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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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. ]

The fact remains. I...am in your debt.

[and it wasn't anything small either. even though it was his duty to be loyal, it didn't change that she was grateful for it. one second slower in his actions...no, she had to stop dwelling on it.]

Didn't I swear to serve you?

[ Heine offers that almost casually, even though it's strange for him to say it. He never thought he would give himself in this way, but he has, and it's... not bad.

He's watching Grell closely as he talks, too, despite the more casual cast to his stance now. Even though she hadn't been the one to draw the blade, he wouldn't be surprised if her hands had been shaking. Now, it seems like she's recovered for the most part, but it's hard to tell. ]

She was going to kill you. [ v reassuring heine, thank you. ] Do you carry a weapon?

[there's still a good deal of stress in her posture, tension keeping her rigid. but her hands are steady - she'd forced herself to calm down some when she was alone. her note had been in clear writing, and when she picks up a glass of water that's there, she's able to sip from it without problem.]

Usually I do, when I go outside the palace.

[unspoken is the slight admonishment to herself to not keep one on her within. but then again, though she knew of attempts, they had all been stopped long before they got to her. overconfidence had gotten to her in their stead.]

You should keep something on you at all times.

[ It's just advice coming from Heine. He won't press her to do it; as he watches her drink water he figures she's at least had some experience. ]

...or have better guards.

[ He knows he could probably deal with the last guard who'd been at her door on his own, and that does concern him. ]

The former I can do, the latter...it's hard to find men that can be loyal enough. Technique can be taught, loyalty has to be planted and won.

[she sighs, and then, almost as an afterthought:]

An enchanter once offered to devise an oath to take that would assure loyalty on pain of the violent death of the person they loved most. I refused and told them that should they ever suggest such a thing again I would ban them from court. I will not hold a man's heart hostage to ensure he protects my life, no matter how easy it would be.

[after all, hostage situations were for dealing with enemies. and it would imply that she could trust no one she had not touched with magic - such a thing could only mean ruin.]

...Forgive me, General, I don't mean to ramble on.

[ Heine does listen, throughout, even if he doesn't fully understand. Easier seems to be better, but if she doesn't want to—then he'll just accept it. He tilts his head slightly when she cuts herself off. ]

It's fine. [ He shifts forward slightly, only enough to speak directly. ] Look. Your Majesty. If it means anything—[ which he assumes it doesn't. ] —I swore my loyalty to you. And I meant it. I still mean it.

It does mean something, Heine. It means a great deal that I can feel safe if you are in the room.

[she admits this quietly, setting down her water.]

May I ask of you a favour? It's something I can only ask of someone loyal to myself.

[ Somehow Heine trusts her too, even beyond what the swearing of the General's oath called for. When she asks for a "favor", he simply nods. ]

Choose guards for me. Men or women, it doesn't matter - but I want you to choose several who can be kept close and who are dependable.

[people who will be there to protect me when you cannot, she might as well have said.]

Fine.

[ He knows he can't stay by her side all the time. He doesn't even want to. ]

I'll tell you when I have a list together.

[ This is where reassurance is supposed to come—that they'll be the best, the most loyal—but he can't think of anything that doesn't sound somehow fake. ]

[even without that, a little of the tension drains from her, and the smile she gives him seems about fifty percent real.]

Thank you.

[that would be one concern taken care of, at least, while others flew and she sorted out where that woman had come from in the first place.]

You do know if you need anything you only have to ask, and I will see it done.

I don't need anything.

[ He can't think he'll ever need something from someone else, that is. ]

But thanks. [ I guess. ]

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