Thread: The Fall of An Era [ Father x Fruit ]

He stepped back from her touch. He knew it was a dangerous thing to do with the offer so clearly being given, with the way she seemed to wish to take control of the situation through her heady exotic presence and the feel of her words. They had a lilt to them, an intoxicating accent that when formed on the human tongue lent an air of mystique that he had never experienced before, but it was more than that. Her physical presence was powerful, strong and self assured, and that was an enticing duality that he had not found in an elven woman. He had never been touched by one, had only seen them from afar, never having wished to purchase their favors or pursue their ardor. Here now though he was in the presence of a true exemplar of Elvenkind and he felt that he could see himself standing beside her willingly. As she had touched him he had imagined that moment, of perhaps not only standing behind her but standing beside her, and he realized quickly what a poisonous fantasy it was to indulge. He could not allow himself to for a moment believe that it could occur. So he took that dangerous road and he went down to one knee before her, lowering his head this time in supplication, his voice proud as he spoke plain words of truth to her. Nay, Lady, you have the wrong of it. It is not poverty I fear, it is dishonor. It is sullying myself and my name in cowardice and defeat and in doing so selling my people into bondage or worse. All citizens have a equal rights under the law, this is a tenet of the Valerii. Even if most of humankind do not follow it, that does not make it any less important that I do so. It is my solemn vow that I gave. He raised his head to gaze up at her, his eyes moving up her lithe form and he could not help but appreciate the angle at which he was given to admire her. Perhaps in that moment she could see the stories that she had heard of in his face, the brief flicker of lust that showed he was as human as any other, yet he contained it in a way that other men would have given in. What kind of man was it that would sacrifice themselves like this, throw themselves on their sword before her? He doubted even her own generals would have done so willingly. Yet it seemed he was. He knew the moment was a risky one, he was playing with fire, but he had to take these risks to find some measure of safety for his people. His hand came out to bridge the small distance and touch her leg, caressing just slightly before taking hold and his eyes never left her face as he continued his words. There need be no more death, surely there is a way we can come to terms. I cannot join you, I will not be bought, but my honor can yield. Not to a conqueror, but a savior. It was a risky gamble, but the kind of gamble that could pay off, and much like the stories of old it had it's potential. For in the human stories the elves often came as mystics, as mages, as sorcerer and wise men. It was ingrained in their literature to view the elves as otherworldly, as transcendent, and that undercurrent could serve them well if she chose a differing tact. He did not need to speak to his defensive strategies, to his attempt to establish a last stand against the Elvish Armies. He was speaking of a longer game to play if she was willing to play it with him.