[ Honestly, it wouldn't be wrong to describe the place as "dreadfully boring". The land itself was clearly meant to be lived in by other creatures, but has instead fallen into disarray and neglect... save for the castle, in which the bare minimum amount of upkeep is attended to by the Mors King's mindless "servants" that wordlessly roam the halls... and even then, most of them only serve the purpose of security via patrol.
Still, for a dragon, this didn't really bother him. In the first place, most dragons simply stay in their lairs all the time anyway, and the Mors King is unusual in that regard, seeing as how a castle is fairly unsubtle for a lair.
...but what can he say? He's attached to this place.
Still, the situation is admittedly a little frustrating... the way she barely even flinches at his touch now. Completely pliant and without a single protest...
...well, that is exactly what he demanded of her, he supposes. He really shouldn't be annoyed that she's doing as she's told, but it's becoming clearer to him that this Saintess—false though she may be—will not break.
Yet still unwilling to push past the boundary that he himself has set, he's found himself stuck. Hell, if anything, hasn't he accomodated her more than he's tormented her? The stores of the castle are, for the first time in countless years, stocked with food so that she doesn't starve. She has clothes to wear (albeit only to his personal preference), she can bathe regularly... and though she must sit through being groped all over every night, she's then able to sleep in a warm bed.
...what the hell, has he gone soft!? Ugh... he's in the middle of contemplating how to amp up her torment when she appears before him...
...and quite frankly? Asks something ridiculous of him. ]
...What? Not satisfied with just giving me your body?
[ His words are clearly meant as yet another jab, an insult aimed at her lack of purity despite being a Saintess... but he sounds so bored as he says it that it can only fall flat. Even his tail, normally hidden, droops lazily off to the side. ]
That isn't the same. [ You'd expect her words to sound defensive but instead, they're unruffled. Matter of fact, even. ] That only lasts a few minutes at the end of the day. There's no point in me taking up space and eating your food if I'm not doing enough to earn it.
[ Maybe she would feel differently if he really had gone through with it and actually used her - at the very least, she would have felt much less inclined to make herself useful. But this strange game they've been playing where he toys with her and she yields to him has left her feeling restless. She's bored - something she hasn't had the luxury of feeling in a long time but the novelty has quickly started to wear off. ]
There has to be something that needs doing that your servants can't handle. I might be a fake Saintess, but my magic is still the real thing. So I might as well put it to some use.
[ She's annoyingly... earnest about this whole thing. ]
[ It's throwing him off more than it should, he realizes. She does realize she's still a captive here, right? Sure, she's free to roam the castle (barring certain sections where Mors Guards will promptly bar her from exploring any further), but it's not like she can leave. A single escape attempt and not only would he kill her, but he'd attack Fragaria in retaliation.
So can he really be blamed for being a little awed at the fake Saintess before him now asking for work to do? Most prisoners would rejoice at not having to do any physical... labor...
...is that what he's doing wrong!? No, what he's doing wrong is not going through with his promises and using her properly... but not putting her to work isn't helping either. ]
...Hmph. Unfortunately for you, my land has no need of a Saintess' magic, fake or otherwise.
[ A bit cruel to the dead and desolate land they're on, but it's not as if he intends to have any subjects again. There's no point in healing this place, and in the first place, it's too damaged to be healed by one measly saint. ]
...but I suppose you're right. These guys are about as dull as dull can get.
[ At the end of the day, even if he assigns them other roles and routines, the Mors are only really good for killing. Anything unrelated to that and the results are either subpar or the bare minimum. ]
Mm. I've noticed they're not very smart. [ ... she says it in that same unruffled, matter-of-fact voice that somehow makes it worse than if she'd been intentionally trying to insult him. ] They react to things and follow orders but that's about it.
[ Of course, the same could very much be said of her as well, but that's a thread of self-loathing to pick at another time. Anyway! ]
Still, that's all the more reason I should be useful to you. Even if you don't have any need of my magic, surely you won't object to me keeping busy, will you?
[ Not that she's entirely sure what she could keep busy with. She can't cook, she's not strong enough to help with the maintenance of the castle, the grounds outside are barred but even if they weren't, it's not as if she knows anything about gardening. Really, there's no particular skill in any trade that would be helpful for a dragon. But she can't stand the thought of sitting around doing nothing for much longer. ]
[ His eyebrow twitches, but he ultimately decides to let it slide, if only because he'd already admitted as such. ]
...well, if the Saintess wants to do more than warm my bed, then I suppose I've no reason to refuse. The Saintess, a maidservant... not bad.
[ He brings his clawed hand to his chin, thinking for a moment. He could always just tell her to clean and maintain the entire castle and relish in the impossibility of such a task for only one person, but he'd prefer she actually do something substantial. ]
Fine, you can clean, can't you? The Mors can handle most of the castle, but there are certain chambers I'd like better maintained, mine included. Consider yourself lucky I'm not assigning you to the entire castle.
[ There's something a little... there's no other word for it, pathetic about just how pleased she looks to have been given an order. It's not a change in her expression or anything quite that easy to call out but there's a shifting in the way she holds herself, a brightening of her eyes and a slight straightening of her spine that makes it obvious. Maybe it's just relief to have been given something to do when she's so restless, but... ]
I will. I'll do my best to meet your expectations. [ She dips her head in a polite nod. ] Thank you for letting me be of service.
[ And she actually means it, which is the worst part of all. ]
Do you want them to be maintained in any particular way? I've always been told dragons are very particular about their dens.
[ ...not that she's ever heard of a dragon who lives in a castle, but still. ]
[ He feels another twinge of annoyance. How is it that she's so pleased to be given something to do? Ugh...
He drowns it out with a laugh at her query. ]
Hah! Particular, huh... you humans have learned to understate it, then? Step into a dragon's den for any reason and you've effectively forfeited your life. Us dragons are a little more than just particular about our dens.
[ So he says, not addressing the fact that he himself is fairly strange for a dragon, even if his strength is unmatched. ]
Just clean it to your human standards. Dust, clutter, the bed... ah.
[ His expression suddenly turns... serious, and yet reminiscent of one of their earlier mornings, when it hit them that Ai had no other clothes to wear. ]
...you are not to touch my wardrobes. Do whatever you want with yours, but stay the hell away from mine.
[ Animal alarm twinges in her chest - she hasn't gotten particularly good at reading his face yet, especially when he makes such a show of being miserable about everything and anything but she has at least gotten used to the look of almost relaxed scorn that he tends to wear more often than not. It's almost performatively unpleasant but it's consistent enough, at least, that it never comes as a surprise. But when his face and voice both harden like that, it's different. It's not a threat, not the idle malice that she's gotten used to, but something sharper and more pointed. It's beyond an order - it's the promise of punishment if she happens to disobey.
It's familiar. Maybe that's why she's so unsettled by it.
So she responds almost thoughtlessly, as she's been trained - a polite bow of the head, the sort of abbreviated curtsy a maid might give the lord of the house. ]
Of course. I wouldn't think of it.
[ She wonders, of course, just what use a dragon has for a wardrobe full of such lovely, well-kept finery, dresses and blouses and skirts in every color of the rainbow and all of them finer than anything she's ever owned or worn herself. Part of her wonders if they're trophies, the remains of other foolish girls like her who'd put themselves at the mercy of a beast like him...
But then she remembers the look of visceral, unfiltered misery that had flashed across his face too quick for him to hide it the moment he'd seen her wearing one of them and the thought quickly fades. ]
I'll start right away, if there's nothing else you need me to do. ... But I'll need cleaning supplies, if you have them.
[ He hadn't thought much of it at the time. How long has it been since those things had been used? How long has it been since this land was something more than what it currently is?
It was just clothes. That's all they were. They held sentimental value, sure, and it was only a temporary arrangement. He really shouldn't be getting held up on such things anyway...
And yet the second he saw her in just one of those dresses... emotions bubbled up so uncontrollably he must have been truly intimidating for the briefest of moments.
It probably didn't help that they fit her perfectly, somehow.
In any case, his hostility fades with her curtsy, and he sighs. ]
Good. And yes, we have cleaning supplies... I imagine you'll make better use of them than the Mors do.
[ And here one would typically expect him to assign one of those said-Mors to take her to where they're kept... and yet instead, he gets up off of his throne and stretches his arms. ]
Hah... come on, then.
[ ...is he, by any chance, just as bored as she is? ]
[ She doesn't even bother to hide her surprise. Of the things she's gotten used to in her time here, being escorted to and fro by the Mors is one of them. She certainly doesn't like it, but it happens enough that it doesn't actively bother her any more. She'd expected more of that, if she was to be escorted at all rather than being pointed in the right direction and told to figure things out herself. But now the Mors King is coming along too.
She hastily rearranges her face into something more contrite. ]
Ah, not that there's a problem, of course... I just thought you'd have better things to do with your time.
[ Of course, to a dragon as old as he seems to be, time probably doesn't come at quite as much of a premium, but... ]
Hmph. Of course I do. However the Mors handle those things fairly often, and it wouldn't be very productive if you died because their curses are soaked in.
[ Though theoretically as a Saintess she'd have some resistance to that kind of thing, but the potential consequences of letting this go outweigh the inconvenience here.
Totally not because he's bored due to following his end of the bargain and not attacking Fragaria. ]
Besides, monitoring your country is so dull. I needed a walk.
I know it's really not the point but um. That can actually happen?
[ in her defense, Fragaria has very little documentation on the Mors outside of "do not engage" so there had been all of nothing for her to learn but. What an exciting and anxiety inducing piece of new information to learn after she's already been hanging out around them for the past two and a half weeks. ]
I-is there something I need to do to make sure it doesn't happen to me? It'd be inconvenient for you if I came here as as a tribute then got sick or worse while I was trying to be useful...
Yeah. Well, not that I've had a chance to see it happen, but curses are tricky like that. Left unchecked, they tend to affix to the nearest physical object so they can move to the next unfortunate soul to come across them.
[ Maybe he shouldn't be so forthright with the nature of his servants, but hey, it's not like she'll be going back home anytime... ever.
In any case, he continues to stride through the castle, not quite caring about how his stride is larger than hers, so she has to put in more effort to keep up. ]
Well, you are a Saintess. If you're worth anything as one, some leftover curses ought to be child's play, no?
The nearest physical object, huh. Like a precious belonging. A castle.
A kingdom.
The thought simmers in her mind for a moment before she forces herself to dismiss it and picks up her pace a bit to keep up with him. ]
I'll do what I can. We don't really know anything about Mors in Fragaria so I'll have to learn how to handle their curses myself... but so long as they aren't trying to curse me on purpose, I should be able to manage it.
[ not that she'd put it past him to tell them to try. but. ]
Hmph. Just channel your magic through yourself. It’ll either work and prove your worth as a Saintess, or you’re weaker than a lingering curse.
[ He reaches the chamber where the cleaning supplies are kept, striding inside and scanning the tools. Everything is fairly worn from frequent use for who knows how long… but nothing is in too much disarray. ]
…Tch. This little? I shouldn’t have bothered.
[ He sighs and turns around, tail swishing and briefly smacking the ground in annoyance. ]
Consider this a test. If you can’t deal with something of this level, then Fragaria has completely forgotten the meaning of the word “saintess”.
[ This little, he says - it's more than she'd expected to get to work with, especially in a castle with so few other occupants. Really, she's surprised there's anything to use at all. ]
Mm. I can manage with this easily. There's no problem.
[ The lashing of his tail catches her by surprise, though. He always plays at bored irritation, but even though his expression hasn't changed - that's the first time it'd moved since she'd walked into the throne room. Maybe he really had been as bored as he looked. ]
If there's things to dispose of or dirty water to dump out, where would you prefer me to do it?
Who cares. That's for you to figure out. As long as you aren't making a mess of the inside, do whatever you want.
[ His tail now drags on the floor in disinterest, his expression slowly changing to match. Sure, it would probably be better if he was at least a little more helpful... but is it really so surprising that he isn't? ]
[ This is more help than she was expecting to get, honestly... ]
Mm. I'll change my clothes then I'll get started.
[ She dips her head in a polite little farewell and then sets off back to the bedroom to do just that.
... Come to think of it, though, isn't that the first time she's willingly exposed her back to him he entire time she's been here? Usually she instinctively protects her vitals like prey, but... ]
[ He glances at her briefly as she sets off... briefly striking him as unusual as well. It's not like she hasn't had her back to him... in fact, she's forced to have her back to him every night, to expose herself and submit to him.
Yet for some reason, he can't help but instinctually notice the opening that she just provided... an opening that he normally has to pry out of her. ]
...
[ He scoffs and leaves the room, his tail smacking the ground once more. What is he going on about now? It's just her back, it's not a big deal... ]
[ It feels a little... invasive, almost to be cleaning someone else's quarters. She might be staying here, but she's under no illusions that this is her space - just one she's permitted to occupy until he grows tired of having her around. But she's a guest here and one not really earning her keep, so the least she can do is tidy.
She changes her clothes - a dark blouse paired with a dark skirt seems safest - and sets to her task as promised. It's not as though there's terribly much to do with the Mors handling the day to day upkeep but the smaller details and more fiddly tasks have slipped through the cracks and those take the majority of her time.
She doesn't so much as glance at the wardrobe.
But her anxiety unwinds a little as she works. She'd been terribly restless, wound up with nothing to do and even though this is physical labor it's almost a release to do it. So much so that while she's in the midst of mopping the floors in the late afternoon - one of the last things she has to do before retrieving the laundry - she catches herself half-humming, half-singing to herself as she goes. ]
[ Oberon does exactly what he says, making his way back to his throne room and promptly sitting himself down and supposedly monitoring the outside world through his Mors... but in truth, "lazing around" is a more apt description of what he's doing.
After all, it's not like they can do anything about him. That they gave up their Saintess is proof of that much.
Yet even then, his senses are sharp enough that he can catch disturbances within the castle with ease. Sure, as a dragon this is a given, but even moreso within his own domain. It's how he's so confident that there's no escape for Ai... he'd be able to tell the second she tried.
Speaking of her, it really does seem like she's working rather diligently. It's baffling, really. He knows he'd made it clear that there was no chance of her escaping, but a part of him did wonder if this was all some kind of ploy for an escape attempt...
And yet if he focuses, he can hear the sound of her rustling around, mopping the floors, handling the smaller details that the Mors fail to pick up on in their autonomy. ]
Hah...
[ He can only sigh, really. What the hell is he even doing, he wonders? This is hardly the kind of captivity that should be expected of him, but... ]
...Hm?
[ Something catches his ear, something different... something small, but different enough from the usual that his attention is grabbed by it.
...no, it'd be more accurate to say that he's captivated by it. ]
[ It's been a while since she'd had reason or opportunity to sing, hasn't it? It'd been the first thing Saitou had used to sell her - how could a girl with a voice this angelic not be blessed? - but it'd fallen by the wayside quick when he'd realised just how much more captivated people were by her grace, her youthful beauty, her supposed purity. If she was in the mood to find it ironic, she might have laughed.
It's a shame, though. It's not like she's a musician or anything, but... she's always liked singing.
The songs well out of her, even though it's really not the time or place... it's a good distraction. And more importantly, she doesn't want to forget any of the music that kept her going in Fragaria. She sings folk songs and lullabies, all while scrubbing the floors and only trails off to give a satisfied little sigh when it looks like she's done. Then she scoops up the bucket of water, turns around and- ]
Ah-!
[ Promptly comes within a hair of spilling it. H-hold on, when did all those Mors start crowding in the open door?! ]
[ The Mors King isn't aware of it, of course. If he were, he'd have put a stop to it right away... but while he himself scoffs and tries to tune out the sound of her voice echoing through the halls... his servants seem to have other ideas.
Weird to say, considering that they're supposed to be mindless. ]
...
[ It's a peculiar sight, really. The Mors take all kinds of shapes... some of them are just blobs of dark mass with glowing orbs for eyes. Others take more humanoid, armored appearances, like knights... even though they still consist of the same black mass of curses. Further than that, some have even copied the forms of various normal Monsters.
This all comes together to make them all rather intimidating, a scourge on the land that threatens even other monsters. They're powerful, hard to kill, and often times fighting just one is enough to leave a human bedridden afterwards, if not outright dead.
And yet right here, in front of the open door, stands a crowd of various Mors, each with their unblinking and glowing eyes locked directly onto the Saintess-turned-maidservant.
In any other scenario, this would be a sign to make peace with one's god before they're brutally killed... and yet none of them make any movements. Sure, there's so many of them that the door is now thoroughly blocked, but they seem to be intentionally keeping their distance. ]
[ Perhaps understandably, there's a good ten seconds where she freezes in place and simply meets the stares with a wide-eyed one of her own. She might be getting more used to them after spending so much time in their presence now she's here but that doesn't make it any less terrifying to be suddenly faced with a crowd of them. Her heart slams into her chest and she waits for them to rush her but... no. They're just staring.
What are they even doing here...? Is she being watched to make sure she does a good job? No, even if he did bother to send one of them to keep an eye on her, that didn't explain the entire crowd. And it doesn't explain why they're so... intent. Or why they're keeping such a careful distance.
[ Perhaps unsurprisingly, there's no response... but they still remain adamantly in the door, as if expecting something from her... maybe? Honestly with how little they have in the way of expressions, it's hard to tell what they want. Especially since, by all means, they shouldn't "want" anything.
With that said, there really is a lot of them, isn't there? If she looks closely, she might be able to see that there's even more Mors crowded out in the hallway on account of them not actually moving into the room.
It really is excessive. Too excessive for something he would do, especially since one Mors alone is enough to deal with her. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ Honestly, it wouldn't be wrong to describe the place as "dreadfully boring". The land itself was clearly meant to be lived in by other creatures, but has instead fallen into disarray and neglect... save for the castle, in which the bare minimum amount of upkeep is attended to by the Mors King's mindless "servants" that wordlessly roam the halls... and even then, most of them only serve the purpose of security via patrol.
Still, for a dragon, this didn't really bother him. In the first place, most dragons simply stay in their lairs all the time anyway, and the Mors King is unusual in that regard, seeing as how a castle is fairly unsubtle for a lair.
...but what can he say? He's attached to this place.
Still, the situation is admittedly a little frustrating... the way she barely even flinches at his touch now. Completely pliant and without a single protest...
...well, that is exactly what he demanded of her, he supposes. He really shouldn't be annoyed that she's doing as she's told, but it's becoming clearer to him that this Saintess—false though she may be—will not break.
Yet still unwilling to push past the boundary that he himself has set, he's found himself stuck. Hell, if anything, hasn't he accomodated her more than he's tormented her? The stores of the castle are, for the first time in countless years, stocked with food so that she doesn't starve. She has clothes to wear (albeit only to his personal preference), she can bathe regularly... and though she must sit through being groped all over every night, she's then able to sleep in a warm bed.
...what the hell, has he gone soft!? Ugh... he's in the middle of contemplating how to amp up her torment when she appears before him...
...and quite frankly? Asks something ridiculous of him. ]
...What? Not satisfied with just giving me your body?
[ His words are clearly meant as yet another jab, an insult aimed at her lack of purity despite being a Saintess... but he sounds so bored as he says it that it can only fall flat. Even his tail, normally hidden, droops lazily off to the side. ]
no subject
[ Maybe she would feel differently if he really had gone through with it and actually used her - at the very least, she would have felt much less inclined to make herself useful. But this strange game they've been playing where he toys with her and she yields to him has left her feeling restless. She's bored - something she hasn't had the luxury of feeling in a long time but the novelty has quickly started to wear off. ]
There has to be something that needs doing that your servants can't handle. I might be a fake Saintess, but my magic is still the real thing. So I might as well put it to some use.
[ She's annoyingly... earnest about this whole thing. ]
no subject
[ It's throwing him off more than it should, he realizes. She does realize she's still a captive here, right? Sure, she's free to roam the castle (barring certain sections where Mors Guards will promptly bar her from exploring any further), but it's not like she can leave. A single escape attempt and not only would he kill her, but he'd attack Fragaria in retaliation.
So can he really be blamed for being a little awed at the fake Saintess before him now asking for work to do? Most prisoners would rejoice at not having to do any physical... labor...
...is that what he's doing wrong!? No, what he's doing wrong is not going through with his promises and using her properly... but not putting her to work isn't helping either. ]
...Hmph. Unfortunately for you, my land has no need of a Saintess' magic, fake or otherwise.
[ A bit cruel to the dead and desolate land they're on, but it's not as if he intends to have any subjects
again.There's no point in healing this place, and in the first place, it's too damaged to be healed by one measly saint. ]...but I suppose you're right. These guys are about as dull as dull can get.
[ At the end of the day, even if he assigns them other roles and routines, the Mors are only really good for killing. Anything unrelated to that and the results are either subpar or the bare minimum. ]
no subject
Mm. I've noticed they're not very smart. [ ... she says it in that same unruffled, matter-of-fact voice that somehow makes it worse than if she'd been intentionally trying to insult him. ] They react to things and follow orders but that's about it.
[ Of course, the same could very much be said of her as well, but that's a thread of self-loathing to pick at another time. Anyway! ]
Still, that's all the more reason I should be useful to you. Even if you don't have any need of my magic, surely you won't object to me keeping busy, will you?
[ Not that she's entirely sure what she could keep busy with. She can't cook, she's not strong enough to help with the maintenance of the castle, the grounds outside are barred but even if they weren't, it's not as if she knows anything about gardening. Really, there's no particular skill in any trade that would be helpful for a dragon. But she can't stand the thought of sitting around doing nothing for much longer. ]
no subject
...well, if the Saintess wants to do more than warm my bed, then I suppose I've no reason to refuse. The Saintess, a maidservant... not bad.
[ He brings his clawed hand to his chin, thinking for a moment. He could always just tell her to clean and maintain the entire castle and relish in the impossibility of such a task for only one person, but he'd prefer she actually do something substantial. ]
Fine, you can clean, can't you? The Mors can handle most of the castle, but there are certain chambers I'd like better maintained, mine included. Consider yourself lucky I'm not assigning you to the entire castle.
no subject
I will. I'll do my best to meet your expectations. [ She dips her head in a polite nod. ] Thank you for letting me be of service.
[ And she actually means it, which is the worst part of all. ]
Do you want them to be maintained in any particular way? I've always been told dragons are very particular about their dens.
[ ...not that she's ever heard of a dragon who lives in a castle, but still. ]
no subject
He drowns it out with a laugh at her query. ]
Hah! Particular, huh... you humans have learned to understate it, then? Step into a dragon's den for any reason and you've effectively forfeited your life. Us dragons are a little more than just particular about our dens.
[ So he says, not addressing the fact that he himself is fairly strange for a dragon, even if his strength is unmatched. ]
Just clean it to your human standards. Dust, clutter, the bed... ah.
[ His expression suddenly turns... serious, and yet reminiscent of one of their earlier mornings, when it hit them that Ai had no other clothes to wear. ]
...you are not to touch my wardrobes. Do whatever you want with yours, but stay the hell away from mine.
no subject
It's familiar. Maybe that's why she's so unsettled by it.
So she responds almost thoughtlessly, as she's been trained - a polite bow of the head, the sort of abbreviated curtsy a maid might give the lord of the house. ]
Of course. I wouldn't think of it.
[ She wonders, of course, just what use a dragon has for a wardrobe full of such lovely, well-kept finery, dresses and blouses and skirts in every color of the rainbow and all of them finer than anything she's ever owned or worn herself. Part of her wonders if they're trophies, the remains of other foolish girls like her who'd put themselves at the mercy of a beast like him...
But then she remembers the look of visceral, unfiltered misery that had flashed across his face too quick for him to hide it the moment he'd seen her wearing one of them and the thought quickly fades. ]
I'll start right away, if there's nothing else you need me to do. ... But I'll need cleaning supplies, if you have them.
no subject
It was just clothes. That's all they were. They held sentimental value, sure, and it was only a temporary arrangement. He really shouldn't be getting held up on such things anyway...
And yet the second he saw her in just one of those dresses... emotions bubbled up so uncontrollably he must have been truly intimidating for the briefest of moments.
It probably didn't help that they fit her perfectly, somehow.In any case, his hostility fades with her curtsy, and he sighs. ]
Good. And yes, we have cleaning supplies... I imagine you'll make better use of them than the Mors do.
[ And here one would typically expect him to assign one of those said-Mors to take her to where they're kept... and yet instead, he gets up off of his throne and stretches his arms. ]
Hah... come on, then.
[ ...is he, by any chance, just as bored as she is? ]
no subject
You're coming along?
[ She doesn't even bother to hide her surprise. Of the things she's gotten used to in her time here, being escorted to and fro by the Mors is one of them. She certainly doesn't like it, but it happens enough that it doesn't actively bother her any more. She'd expected more of that, if she was to be escorted at all rather than being pointed in the right direction and told to figure things out herself. But now the Mors King is coming along too.
She hastily rearranges her face into something more contrite. ]
Ah, not that there's a problem, of course... I just thought you'd have better things to do with your time.
[ Of course, to a dragon as old as he seems to be, time probably doesn't come at quite as much of a premium, but... ]
no subject
[ Though theoretically as a Saintess she'd have some resistance to that kind of thing, but the potential consequences of letting this go outweigh the inconvenience here.
Totally not because he's bored due to following his end of the bargain and not attacking Fragaria. ]
Besides, monitoring your country is so dull. I needed a walk.
no subject
I know it's really not the point but um. That can actually happen?
[ in her defense, Fragaria has very little documentation on the Mors outside of "do not engage" so there had been all of nothing for her to learn but. What an exciting and anxiety inducing piece of new information to learn after she's already been hanging out around them for the past two and a half weeks. ]
I-is there something I need to do to make sure it doesn't happen to me? It'd be inconvenient for you if I came here as as a tribute then got sick or worse while I was trying to be useful...
[ INCONVENIENT. FOR HIM. SURE. ]
no subject
[ Maybe he shouldn't be so forthright with the nature of his servants, but hey, it's not like she'll be going back home anytime... ever.
In any case, he continues to stride through the castle, not quite caring about how his stride is larger than hers, so she has to put in more effort to keep up. ]
Well, you are a Saintess. If you're worth anything as one, some leftover curses ought to be child's play, no?
no subject
The nearest physical object, huh. Like a precious belonging. A castle.
A kingdom.
The thought simmers in her mind for a moment before she forces herself to dismiss it and picks up her pace a bit to keep up with him. ]
I'll do what I can. We don't really know anything about Mors in Fragaria so I'll have to learn how to handle their curses myself... but so long as they aren't trying to curse me on purpose, I should be able to manage it.
[ not that she'd put it past him to tell them to try. but. ]
no subject
[ He reaches the chamber where the cleaning supplies are kept, striding inside and scanning the tools. Everything is fairly worn from frequent use for who knows how long… but nothing is in too much disarray. ]
…Tch. This little? I shouldn’t have bothered.
[ He sighs and turns around, tail swishing and briefly smacking the ground in annoyance. ]
Consider this a test. If you can’t deal with something of this level, then Fragaria has completely forgotten the meaning of the word “saintess”.
no subject
Mm. I can manage with this easily. There's no problem.
[ The lashing of his tail catches her by surprise, though. He always plays at bored irritation, but even though his expression hasn't changed - that's the first time it'd moved since she'd walked into the throne room. Maybe he really had been as bored as he looked. ]
If there's things to dispose of or dirty water to dump out, where would you prefer me to do it?
no subject
[ His tail now drags on the floor in disinterest, his expression slowly changing to match. Sure, it would probably be better if he was at least a little more helpful... but is it really so surprising that he isn't? ]
You can clean as you please. I'm heading back.
no subject
Mm. I'll change my clothes then I'll get started.
[ She dips her head in a polite little farewell and then sets off back to the bedroom to do just that.
... Come to think of it, though, isn't that the first time she's willingly exposed her back to him he entire time she's been here? Usually she instinctively protects her vitals like prey, but... ]
no subject
Yet for some reason, he can't help but instinctually notice the opening that she just provided... an opening that he normally has to pry out of her. ]
...
[ He scoffs and leaves the room, his tail smacking the ground once more. What is he going on about now? It's just her back, it's not a big deal... ]
no subject
She changes her clothes - a dark blouse paired with a dark skirt seems safest - and sets to her task as promised. It's not as though there's terribly much to do with the Mors handling the day to day upkeep but the smaller details and more fiddly tasks have slipped through the cracks and those take the majority of her time.
She doesn't so much as glance at the wardrobe.
But her anxiety unwinds a little as she works. She'd been terribly restless, wound up with nothing to do and even though this is physical labor it's almost a release to do it. So much so that while she's in the midst of mopping the floors in the late afternoon - one of the last things she has to do before retrieving the laundry - she catches herself half-humming, half-singing to herself as she goes. ]
no subject
After all, it's not like they can do anything about him. That they gave up their Saintess is proof of that much.
Yet even then, his senses are sharp enough that he can catch disturbances within the castle with ease. Sure, as a dragon this is a given, but even moreso within his own domain. It's how he's so confident that there's no escape for Ai... he'd be able to tell the second she tried.
Speaking of her, it really does seem like she's working rather diligently. It's baffling, really. He knows he'd made it clear that there was no chance of her escaping, but a part of him did wonder if this was all some kind of ploy for an escape attempt...
And yet if he focuses, he can hear the sound of her rustling around, mopping the floors, handling the smaller details that the Mors fail to pick up on in their autonomy. ]
Hah...
[ He can only sigh, really. What the hell is he even doing, he wonders? This is hardly the kind of captivity that should be expected of him, but... ]
...Hm?
[ Something catches his ear, something different... something small, but different enough from the usual that his attention is grabbed by it.
...no, it'd be more accurate to say that he's captivated by it. ]
no subject
It's a shame, though. It's not like she's a musician or anything, but... she's always liked singing.
The songs well out of her, even though it's really not the time or place... it's a good distraction. And more importantly, she doesn't want to forget any of the music that kept her going in Fragaria. She sings folk songs and lullabies, all while scrubbing the floors and only trails off to give a satisfied little sigh when it looks like she's done. Then she scoops up the bucket of water, turns around and- ]
Ah-!
[ Promptly comes within a hair of spilling it. H-hold on, when did all those Mors start crowding in the open door?! ]
no subject
Weird to say, considering that they're supposed to be mindless. ]
...
[ It's a peculiar sight, really. The Mors take all kinds of shapes... some of them are just blobs of dark mass with glowing orbs for eyes. Others take more humanoid, armored appearances, like knights... even though they still consist of the same black mass of curses. Further than that, some have even copied the forms of various normal Monsters.
This all comes together to make them all rather intimidating, a scourge on the land that threatens even other monsters. They're powerful, hard to kill, and often times fighting just one is enough to leave a human bedridden afterwards, if not outright dead.
And yet right here, in front of the open door, stands a crowd of various Mors, each with their unblinking and glowing eyes locked directly onto the Saintess-turned-maidservant.
In any other scenario, this would be a sign to make peace with one's god before they're brutally killed... and yet none of them make any movements. Sure, there's so many of them that the door is now thoroughly blocked, but they seem to be intentionally keeping their distance. ]
no subject
What are they even doing here...? Is she being watched to make sure she does a good job? No, even if he did bother to send one of them to keep an eye on her, that didn't explain the entire crowd. And it doesn't explain why they're so... intent. Or why they're keeping such a careful distance.
She swallows uncertainly and wets her lips. ]
Um... hello?
[ ...
What is she doing... ]
no subject
[ Perhaps unsurprisingly, there's no response... but they still remain adamantly in the door, as if expecting something from her... maybe? Honestly with how little they have in the way of expressions, it's hard to tell what they want. Especially since, by all means, they shouldn't "want" anything.
With that said, there really is a lot of them, isn't there? If she looks closely, she might be able to see that there's even more Mors crowded out in the hallway on account of them not actually moving into the room.
It really is excessive. Too excessive for something he would do, especially since one Mors alone is enough to deal with her. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)