{oOo}
Beryl made her way back to visit Fulgrim, after the rather productive discussion she'd had with his father, and still with no way to answer Fulgrim's questions.
Shit. What could she tell him? How far could she go?
...Fuck. She was already at his door.
She knocked.
"Come in," Fulgrim said. He was almost done, he thought. At least there didn't seem to be any obvious things he could add to his report. He wanted to go sleep and forget about it all, if just for a while.
"My lord, shouldn't you be resting?" Beryl asked carefully, not wanting to upset him further. He looked so tired that it made her heart hurt.
"I should," Fulgrim sighed. "Why are you asking me this?"
Because you do not look well, Beryl wanted to say. Because I am worried for you, she wanted to say.
Screw it.
"Because you look as if you need to rest, my lord, and I am worried for you." Shit, he was going to look at her funny... "Is there any way I may be of assistance?" May as well go whole hog.
"I suppose I do," Fulgrim said. For a moment he sized her up. She didn't know him very well and she seemed oddly unaffected by his presence. It probably wouldn't be that much of an assumption to think she would be more objective then one of his Marines, if he asked her for an opinion on himself. It would probably be unpleasant, but... he was tired. He was tired of feeling frustrated and betrayed and like he was suddenly walking on thin ice. "I know you hadn't been assigned long to me, but do you have any oppinions on my officers?"
Beryl carefully considered this. "Most of them that I have.. overheard, that I adore you. I personally dislike Eidolon." This partly stemmed from the fact she'd seen the bastard's file. He was a traitor, through and through in her world and though she tried to ignore it, some of that vicious hatred she felt for what he'd allowed to happen to Fulgrim in her own past-present-future was still there. "Lucius seems to be a bit more arrogant than he should be." which was saying something, coming from a newbie. Who was understating the problem. He was taking too much damn credit. She'd overheard him taking credit for things he'd worked with others on. "..Your officers are hardworking, but if they push their Marines too far, the casualty rates will be too high to be sustainable in the long run."
Fulgrim pinched the bridge of his nose. Eidolon was shaping up to be a problem-he hadn't wanted to think about it, he had hoped he would get settled into his role. And yet, it wasn't like he was blind and deaf. He knew his second Lord Commander was far less popular than Vespasian. "Lucius? You need to be a bit more precise. I think we've got three of them."
"May I?" Beryl asked him, quietly.
"Go ahead," Fulgrim said and added with a hint of wry humour. "Then I'll know whom I need to tell I am very disappointed with them."
Oh he was absolutely gorgeous, but.. well, this was work. Beryl made her way over to the table, and pulled out those who would be.. trouble. First there was the snarky lieutenant who stole credit for others kills. Then she dug out those people who she'd observed or heard involved in ... less than savory occupations. Keeping her face impassive as much as possible, she rooted out those who had been disloyal, one way or the other, and listed their crimes in this world including the abuse of power, in as dispassionate a voice as possible.
Fulgrim watched in silence, trying to remember all she was showing him. He managed to watch it all to the end without saying a word, before he finally decided it was time to eat something. For a moment, he wanted to ask her to take off the visor, but it passed. It would be a stupid request anyway.
"Milord." Beryl said cautiously. "Perhaps you might want to eat dinner with the others?"
If this got her into trouble, well, at least she tried.
At least no one was in here but the two of them, and it was rather warm... She took off her visor, dismissing it without a verbal command. ...Her eyes were warm, as they gazed upon his face, worried and... gentle. She was worried for him. He still didn't look well.
She looked surprisingly different without the visor. He had expected her to still appear business-like and composed, not worried. "Not today. I can eat here."
He glanced at her, hesitating. Human contact would be welcome and she did look worried, and he was still feeling bad about that data sample business. "If you want to, you can stay."
The surprise on his face was adorable, and her eyes lit up with gentle amusement without the visor there to hide them. "Thank you, my lord." she told him quietly. A part of her was glad he'd forgotten his original line of questioning. A part of her worried he'd ask about her absence. She didn't know what to tell him about it.
{oOo}
