[ Things have been a lot quieter over the last few months; Hermione is truly settled in her role now, as much as she could be as she learns the ropes, and she knows that she has to adjust, to get herself better prepared for what she thinks is going to be ahead. There's going to be wars, battles, and she's been patrolling the road she was in charge of protecting, creating and enforcing law and order upon.
What she needed was to prepare herself for that, which wasn't entirely easy.
She had her rapier, she had enough money to commission a sword, if she wanted, and she had a shield and some beautiful dress like armours, as well as her cloaks, but she needs a little more than that. The armour she is trying on isn't hers, but it's a design that she might adopt if she does go ahead and commission her own, trying to get a sense for what feels right and what is comfortable; she's not a professional when it comes to this, even if she is trying to do what she can to learn and adapt.
The noise of the door draws the attention of her and the people attending her and she hesitates for a moment, unsure, before she nods her head and gives the people around her a quiet dismissal. They move around her, quickly and precisely, and they unstrap the leather under the metal, peeling it off and drawing it away, leaving her in the light leathers underneath. When the armour is on the stand to one side, waiting for her to go back to it, she turns her head over to Gilgamesh and offers him a smile, watching the door open as the servants trail out.
She wonders what he wants; she isn't sure if she can trust him coming to speak to her and she's careful, letting her eyes flick over the canine figure before she goes and sits, pushing hair out of her face. ]
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What she needed was to prepare herself for that, which wasn't entirely easy.
She had her rapier, she had enough money to commission a sword, if she wanted, and she had a shield and some beautiful dress like armours, as well as her cloaks, but she needs a little more than that. The armour she is trying on isn't hers, but it's a design that she might adopt if she does go ahead and commission her own, trying to get a sense for what feels right and what is comfortable; she's not a professional when it comes to this, even if she is trying to do what she can to learn and adapt.
The noise of the door draws the attention of her and the people attending her and she hesitates for a moment, unsure, before she nods her head and gives the people around her a quiet dismissal. They move around her, quickly and precisely, and they unstrap the leather under the metal, peeling it off and drawing it away, leaving her in the light leathers underneath. When the armour is on the stand to one side, waiting for her to go back to it, she turns her head over to Gilgamesh and offers him a smile, watching the door open as the servants trail out.
She wonders what he wants; she isn't sure if she can trust him coming to speak to her and she's careful, letting her eyes flick over the canine figure before she goes and sits, pushing hair out of her face. ]
Come on in, Gilgamesh.