Quiet was the way of Astoreth, at her best. Undetected when she moved -- though she hid nothing from Mesaana. words like violence break the silence Nothing.
And so she leaned in the doorway, only lightly knocking, watching her. come crashing in into my little world She would leave or remain as requested -- not one to step too far forward.
Mesaana closed her eyes slightly as she heard the knocking. There was analysis to be done. Hopefully, that little wretch had something to report this time. A slight snap to her crystalline voice.
Astoreth shivered, just slightly -- she did hate it so when Mesaana sounded angry, she had tried so hard to be just what was wanted -- but obeyed, vanishing again and returning a moment later with a tea tray.
Mesaana did not look at Astoreth as she took her tea from the tray. Sipping the hot liquid calmly, the Chosen glanced at the papers in her lap. A slight twitch on her face.
"Tell me, Astoreth, what is the state of the Great Lord's Champion?"
Fingernails tapped irritably on the arm of the chair. A twisted look on her face. Icy blue eyes glanced to the papers once more before turning to Astoreth.
"It has been quiet, Astoreth. I believe that something is going on. What hand is Ishamael playing?"
Her eyes narrow. The clicking of her nails increases in tempo and volume. Her speech quicker, her delicate chime-like voice higher pitched.
"I am well aware that Ishamael keeps his own counsel, but I need information out of him."
Her left hand slowly clenched into a fist.
"Surely, he does not use as powerful as an asset as you just for a bedmate. Ishamael is not Graendal or Rahvin. Besides, if he were just interested in that he would have chosen someone far more beautiful..."
Tightening her lips at her own waste of breath-it was horribly inefficient-her voice snapped, like ice breaking a tree branch.
"We have been over all of this before! Now, surely..."
Mesaana tilted her head. A touch of curiosity in her voice. What was this child up to? Did Ishamael put her to this? Is she using his resources or her own?
"Well, Astoreth, that is not a great deal of a surprise..."
Mesaana leaned back in her chair. Folding her hands in her lap, she gave the matter some thought. How audacious of her... But if she managed to succeed... A slow smile blossoms on her face.
"To kill one of the Chosen is a daring matter, Astoreth."
A pause.
"Malacoda is powerful, you will need to seize on an advantage, and remember that while she is mad, she is not stupid. A number have died for thinking that."
Mesaana slowly rose to her feet. The girl was ambitious, but that could be an asset properly applied. Straightening her dress, Mesaana gracefully walked over to Astoreth to stand near her.
"You may."
A pause as she leveled her icy blue eyes against Astoreth.
A delicate windchime laugh from Mesaana. This little girl was going to do her a great favor. A very great favor.
"Excellent..."
With a touch of a smile, Mesaana leaned in and kissed her. A soft, lingering kiss. Sometimes, the affection of others was a powerful tool. She had seen how Rahvin worked, though with him it was a weakness.
words like violence break the silence
Nothing.
And so she leaned in the doorway, only lightly knocking, watching her.
come crashing in into my little world
She would leave or remain as requested -- not one to step too far forward.
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"Come in, Child."
A pause as she heard the tea kettle's whistle.
"And fetch my tea."
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"My lady."
There would be a time to be blunt.
I plan to kill.
It wasn't quite yet.
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"Tell me, Astoreth, what is the state of the Great Lord's Champion?"
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You've a script, she reminded herself. You know what you're doing, don't foul it up now --
painful to me pierce right through me
She'd keep to it.
"Well enough as far as I am aware, at any rate. He does not trust me, he rarely tells me things. I am a presence, my lady, that is all."
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"It has been quiet, Astoreth. I believe that something is going on. What hand is Ishamael playing?"
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The unfortunate truth, she realized, was that on a point she really didn't have an answer.
"I do not know, my lady. I am not his chosen advisor. I bring him drinks and warm his bed -- I am not told."
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"I am well aware that Ishamael keeps his own counsel, but I need information out of him."
Her left hand slowly clenched into a fist.
"Surely, he does not use as powerful as an asset as you just for a bedmate. Ishamael is not Graendal or Rahvin. Besides, if he were just interested in that he would have chosen someone far more beautiful..."
Tightening her lips at her own waste of breath-it was horribly inefficient-her voice snapped, like ice breaking a tree branch.
"We have been over all of this before! Now, surely..."
Her eyes narrowed further with the veiled threat.
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Until it bled.
And then, quietly,
"I do not know precisely what he is doing, but I do know what I am doing."
Beat.
"I plan to kill."
One would think that would have been obvious.
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"Well, Astoreth, that is not a great deal of a surprise..."
A pause.
"Who are you planning to kill?"
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Stop with the poetry, an inner voice told her.
"She is called Malacoda. She is a fool," Astoreth said, doing her best to sound utterly confident.
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"To kill one of the Chosen is a daring matter, Astoreth."
A pause.
"Malacoda is powerful, you will need to seize on an advantage, and remember that while she is mad, she is not stupid. A number have died for thinking that."
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Let's see, now.
Who may Astoreth have been thinking of? Why, not herself, of course --
"Ishamael's resources are at my hands, considering my free access. I have aid, if needed - and may I, perhaps, count on your advice, my lady?"
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"You may."
A pause as she leveled her icy blue eyes against Astoreth.
"Does Ishamael know of this plan of yours?"
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Only one of them was right.
And only one of them was given.
"Not a word."
She smiled.
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"Excellent..."
With a touch of a smile, Mesaana leaned in and kissed her. A soft, lingering kiss. Sometimes, the affection of others was a powerful tool. She had seen how Rahvin worked, though with him it was a weakness.
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