DH AN:Although I think the prompt casually smashed to pieces,from the Live Journal community 31 Days,fits really well for several reasons, it wasn't the source of the Plunny. The inspiration for this was a passage in Jennifer Linforth's final installment in her Madrigals Trilogy, Rondeau . As I neither remember the small bit of inspiration verbatim, nor have the piece in question in my possession at this time, the above prompt will serve just as well.
Timeline: Six Months after The Prologue in Powers Revealed,and right after the events of a flashback in Season Three; as details regarding location are vague in said flashback, I've taken a bit of liberty and placed certain details where needed.
#38:The R.H. & Arlomhe Sharti (Marik & Mhera)
Madness' Echoes
It took all of Arlomhe Sharti's discipline to prevent herself from dropping the note in her hand out of horror as she mutely surveyed the sight that met her when she entered his office. Papers were strewn everywhere, as if it had merely taken one sweep from each arm to render the desk clear of them. She quickly spared a glance to the right, silently wincing as she saw the fragments of a black coffee mug on the floor, smashed beyond recognition save for the shard that had the handle still intact. She silently attempted to piece together a scenario for what could have led to this uncharacteristic disarray. At the end, she only was left with one perceivable idea: The R.H. was not pleased.
She turned on her heel to leave when she heard him rise from the chair that was facing away from her upon entrance. "Don't take another step, Sharti." His authoritative voice echoed softly throughout the room. She spun slowly to face him as he stepped towards her; she took note that his hood was lowered and his face bore no expression. "That note in your hand states that I desire to meet with you, does it not?" Expressing what his face refused to, his words were harsh, short and crisp; accenting his personal, unseen displeasure at his current circumstances.
Arlomhe swallowed slowly as she attempted to still the fear clawing at her mind and affecting her stomach; something was very wrong. The words he used and the tone of his inquiry far too quickly brought pallor to her face. "Y-yes, i-it does. Now doesn't seem to-to be a good t-time." She shook so hard that it affected her words.
"You rarely stutter in my presence." The R.H. stated bluntly, voice softening only slightly with his next statement. "You also temporarily forget that you are not the one who decides these matters." His voice was far too controlled, far too calm.
"M-my apol-" She was shaking along with her voice once more, unmasked trepidation seeping through her words. "M-my-My apologies, S-sir."
"Quit stammering, you foolishly incompetent child!" The R.H. hissed through clenched teeth. Arlomhe's brows shot up out of surprise and it took what was left of her discipline to conceal the anguish threatening to write itself on her face.
Inhaling deeply to grant herself a moment to regain her inner composure, her words were soft and did nothing to betray her forced calmness. "Something is wrong and has upset you greatly." The statement passed her lips almost emotionlessly. She was surprised and grateful that her bout of stammering was over for the moment. "I needn't know what it is."
"You want to." The R.H. stated through clenched teeth as he swiftly closed the gap between them. He grabbed her, forcing her to face the door as he none-too-gently pressed her back against the cloth of the front of his cloak, his right arm holding her in place with only his wrist and hand making contact with her. She felt the controlled, slow rise and fall of his chest as she attempted to combat the fear that only increased with each calm cycle. "You know a part of you that wants that knowledge." He stated after two minutes.
"I don't want to know what, rather…I-I want to know why."
Arlomhe tensed as she felt the cycle shift with the addition of his soft, staccato laughter. "You wish to know why?" He repeated the last portion of her statement incredulously after five repetitions of this new cycle. "Why what, Sharti?"
"I've never… I've never seen your office in such a state of disarray." She murmured calmly.
She did not even have to add the logical single-word inquiry to the end of her statement. He exhaled softly, panning from right to left with his non-dominant, left hand. "To understand this 'why', you would first need to understand this 'what.'" His tone once more offered some form of self-directed distaste, this time it almost went unperceived.
"I don't want to know the what! I-I merely want to understand!" Arlomhe was unable to hide fear proven by her frantic exclamation and shaking voice. The years of knowing better than to show fear had ended; the emotion that never rightly expressed itself for almost eight years was now mercilessly brought forth by this master manipulator.
The R.H. withdrew his right arm from its restraining position far too swiftly to be granting her release. This was confirmed when she felt slight pressure on her midsection from his left arm; he was indeed preventing a potential escape. She stayed still, attempting to assuage fear's swift seizure of control over her demeanor as an uneasily familiar golden object cut into her line of vision. "Before you could even begin understanding this 'what' and this 'why', you would first need to fully understand, among other things, my methods." The R.H. continued with a hardened, forcibly explicatory tone. Arlomhe inwardly shuddered as she noted his refusal to acknowledge the object now gripped loosely in his right hand. "Do not attempt to understand them, foolish girl. You could very well go mad seeking to placate me in my own madness." He wrenched her to face him and Arlomhe shuddered as the right wing of the golden object pressed far too gently into her neck. "I'd rather not see that happen to you." Arlomhe had difficulty determining the sincerity of his last statement; his voice was still far too soft, the fury within it far too controlled.
"You truly think yourself mad?" Arlomhe's breath seemed to hitch when The R.H. far too slowly drew the Millennium Rod away from her and placed it back onto the desk.
"I would think you have heard enough rumors to expect it… that you would have been prepared for this." The voice of The R.H. was a chilling whisper. "Or have you forgotten that, over one of these rumors, you once slapped Nashin so hard on the cheek that there was a bruise present for two weeks?"
"That was not a rumor, it was an insult." Arlomhe's soft voice bore conviction that temporarily masked the fear that still lingered within it.
She watched his hands withdraw from their restraining positions. She turned to face the door as a challenging inquiry from The R.H. resounded throughout the room. "Is it an insult if what was said proves true?" From the corner of her eye, she saw The R.H. had stepped back both physically and figuratively. Arlomhe provided no answer. "You think otherwise." He observed with a softer tone, accompanied by an almost unseen rise of his right eyebrow.
"It was a blatant lie!" Her words were crisply defensive as she went rigid with mild ire, glaring daggers at the door.
"Because you see me as you have… you belong to me, Dear One …" Arlomhe stood still as he stepped behind her and shuddered slightly as she felt his fingers briefly brush across her shoulders. His voice became smoothly alluring as he circled her once. "More than once you were easily manipulated into playing right into my hands… How can you be certain that all my presentations to you have been accurate, without any attempted guile?" The R.H. leaned his head towards Arlomhe at his next statement. "Can you be certain that my past demeanors have been anything more than mere facades to keep you under a sense of security that you perhaps now see proven false?" He stopped his circle and stepped away from her.
"I believe that you already know the answer to that, Master." She spoke the last word softly as her posture sagged, fear frantically clawing at the back of her mind in time with the protests of her common sense.
Silence was his only response. The sound of his footsteps, five calm and calculating paces at equal two-second intervals, broke it. Each step was akin to the tolling of a deep bell in Arlomhe's mind. "Turn around and look at me." He spoke, voice growing terse as he gently rotated her by the shoulders. "Gaze once more upon your closest deceiver." When Arlomhe finally raised her eyes to his visage, The R.H. paused with lips pursed in an unreadable expression before continuing further. "Where did you find the audacity to now liken Father to Master…The Master you would never address as such…At your Father's request?"
Arlomhe sighed softly as she found her voice. "The one who is responsible for this," She simply inclined her head to the shattered coffee mug, panning her eyes over the numerous documents scattered and out of place on the floor. "Has no other title." She inhaled, preparing for the reaction to what she would say next. "He accepts no failure and lacks the discipline to deal with that failure with the necessary patience required." She felt his fingers press hard into her shoulders, and despite the dull throbbing pain, she continued. "As 'Master', he is more meticulous than usual and when something displeases him, it doesn't come across that he knows how to handle it in a dignified manner. The mere idea of being in the same room with him after those instances frightens most." Knowing that she truly was out of line with her past two remarks, Arlomhe silently resolved not to speak further.
"But it does not frighten you?" The R.H. inquired as he slowly removed his hands from her shoulders and gripped her arms instead. She gave him no verbal answer, but her quickly paling face revealed enough to him. He relinquished his grip on her without another word.
Arlomhe took two steps backward, only to step on a piece of scattered paper, and feel her heart leaping into her throat as she slid backward and downward. A hand with piano thin fingers deftly grabbed her right arm, and she felt the other hand suspend her above the floor.
"I will not see you fall to anyone when you are capable of standing against them." His breathing once more took on a slow deliberate cycle as he studied her further. "I know that you are more than capable of standing up to me." His brow knotted slightly. "You seem to doubt yourself on this."
"What makes you certain of that?" Arlomhe asked as she searched his eyes for an answer, somewhat fearfully unsurprised when she found nothing.
"You are watching your words...more than usual." Aside from his slightly narrowed eyes, his face was expressionless as he held her above the floor. "Through that, you show me your fear." The R.H.'s eyes narrowed further in slight distaste as he pulled Arlomhe onto her feet and thrust her into the central seat of the three seats near the door. Cupping the girl's chin in one hand, he spoke with a gently chilling tone, the controlled fury still present in his voice. "You know better than to show fear in front of me." Drawing his hand away, The R.H. turned swiftly on his heel. "It is nothing more than a form of weakness that I will not see you show."
Numb, Arlomhe stood slowly and, bending down, started to gather stray papers into her hands with intent to place them into manageable stacks.
"Leave them as they are." She froze as The R.H.'s calm voice halted her actions. "You will not resolve what was not your own doing, not this time." He turned back to face her as she stood. "When you understand why I ask this of you, you will begin the process of comprehending the 'what' of this situation." He exhaled softly through his nose, nudging the small stack of papers into their former disarray with the tip of his right boot. "With this, you begin to understand me."
"Understand you?" Arlomhe questioned softly. "Sir…" Her eyes searched his face once more. "I understand all that I need to."
"No. You do not understand… not what you must in order to know why my mind is in the state that is mirrored simply by the state of my office." The R.H. looked towards the bookshelf on his left. "And I cannot give it to you… it would be far too much for you to bear."
"I do not wish to know." Arlomhe shook, her voice was faint as she searched his face once more, seeing the pensive expression come to it far too easily. "I've never seen you like this… it…it terrifies me."
"You're terrified of me?" The R.H. stepped toward her once more, stopping at arm's length. "This is the last thing I would expect you to say… and yet I am surprised that you did not admit this sooner." Despite their small height difference, he loomed over her. "You best tell me the truth." He watched her wrestle an answer to his question. "You should be terrified," he began, voice icily soft. "for your face tells me more than your words ever will. You are frightened by your own uncertainty." He paused briefly. "I manifest that uncertainty to you." Arlomhe blanched, slamming back into the chair. Frightened, she turned away as he sighed softly, gently tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
"Your state of mind frightens me." Arlomhe's voice was a hushed whisper when she finally brought herself to speak. "Not you."
"So you think I am mad?" His words were dangerously soft and his inquiry hung in the air.
"That's neither what I said nor is it something I would dare imply." Arlomhe's eyes narrowed slightly as mild fury began to restore color to her face. "Do not put words in my mouth that I hope I will never need."
"What if I am mad and you merely refuse to acknowledge it?" The R.H. quipped, tone softly terse.
"Acknowledging something that is not true… It would be a betrayal." She stood abruptly. "That is something I will not allow." She stepped forward purposefully, confidence bringing her tone to a crescendo, the combination of which forced The R.H. to step back for the first time in this conversation. "That is why that bruise on Noinreil's face was so noticeable. He wasn't just insulting you, he was insulting this." She accented the last word hotly as she gestured to the interior of the office. "He was insulting your methods, not just your demeanor." She exhaled through her nose, speaking soon after with a softer tone. "I know all I need to about your methods and that is that they work." She was shaking slightly. "To a point, to understand you is to understand this," She gestured once again to the shattered coffee mug. "But to understand this is not to understand you." Her gaze immediately fixed on the tiles at her feet. "Anyone could have met this result if the factors were right."
"What do you mean, Dear One?" Her head snapped up to watch The R.H. as he stepped around her, dropping lightly into the chair on her right. He inclined his head to the chair she previously occupied. Arlomhe stepped backward and seated herself in the indicated chair. He looked forward, choosing not to acknowledge her actions. "What do you mean?" He repeated somewhat listlessly. "Are you saying that anyone could become mad as I am?" His voice was soft, any of the prior fury gone from it; she could have sworn The R.H. savored this moment that he was free from his own fury. She deduced that these moments were far and in between to a certain degree. "I would never choose this."
"I am not saying that all are susceptible to madness, nor am I saying that you have chosen or succumbed to any sort. I mean to point out that anyone could have created this mess without the action having the same meaning." She heaved a loose sigh. "You yourself stated that this disarray serves as a key to understanding your state of mind, a key to understanding why." She gestured to the interior once again. "You are not a madman." She wrung her hands in slight frustration at the implication The R.H. brought forth. "A madman wouldn't quite know how to deal with other people."
"You describe me to a certain degree with that statement; most of my employ has proven to be incompetent when given the simplest of tasks."
Mentally conceding that The R.H's statement was somewhat accurate, Arlomhe pressed on. "A madman wouldn't care."
"I don't." His response was immediate.
"You do care." Arlomhe stared him down. "The tapestry proves it. If you didn't-"
"That is very different." Drawing out the twin syllables of the third word of his statement, The R.H. tensed in his chair, tone livid. "You will not bring anything involving her into this conversation." Ice and the briefly concealed fury entered his tone with his next sentence. "Is that understood?"
Arlomhe nodded, ceding control of the conversation to The R.H. with a loose sigh. She stuffed her hands into her lap, glowering at them and her somewhat ire-driven forgetfulness, when a thought occurred to her. "I'm proof that you care… that you aren't mad." She murmured.
The R.H. stood slowly. "You make me care." He stepped around behind her chair, leaning on the back of it. "You do not take advantage of my patience…you give me use for it and something called sympathy." He set his hands on her shoulders. "I should perhaps learn from you…"
"What could you possibly learn from me?" Her brows furrowed.
"I learn to lengthen that usually small amount of patience." He supplied as if it were obvious. "I learn your methods."
"How can you learn my methods when I cannot do the same in regard to yours?"
"Learning and understanding do not mean the same thing." The R.H. reasoned. "I learned why you took the proposition and what led you to it, but unless I piece those fragments in the correct order, those are merely my conjectures. And even if I do piece them correctly, that is after observation. I will never fully understand your reasoning behind those actions almost eight years ago." He paused before speaking once more, closer to her ear. "Upon entering, you saw the literal fragments of this situation and still know nothing of what brought me to my ire, but you tread cautiously in an effort to either appease me or merely prevent my ire from increasing further."
Arlomhe swallowed hard, paling slightly. Had it really been so obvious?
"You are always far too careful around me, and make your intentions more obvious when you try to conceal them." He stepped in front of her, cupping her chin in his palms once more. "When, Dear Arlomhe, will you realize that you have no need to act so… civil and composed when you are here?" The soft staccato laughter resounded throughout the room once more. "It amuses me when you gain a spine." Delicately running a finger down her left cheek, he continued. "You only allow your ire to rise when you can control it. Because of that and your control over all of your emotions, you are not shying away from me now."
"I trust you. It has nothing to do with emotional control, but everything to do with trust." Arlomhe's voice was firm as she tentatively reached to curiously trace one of the dark markings under The R.H.'s eyes with a gentle touch. She inhaled slowly as she felt that the marking was smooth and ingrained into the skin. "They're tatt-!" The R.H. placed a gentle finger over her lips to prevent the word from escaping, after which he drew his hand away slowly.
The R.H. encased her one hand in his two, drawing it away from his face. "You thought it was simply an application of kohl." He surmised. Arlomhe nodded in confirmation, temporarily dumbstruck. "How innocent you still are…" He drawled as he gently pressed Arlomhe's hand into her lap, his voice gaining a slight edge of insanity as he continued. "I could reveal to you things of which you would know nothing unless I told you of their significance." He took two steps back from her and turned away from the slight insanity, as he braced himself on the desk briefly. He then placed his hands behind his back, lacing his fingers together, dipping his chin to his chest. "But that would require knowledge I'd rather you not have."
"I said to you before that I do not wish to know." Arlomhe exhaled resolutely. "I know you will tell me only if and when you are ready."
The R.H.'s head snapped up and he quickly spun on his heel to face her. "How simultaneously wise and foolish you are."His tone softened with his next phrase. "You should know your curiosity only got you into trouble once. What would another instance of that bring? Perhaps nothing too severe would meet you. Have you forgotten how you were simply allowed to return to the upper corridors after your first time here?" With a small sigh, Arlomhe indicated that she still remembered the instance of which The R.H. spoke. "I could have taken you as my Huntress then and there."
Arlomhe shuddered as she watched him place his palms on the desk behind him. "However, I chose to wait." He paused with a soft sigh. "You know that if it had been in my power, I would have waited longer." Leaving his left foot planted on the stone tiles, he crossed his right leg over his left.
Arlomhe was silent, permitting The R.H. to continue. "You always exhibit this phenomenal awareness when you walk on very thin ice with my emotions." He watched Arlomhe pale slightly. "And it always shows on your face." He murmured almost inaudibly. "You wonder how I know this." His words were crisp, almost questioning as the pointer and middle fingers of his right hand walked across the glass top of the desk as he stared intently at her. "It returns once more to your utterly obvious and pathetic attempts to conceal your emotions." He paused before continuing, closing his eyes with a soft sigh, opening them once more, catching her in his gaze. "Somehow you constantly manage to meet the demands that are continually placed upon you with success as your usual reward." He stopped, seeing an expression on her face that had nothing to do with his current train of thought. "If you have a question of me, you are free to ask."
"How long…how long would you have waited?" Arlomhe inquired softly.
"I know you realize that I cannot give you that answer with any degree of certainty." The R.H stated calmly. "The circumstances would have needed to be extremely right." He sighed loosely as he fixed his gaze upon her once more. "You know that as well."
"What circumstances were in your favor eight years ago?" Arlomhe shook as she spoke. "What was it about those circumstances that you couldn't ignore?" She stood, going rigid once more as she inhaled sharply, fighting back tears.
The R.H. was silent. He calmly observed her somewhat ire-stricken, almost tortured expression while ensuring his own countenance was expressionless. He stood, taking two almost silent steps toward her. "If there is something more you wish to say, then speak Sharti." His voice had once more become terse and fury lingered in undertone. He was disgusted at her hesitance, at her doubt; deep down, he was most disgusted with her fear presenting so blatantly in her every action during this encounter; the hesitance in her question serving as proof. Even when the girl stood up to him, there was still that sense of fear that lingered about her.
"How can you think me an incompetent child…when you fail to see that …as Master…" Her breath hitched when that word left her lips, as if it were painful. "That what you took away from me cannot be replaced?" Arlomhe swiftly shrugged out of her sleeved cloak and let it fall loosely from her frame. After stepping backward out of it, she hung the fabric from two of her fingers at his eye level. "Was this worth my childhood?" Her question hung in the air and she did not press for an answer.
Whatever color remained in Arlomhe's visage quickly left her as she saw The R.H. step back as if he were slapped. He inhaled deeply once before he stepped forward, forcing Arlomhe to step backward until her back met the wall. Piano thin fingers of one hand carefully drew the cloak from Arlomhe's possession while the other hand rested on her face. The R.H. pursed his lips as he rubbed the cool cloth along his fingers. "Perhaps it wasn't." He murmured lightly as he tossed the cloak somewhat carelessly onto the back of a chair behind him after which both arms dropped to his side. "However, the fault does not lie entirely with me, Dear One, for you took and have chosen to abide by the proposition for almost eight years now."
"I was given no other choice." Her attempts to fight her own tears were proving useless.
"You had another choice." He hissed as his eyes narrowed and his hands contorted into tight fists. "You simply refused to see and take it."
Arlomhe finally succumbed to her tears. She did not see his expression soften through her closed eyes as The R.H. stroked her cheek with his right thumb once, catching a tear in the process.
He didn't protest as she then soaked his robe with her tears. However, he was not at all prepared for her knees to buckle, forcing him to bear her weight. If it were anyone else, he would have pushed them away without a thought.
Not her.
No matter how much he tried to keep the familial ties between them as far away from his mind when within the lower corridors and the persona that came with it, in some way those ties always managed to resurface. The R.H. fought a wince as his knees hit the floor in order to prevent himself from falling backward while the girl used him as a brace. Each of her sobs pulsated through him as her calm façade finally broke. Her doubt, terror, and fear washed over him without words. It disgusted him that he could do nothing to stop it… that he was the cause.
If it were anyone else, he wouldn't think them anything more than weak.
Not her.
He inched her chin up to where it now rested securely on his left shoulder. He silently wrapped his arms around her and with a gentleness usually reserved only for a certain tapestry, ran his fingers through her soft hair once. He sighed with relief as her sobs ceased. He felt her hands gently grip the loose fabric of his robe and gritted his teeth as he heard her shaky sigh.
"Why show me pity?" She inquired softly, voice almost a whisper.
"It is not pity." The R.H. stated firmly as he stood, a grimace affixed to his face. "You know that it will never be pity." He paused, his tone regaining its characteristic edge as he spoke next. "Pity is nothing more than a facet of weakness."He extended his hand towards her slowly. Inhaling solemnly as Arlomhe took the hand offered her, his expression and tone softened once more. "It is not pity," He repeated as he pulled her back onto her feet for the second time in this encounter. He led her towards the desk, directing her gaze at the reflective glass top. "It is clearly so much more than that, when taken in a different perspective." His voice was soft, perhaps suggesting that the prior statement was meant more for his own ears. "What you call pity is a misclassification. Unlike pity, what I exhibit to you now is something that I cannot ignore regardless of the fervency with which I attempt to."
"And that is?" Arlomhe arched a brow curiously.
"You are mine, Mheralo." The phrase was soft and careful, the name within it sounding foreign simply within the context of this conversation while simultaneously natural to the purpose of what he said next. "I belong to you…as much as you belong to me. Because I have seen you as I have, I know your intricacies. Because I know those intricacies, I am better able to observe details that some would say are mere subtleties." The R.H. flashed a seldom seen genuine smile. Though the expression was small, there was no mistaking it. "Because I observe these small details, I have the task of discerning the right time to reveal my observations to you, and a responsibility not to bring any sense of humiliation on account of them."
"Why did you want to see me?" The girl pressed, changing the subject.
"Do I need to inform you of my reasoning behind summoning you here?" He almost snapped back in reply, the smile quickly vanishing from his face. "Sit." He ordered somewhat sternly, expression impassive as he watched her oblige without protest. His brows rose as the girl then stood and made to remove the cloak from the back of the chair to her right. "Why…why do you wish to reclaim that for which you just recently expressed great resentment?"
"The situation requires it, Sir." She stated somewhat sharply as she shrugged into the garment. "It also traps heat… I always seem to need reminding of that." The softness of her previous statement left with her next phrase. "What matter requires my presence?"
The R.H.'s eyes narrowed. "You also need constant reminding that you are not the one who decides what path a conversation within my office takes."The ice quickly swept to his tone, as he proceeded to the opposite side of the desk, seating himself in the executive chair. He swiftly laced his fingers together and placed his elbows on the desk's glass top. "I suppose I should expect nothing different; you've always been rather predictable…" He drawled, lips pursed when the usual look of shock was absent from her face. "When something nerves you, as everything in this encounter has to some degree, you always wish to attend to the matter which brings you into my office in quick order." The R.H. watched Arlomhe nod minutely in agreement with his statement. He continued. "You wish to avoid the discomfort the divergences bring." He stared down at her. "It is an admirable quality, to be ever mindful that your presence was requested for a reason."He murmured. "However, this presents as another instance of your desire for promptness being a mere masking of your hesitance." He leaned over the desk. "I can assure you that your fears are misplaced. If it were a matter of incompetence on your part, it would have been addressed immediately."
"That still does nothing to answer my question." She pressed.
"You leave for Luxor in one week." He stated.
Arlomhe's brows shot up. Without moving her face, her eyes darted around and quickly took in the disarray with a new sense of awareness. With that one central word, The R.H. had given her the 'why' to the situation, incomplete as it was. "Something happened at Luxor…" Her voice drifted off and her face grew ashen; both factors only served to accent the fear in her voice. "You returned this morning…you-you said you would return here after four days…it's…it's only the second day." She started to minutely fidget.
"I never said where I went." The R.H. responded far too calmly.
"You never- you never return early." Her stammer returned with the first sentence but left with the second, her fidgeting ceasing as well. "Granted Luxor is not terribly far-"
"How is it that you are reading all of this simply from a shattered mug and a few scattered papers?" He snapped.
The interruption of her prior statement allowed for a return of confidence or at least relief from her recent somewhat fear-driven remarks. "Your reaction is giving me reason enough to think my inferences are inching closer and closer to the truth." She watched his hand clench into a tight fist of frustration.
"You test your limits with me, foolish girl." The R.H. hissed, each word laden with mounting ire.
"Twice now you've called me foolish!" The R.H. heard her anguish attempting to conceal itself through anger; he knew mastering that took years and that she had yet to even begin to come close to its successful employment. Or perhaps the only reason he saw the attempt as a failure was because he had mastered the technique so long ago. "Is that what you have always thought… that I am a fool?"
The R.H. inhaled before responding. "In some ways you always have been." He stood, stepping over towards her, bending to speak softly into her ear. "You are a fool to continually trust me without question." He brushed his fingers over her shoulders once more, somewhat satisfied as he felt her shiver with his next statement. "A fool because you carry on without being ever aware of the power I could have over you and a fool because you are never wary of me because of it." His tone shattered whatever calm strength the girl possessed at that moment. "When you recall that power I could exercise over you at a mere whim, it is only because I bring it into your sight." He exhaled loosely. "You are fortunate that I can exhibit such patience towards you despite how you test it so." The R.H. let his fingers slide from her shoulders slowly as he stepped to her right. "Yet these two repeated instances of foolery are nothing in comparison to your greatest failing." His voice was still a whisper, but it resounded throughout the room as his first statement within this encounter had. "It is the failing that brought you to me as my Huntress."
"It wasn't the resolution of the proposition." Arlomhe's words were hollow. She knew that suggestion wasn't what he referred to; it was too obvious.
"You are correct in your statement; it isn't the presence of your signature on that contract. However you incorrectly think that as a failure. Those who do not follow through with an agreement exhibit failure." He strode over to the desk and took his seat and gazed across the desk at her. "You followed through with the terms of our agreement."
"Well, what is my greatest failure?" Once more, the girl's words held no perceivable substance. This bothered the man behind the desk; he had heard some form of conviction behind all of her portions of the conversation until now. The sudden lack of this bothered him, gave him the impression that she saw her words as worthless, further that she saw attempting to speak with him as a task without merit without any perceptible positive outcome. He never wanted her, or her efforts, to seem worthless.
Pushing these more sentimental thoughts aside in favor of answering the inquiry asked of him, The R.H. responded with an unwavering steady tone. "In retrospect, addressing this as 'your greatest failing' was not the wisest way to do so. However, the several instances in which you have placed your own well-being under that of others in the most dangerous of circumstances worry me greatly."
"Would you rather I hadn't?" Arlomhe inquired hotly."I cared for you when you were ill with bronchitis because you asked me to." She sighed. "Why is it that you see it as me ignoring my own wellbeing?" She paused. "If I hadn't slipped into that meeting… who would have?"
"One of those two fools."
"You wouldn't have even considered a proposition for them."
"What gives you that idea?"
"You just spitefully called them fools."
"Does that matter?"
Arlomhe gritted her teeth in frustration. She was tired of and simultaneously baffled by The R.H.'s bluntness. "It may not matter to you, but no one deserves to be at your mercy without their own full consent."
"There seems to be something you have yet to tell me, Sharti." The R.H. threaded his fingers together and placed his elbows back onto the desk. "For eight years I have been under the impression that you just happened to follow Nashin and Yagasawi to the entrance of the atrium." He exhaled loosely. "How you managed to keep me under that impression, I have no idea, but you best tell me the truth." He smirked and watched her squirm under the expression. "It isn't written on your face this time."
"You know that I didn't lie."
"The matter stands that I never inquired about it before, and am more than certain you are capable of understanding that anything regarding that detail was never asked of you simply because it failed to pique my interest until now." His smirk faded, replaced by the pensive expression that always set into his face with far too much ease. "If what you have to tell me differs from what I observed, that admission on your part will better allow me to understand why you took the proposition without complete consideration of the consequences."
"I did consider the consequences, of both my actions and my inactions." Arlomhe stated softly. "Take it for what you will, but I knew…some part of me knew and still knows you wouldn't harm me." She sighed, slowly raising her eyes to meet The R.H.'s gaze, an indication that she would indeed satisfy his request. "It was right after you showed me…" She squirmed somewhat uncomfortably as her eyes repeatedly darted between the Millennium Rod and The R.H.'s gaze.
"Go on." He gestured with his hand for her to continue, easily deducing the event she was referring to.
"I was heading back to my allotted room and heard voices in the hall. I hid behind a wall, lest I intrude upon a conversation that wasn't mine to hear." She stuffed her hands into her lap. "Noinreil was attempting to convince Sheon to sneak in with him. He insisted that I could cover for them." She sighed loosely. "At first, I resolved I wouldn't do anything."
"Clearly that resolve failed." He murmured. "Did they eventually ask you to cover for them?"
"No."
"So you went of your own volition?"
"You don't understand."
"Make me understand."
"Out of the two of them, Noinreil or Sheon, which one do you think would have been the one to make the misstep?"
"There's more than what you are telling me." The R.H. chose not to answer the question directly. "You cared deeply for him even then." The R.H. paused, a small smirk gracing his features. "Am I correct?"
"I know you aren't blind, and I certainly didn't do it for Noinreil."
The R.H. nodded slowly. "So you did this for Yagasawi?"
"You've known the answer to that for years." Arlomhe slowly stood from her seat. "I made my choice right after Sheon stepped out of that kitchen." Shaking her head minutely, the girl sighed and soon after, spoke once more. "To change the subject, what is the reason for my pending departure to Luxor?"
The R.H. wordlessly pulled out an envelope marked with an official letterhead from a desk drawer. "You received this letter six months ago; I kept it safe, at your request. The letter herein details that my sister would be hosting an exhibit in Luxor. She requested you join her before the exhibit moves to its next destination. It leaves Luxor eight days from now."
Arlomhe dropped back into her seat speechless with mouth agape, wanting to avoid connecting the dots that The R.H. laid out for her. Slightly gritting her teeth, Arlomhe's eyes frantically darted around the room once more. This can't simply be the result of…he's incapable of…of this completely furious madness…over something so…so trivial. Her eyes stopped moving, gaze fixed on the wall behind The R.H.'s chair.
The R.H. watched the girl in the chair before him, not too keen on watching her eyes dart every which way as she inadvertently began to piece things together once more. He knew that the action was first performed as soon as she walked into the room; after all, she was predictable and observant. It bothered him that her face had gone ashen with fear, that she attempted to avoid making eye contact. However, he believed her refusal to inquire anything of him was what bothered his mind the most. He finally spoke. "Why so silent, Dear One?" He watched her eyes finally still completely as his inquiry simultaneously added tension as easily as it cut through it.
"Is there anything else you need of me?" Arlomhe was squirming uncontrollably, making clear attempts to avoid The R.H.'s gaze.
"If you desire to leave and end our conversation, you know that you merely need to ask."
"Please." The single word was strained and barely audible as she swiftly stood, her posture rigid with self-inflicted trepidation.
The R.H. merely nodded once, noting that the girl rigidly paced to the door. Any prior time, he would have asked if she were attempting to hold something from him, some bit of knowledge that wasn't hers to keep. However in the moment she slipped out the door, he realized that he could not ask her to surrender whatever it was she now held in her conscience. Asking her to do so would be a betrayal, torturous to her already burdened mind. He found himself unwilling to admit to himself that Arlomhe Sharti was one of the few remaining fragments of his fragile sanity. Pacing to the pile of fragments of his black porcelain mug, The R.H. picked up the piece possessing the handle and held it gently between his fingers.
DH:It was long, I apologize. Please Review? And if you have any questions…please ask, this oneshot is admittedly long and somewhat sporadic in direction.