drear | oh like gold, let it lead me astray.

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oh like gold, let it lead me astray.

[ It's mid-morning, the sun beating down strongly on the white stone of the palace. With the ceremony scheduled for afternoon, preparations are already well underway. In a chamber adjacent to the audience room, Heine is still getting dressed. His underthings are on, shirt and breeches as well, but a glance at all the other layers laid out make him want to break the wall down and leave.

He never should have agreed to this. Honestly, it was a mistake, and Heine can only stare longingly at his sword, which is placed on a side table, sheathed. He'd really rather go out into the training yard and beat something (or someone) up. Instead, he's here. Heine sighs loudly and slouches, despite the tailor poking him in the back and telling him to stand up straight as the door of the room swings open. A guard announces, ] The queen.

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[ Heine listens, unmoving, until she's done. It doesn't quite answer his question, but it gives him enough information to realize that maybe Queen Grell actually understands the importance of having an actual soldier fighting a war. ]

Kind of. [ He should probably work on his court manners, but oh well.] Is that all you want from me?

It's all I need from you, but you don't need to feel dismissed from my presence so swiftly. It's probably a relief to be able to sit with your injury, after all.

[which is her way of saying that he can relax, if he feels like it, because she honestly doesn't care if his court manners are atrocious.]

[ He thought he'd managed to hide that better, but apparently not. Heine looks over the tea spread. His shoulders rise as he inhales, then fall again. ]

Fine. [ He's not going to eat those tiny berries, though, because he gets the feeling he's just going to make a mess and an embarrassment of himself.

Tea, though, he sips at, in awkward silence. The china screeches on the saucer when he sets it back down. There are things Heine still doesn't understand, but he doesn't know how to bring it up or if he even should. ]

[awkward it may be for him, but she holds no such feelings, taking her tea and fruit without being self conscious. sure, so long of having grace forced into her actions means there's nothing too casual about how she acts, yet there isn't hesitation or stiffness.

it's quiet, but not a quiet she can't endure. she'll let him take his time and decide what he wants to do next.]

[ Heine drinks some more tea, taps his fingers on the table, and generally fidgets until he can't take it anymore and gives up on staying quiet. ]

You know how I got recruited. [ He barely pauses to wait for an answer. ] Then why do you still say you trust me?

Because as far as I can guess, you have no reason to lie to me, and I don't have a reason to lie to you.

[she studies the pattern on the teacup as though she hasn't seen it a thousand times before.]

You didn't come into the army because someone gave you a commission. You didn't come because you were forced by desperation or threats. You and your outfit came because you were paid to know what you were doing. And post that, you could have refused the long term arrangement and left at any time, no questions would be asked. Certainly there would be someone who could pay better for those skills that I've heard rumour of.

So tell me, why did you accept the offer of becoming my general? Even though I told you that you could have refused even on the day of?

[ Heine stops drumming his fingers on the table as she speaks, looking up through his hair at her. Somehow, she sounds like she's telling the truth. As little as he wants to trust people, she hasn't done him wrong so far. ]

I didn't have anything better to do.

[ It's a flippant answer while he tries to condense his thoughts. Heine doesn't have a good answer, and usually doesn't, for anything he does when it comes to personal decisions. ]

If you really trust me, I'll—do my utmost [ his mouth twists in half a wry smile at the word ] to uphold your faith.

And you've probably heard I'll do whatever it takes. [ A pause, as he sits up straight and proper for once, eyes on her. ]

[she makes no attempt to conceal the way his answer brings a smile to her lips. didn't have anything better to do? what a novelty. it's the terrible quality of the answer that makes her trust it - no one was intentionally that bad.

but her gaze meets his with the last sentence, and for her amusement, there's some seriousness as well.]

Will you really though? If you discovered your second-in-command was a spy for the enemy, what would you do? Keep in mind he has a wife and children. Alternately, you discover evidence of a plot that my closest ladies-in-waiting are all conspiring to orchestrate my death, and within a week they will move. Tell me what you would do, and do not give me the answer you think I want to hear. Just what you would.

Kill them.

[ There's no hesitation in that answer, delivered almost too casually. But it's genuine, because Heine sees nothing wrong with it. ]

Maybe ask while they're bleeding out if they had any other friends they were plotting with.

All of them?

[it's a ruthless answer, and yet, it is simple, no fussing about the consequences other than they would come.]

Yes. [ Why not? It'd end things, wouldn't it? ]

And you ask me why I trust you.

[that was evidence enough as to why she could.]

How's that a reason to trust somebody?

[ Heine relaxes, though, and sips more tea, because confessing that he really would execute people without much hesitation makes him more comfortable... apparently. ]

Because it says to me that you mean you'll do what must be done.

[the details of reasons why and who would be outraged could be sorted out when there was not a threat looming overhead. it's a blessedly direct way of thinking.]

Right.

[ Heine gets that, sort of. But it's still weird. You're weird, Grell.

Some weeks later, after Heine has settled into being the royal general, his ankle has healed up and he's able to stand to the side of throne during audiences without trouble. Even if it's for hours and hours. Fuck, how the hell do people have so many problems?

So he might be zoning out a little by the time the sun is going down. The next woman to come in for an audience doesn't catch his attention at first. But as she kneels to give her greeting, Heine looks up and sees the line of her shoulders tense. It could just be nerves, but the flick of discomfort at the back of his mind says differently.

He steps forward, not even looking at Grell because his eyes are focused on the woman's arm when it pulls back and the muscles of her shoulder tense as she closes her hand around something.

The strike he delivers nearly severs her arm, at least cutting her ligaments with the force of it. A hydraulicized blade falls from her limp hand as blood stains the tiles. ]

[audiences are tedious, but necessary to show people that their Queen would listen to their complaints. she cannot show a sign of discomfort or boredom no matter how long it goes on, but there are only a few left.

the woman's tension is brushed off by her as nervousness - she's seen it a thousand times, and she is ready to soothe her with calm words, reassurances like she has so many others. the sound of Heine stepping forward is disregarded (perhaps he wishes to retire, he's not required to stay the whole duration) and then-

someone screams when it happens, but not her. Grell's eyes are wide with shock, both at what might have just happened and the swiftness of Heine's action. blood pools on the floor and the second between seeing it all and things happening seems impossibly long.

all colour's gone from her face, and people are moving - the rest of the day will be cancelled, the guards will be drawn by the scream, and Grell takes one step, then another back, closer to Heine than her would-be assassin.]

...don't take her away. But seize her.

[there's no emotion in her voice, and it is not loud, but even in the chaos, it will be obeyed.]

[ Heine is still holding his sword, blood dripping from it. Rather than shake it off, he keeps it up at the ready even though the woman is now screaming in pain and curled up on the floor. He kicks the knife away as Grell backs up toward him.

She'll bleed out eventually, but for a while she should be able to hold out. Heine grabs the attacker by the hair and pulls her head back, blade to her throat.

He looks to Grell. ]

Your Majesty.

[ Now he's thinking maybe he shouldn't have been so fast to nearly kill this person, but it was essentially reflex. ]

[probably it's the shock, but things seem so weirdly quiet that aren't Heine or that woman. her eyes fix not on the woman's face, but the blade, and for as pale as she is, her voice is steady.]

Know this. You will be investigated, and so will everyone you are near to. The innocent will be spared. Those with a hand in today's events will be dealt with as high conspiracy and treason calls for. You have doomed them, as you have doomed yourself.

General Rammsteiner, execute her.

[ His hands don't shake, and his hold is firm. It's rare that killing makes his emotions any different than usual, and now, seeing his queen shaken but still standing, he feels... stable.

There's no real need to speak, so he doesn't. Heine pulls the woman's head back a little further and cuts across. Blood spills; the last noises she makes are a little gasp, and then a wet gurgle. Heine lets her body slump, though it's still twitching, and finally swings his blade to snap the blood off of it. ]

[she watches the woman fall, and when she meets the floor, Grell breaks her gaze, turning to steadily walk out of the chamber. the body will be seen to, she's no doubt, and she doesn't want to deal with everyone's fussing. her net of those she trusts to gain information will know what she wants them to do, and begin their dispatches and work soon.

within an hour, a request comes for Heine to come to the queen's rooms - with the caveat that he can refuse to come if he would rather not. the servant delivering it seems to trip over the words, but then again, news of what happened has been flying everywhere, and the details are beginning to get murky in so many retellings.

if he agrees, he'll be led to where she is, in one of her private rooms. out of her formal clothes, she's writing another note - at least she looks less shaken than she did earlier, no less serious.]

[ Heine doesn't leave the room, which is soon swarmed with guards ushering people out and coming by him. He points out the woman's knife, explains briefly, and asks for a cloth for his blade. At the first possible moment he shuffles out of the room and goes to his quarters.

Killing not on the battlefield is strange, even for him. He washes his face and changes into looser clothes. It didn't seem like Grell was upset, but who knows.

After receiving the call, he doesn't want to delay things to change, so he goes immediately—still armed with the same sword. He nods at the guard at the door, who knocks and announces his entrance.

He doesn't see the point in announcing himself after that, and simply stands just inside the doorway with his shoulders squared. ]

[she doesn't look up when he comes in, but gestures that he can take a seat, finishing off the note and handing it to the same servant that brought Heine there. when they depart, she puts the pen aside and falls back in her seat, finally looking at him.]

...How did you know?

[ There are a lot of answers Heine could make up, but he settles for the simplest and truest. ]

I was watching her. [ A slight shrug. ] She wasn't professional. Too nervous.

So that was tension from her action to come and not nervousness from speaking to authority...I should have known.

[the admonishment's delivered to herself - that had been too close. two more long strides and that blade would have been buried in her.

sighing, she pushes up her glasses.]

You saved my life, Heine.

[ Maybe she should've been able to tell, but Heine doesn't push the point. ]

I wasn't going to let it happen in front of me.

[ He crosses his arms loosely, dropping his stiffness after a moment. ]

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