Is that what you were doing? I figured he was suffering the poor Marchioness through more of his poetry again...
[Was this all they could manage with each other now? Polite little quips, back-and-forth, civil glances exchanged in the face of everything else that wasn't. He curses Dorian. He hates Dorian as much as he adores him. If not for him, then...
If not for him, he'd have less than nothing now. Gilgamesh lets the brief rush of anger go. He'd brought this upon himself. Hermione stuck that particular thorn in as far as it could go, far enough he'd never forget it.
She's as endearing as ever, in her quiet sort of way, and he hates that too. He really does hate Hermione Granger, just as he hated Saber. All these beautiful women in his life who defied him at every turn. All these silly little girls he'd fall forever and a half for. He'd choke her with that bloody ring if he could, and at least then it would've been all for him and no one else.
The servants await him outside his door. They look concerned, but he waves them off before they can say much. Hermione will see it firsthand once she enters that the room is nearly empty now. She is a silly girl, and a terribly smart one. She will see it and she will know without a word on the matter.]
I suppose we're a little spoiled, aren't we? Servants, I mean. [His smile turns a touch wry.] Strength is effortless for us. We can win wars all on our own, decimate entire nations, conquer half the world in a matter of days. If we want to protect ourselves, we just do, and that's all there is to it.
[Especially for a King among them, who once possessed a great treasury to fill them all with envy. Once, but no more.]
We don't live like humans. We live only to fight. That's the curse of the Grail, some have said.
no subject
[Was this all they could manage with each other now? Polite little quips, back-and-forth, civil glances exchanged in the face of everything else that wasn't. He curses Dorian. He hates Dorian as much as he adores him. If not for him, then...
If not for him, he'd have less than nothing now. Gilgamesh lets the brief rush of anger go. He'd brought this upon himself. Hermione stuck that particular thorn in as far as it could go, far enough he'd never forget it.
She's as endearing as ever, in her quiet sort of way, and he hates that too. He really does hate Hermione Granger, just as he hated Saber. All these beautiful women in his life who defied him at every turn. All these silly little girls he'd fall forever and a half for. He'd choke her with that bloody ring if he could, and at least then it would've been all for him and no one else.
The servants await him outside his door. They look concerned, but he waves them off before they can say much. Hermione will see it firsthand once she enters that the room is nearly empty now. She is a silly girl, and a terribly smart one. She will see it and she will know without a word on the matter.]
I suppose we're a little spoiled, aren't we? Servants, I mean. [His smile turns a touch wry.] Strength is effortless for us. We can win wars all on our own, decimate entire nations, conquer half the world in a matter of days. If we want to protect ourselves, we just do, and that's all there is to it.
[Especially for a King among them, who once possessed a great treasury to fill them all with envy. Once, but no more.]
We don't live like humans. We live only to fight. That's the curse of the Grail, some have said.