself within the depths of my Gate and when we have come to a better understanding, I may allow you to spend time here as you please.

[Gilgamesh has not lost his sense of ego, however. He lifts his head, brows arching.]

I grant this with the expectation of mutual respect. Do not mistake this for an act of compassion; I am simply sharing knowledge with a fellow ruler.

[adlantisag]

[ It would be a lie to say that there is no fear in her consideration of him, but it is only a small part of the whole. It is a fear born of respect, for his strength, his power, for the intimate knowledge he could crush her as if she were a fly. Respect for his story and his legacy, for what he has and what he has accomplished. All personal misgivings aside--she cannot take these from him.

It would be easy to feel insignificant next to him, but Kida doesn't feel anything like it. There's a familiar gravitas to Gilgamesh that she recognizes, whose weight she knows. His tone is condescending, but she bears it: a king is not so flexible a beast, and certainly not one of his caliber. She accepts his conditions as wisdom. He says he affords her no compassion; she declines to reveal the lie. That, too, is a form of respect. ]

Wil Urukag Makitenmok Gilgamesh-top...

[ Great King, she calls him. Great King Gilgamesh, of the City of Uruk. When she addresses him next, it's in Atlantean. Her chin lifts, mirroring him, and she gazes at him, blue on red, silver to gold. ]

Thou hast done me great honour. Thy generosity bolsters Atlantis.

[ And then she bows: one knee to the ground, the book placed reverentially on the floor before her, both hands coming up with palms pressed together flat, over her bowed head. A ritual gesture, older than him by millennia, intended for a lord in his demesne. Making this not just an exchange between individuals but an exchange between rulers, and the knowledge that their tacit understanding is mutual. ]

[babbylon]

[Great King, she calls him, and his heart swells with pride. It nearly overcomes that stoic facade. He nearly wavers, he nearly breaks. But somehow he holds it together, even through the earnestness, through the bow he does not expect. He stands firm and tall and unyielding and does not bend himself.

At least until the moment he does, on a whim, drawing himself down, eyes staring intensely into hers as if to hold them hostage. The words that follow sound more like a prayer than anything, like an earnest wish. Like the real cost at play here, what he truly seeks to gain from this benevolent exchange.]

I will show you both. You will see. I am not a mistake. I am not cause for regret. Indeed, am I not great? Who else could say they are like Gilgamesh?

[It's a little like a child trying to convince a parent they were all grown up, that they could handle more responsibility. Maybe he even looks the slightest bit pouty for it. He's got something to prove, not just to Pearl or to Kida but to himself. To a better chance at a better Master, and maybe even a taste of freedom. Of contentment.

Gilgamesh would never allow himself to remain prostrate for long, so he rises and once again shakes past the moment of weakness. Kida may start to recognize them.]

Well, then. That's that. We should return.

[adlantisag]

[ She doesn't expect him to bow, because it isn't his place, it isn't required of him. So when he does her head jerks up, and he's there--so close--

His voice is strained. She isn't sure how to interpret what he tells her, only that it fills her with a kind of dim hope. Perhaps he will do as he says. He has her respect, but she'll believe him when she sees the fruits of his labour. He has already taken the first step.

He rises, and she rises with him, following the trail of his warmth. She says nothing; no words of encouragement, no sympathy. He has no need of it.

The walk back seems less involved than the walk to, perhaps because she recognizes some of the landmarks they passed on the way. By the time they have emerged from the portal into his room back at the inn, she feels a chill take over her, despite her renewed purpose. It was no much warmer in the Gate.

She turns to face him, golden and resplendent. What is there to say? He has received her formal thanks. Instead she offers him what heretofore she had kept from him: a smile. ]

I look forward to our next meeting, Gilgamesh.

[ Neither Sumerian nor Atlantean, not spoken as the Queen of Atlantis but merely as herself, as Kidagakash, speaking the truth. She takes her leave shortly thereafter, plucking her coat from the rack and disappearing into Chantes' eternal night. ]