[ Her hands loosen first at the back, then move to the subtle divets of his waist, her cheeks flushed. Too many times, he has tried to fluster her enough to make her forget what she's asked, but this time it will not avail him.
Still, she remains close, wanting the touch. ]
By your hand, [ she insists, proud of him for all that he is conflicted. By the blade of Gram, the sword that demanded the truth. How queer that a god of lies should be the one to slay with a sword of truth. He has saved the multiverse, and countless lives as well, yet there is a pall upon his face. ]
Say it, [ she presses, not unkindly. He does not know what to do with that. ] His legacy dies, but ...?
no subject
Still, she remains close, wanting the touch. ]
By your hand, [ she insists, proud of him for all that he is conflicted. By the blade of Gram, the sword that demanded the truth. How queer that a god of lies should be the one to slay with a sword of truth. He has saved the multiverse, and countless lives as well, yet there is a pall upon his face. ]
Say it, [ she presses, not unkindly. He does not know what to do with that. ] His legacy dies, but ...?