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[brainiest]

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[brainiest]

"Because I was Seelie, I think, and the Unseelie were trying to stop us from saving the dragon from under Redgate. I wasn't hurt at all, it was mostly just... Unpleasant. I've suffered far worse."

She doesn't think this is the time to tell Dorian that she is a veteran of both war and torture, used to the feeling of pain coursing through her, trying to suffocate her from the inside out, branding her in a scar that had only healed this year.

[depicted]

Given that he might try to punch a hole in the walls between realities, perhaps it is indeed ill-advised.

For he frowns now. This time, he respectably reaches for a knife to put jam on his toast. "I'll fashion you a secondary communicator, something discrete. If you're in such trouble again . . ." Although if blood granite stops her magic, it won't let his messages go through. He frowns, trying to think of a way around this.

[brainiest]

It takes her a moment but, eventually, Hermione moves, settling back and shifting to cross her legs under herself on the chair. Not particularly formal, but this is Dorian.

"The compass I had made then worked as I was travelling, but as soon as I was in the dungeon it stopped." She pauses, considering. "Maybe something like the - no, um, ignore that." The ring Gilgamesh gave me. That was magic, too, and she really doesn't think it's an apt thing to mention.

"I'm not sure what can counteract the blood granite."

[depicted]

"Maybe something like what?"

He knows a sidestep when he hears it.

[brainiest]

"Ah."

She hesitates, shifting a little, awkward as she reaches to fiddle with the handle of her teacup.

"My ring. From Gilgamesh."

[depicted]

"He gave you a ring."

More tea into the cup.

"When he proposed?"

[brainiest]

Hermione makes a soft noise, sipping from her tea before she speaks.

"That is what people do when they propose, Dorian."

[depicted]

"My understanding is that returning the ring is what people do when they reject a proposal. Hermione."

[brainiest]

"He told me to keep it! It would be rude to just - just force him to take it back."

... Though she supposes it's a little daft, keeping hold of it for so long afterwards. She sighs.

"I don't keep it with me. It's right at the bottom of my chest."

[depicted]

A moment of silence, and then a sigh. "May I see it?"

[brainiest]

"... Of course."

She reaches to the side, leaning over to pick up her wand.

"Accio ring."

And, of course, it rattles out of the chest, flying into her hands. She had shown him it, at least the box, on that awful day... But now he's going to see the real thing. She leans over, holding the box out for him to take.

[depicted]

He opens the box up, looks inside. Looks back up at her after a moment. "What is the magic of it?"

[brainiest]

"Blood magic," Hermione admits quietly. "A drop of his, in the middle with his blood. He said it would, um, respond to my touch or my distress if I brush against it and he'd come to my side."

I will hear it, the aching that resides within the depths of your heart, and I will come.

[depicted]

Nothing from his mouth as he turns the ring over in his fingers. Studies its brightness, the look of the blood. The setting of the stone. It is a pretty thing.

He looks up at her. "He likely means that oath. And . . ." A breath in. Then, a slow exhale. "And perhaps it is protection worth wearing."

[brainiest]

"He said that it was a symbol of the both of us. Red and gold, for him, and white for me."

She hesitates, looking over at the ring and pausing, something caught in her throat. She had been, admittedly, very touched and warmed by the thought that had gone into it, even as the proposal had shocked her.

"I can't wear it, Dorian. Not knowing what it means, who gave it to me. I know what he wanted from me now and I can't..."

Hermione looks away.

[depicted]

It is held in Dorian's fingers, not hers. So perhaps Gilgamesh cannot sense her distress. He hopes that he cannot, that he cannot have the pleasure of this, that Hermione's pain gives no one satisfaction.

Yet still he reaches to her, covers her hand in his. "I won't insist that you do. If you can't bear to wear it, then I'll ask Gilgamesh how he made it and have a second made for you. As long as you're protected."

[brainiest]

The ring is a beautiful thing, she thinks, well made and obviously fit for her station, but looking at it just makes her hurt. It makes something deep twist inside of her, that familiar knife of betrayal that's still resting in her gut, and she wishes she could be rid of that feeling forever. He doesn't deserve that, not from her, surely.

"I might wear it if I didn't know what it meant," she says finally, turning her hand to link their fingers. "It's really wonderful, you know, finding out someone never cared about you, just your magic."

[depicted]

A tug on their linked fingers; an indication that he is there for her.

"Yeah, he's kind of a bastard like that, isn't he? You're better off without him."

Except that if Hermione ever is in danger, and Dorian cannot reach her, it is Gilgamesh who he will send to her side. Gilgamesh may be a monster, but Dorian has come to rely on that monster. For better or for worse.

"I'll make one myself. I've got a ring that lets me know if another friend of mine is in trouble; I can have something made for you."

[brainiest]

Her hand squeezes his back, gentle and assuring, letting herself bask in this.

"Says the man in a contract with him?"

She raises her eyebrow, not judging, just teasing. She shifts, leaning against him and shaking her head, letting out a soft sigh. This really is her life now, isn't it?

"One day someone will give me a ring just because they like me, not to make sure I don't get into ridiculous amounts of trouble."

[depicted]

"Command Seals," he reminds her. "Besides that, I'm a match for him with what I am now."

He strokes back her hair. "We can set you up with a guard captain. They're usually very dashing. Well-built, athletic, plenty of stamina. Good moral codes, too."

[brainiest]

"I don't doubt it."

Her faith in Dorian is, even now, unwavering and solid, leaning into the touch of his fingers with a soft noise.

"The only captain I know is Cullen and I think he might be interested in someone else. Maybe I'll just be a bachelor, like Queen Elizabeth."

[depicted]

"Queen Elizabeth almost certainly had multiple lovers," Dorian points out. "What about a stablehand? Great muscles on those boys, and they're usually so sweet with animals. I can have one brought to your quarters, no questions asked."

[brainiest]

"I don't - Dorian!" Face pink, she shakes her head. "I don't want any, um. Stable hands or captains or anything of the sort. I'm not really interested in anything like that and I've never..." Ah. Perhaps that's too much information. She purses her lips. Never had sex is what she means, of course, and her dating history is hardly revolutionary.

[depicted]

Dorian gently pats her hand, completely understanding. "In that case, shall we start you off with some blind dates? If you like artist types, I know many eligible young men and women in Parrais who would love your facial structure. But I'd stay away from actors, so let's keep you away from the Cothromach."

[brainiest]

All she can really do is laugh.

"Dorian! I'm fine, really. I'm not desperate to be in a relationship, not in the least. I have enough on my plate without trying to manage worrying about boys and dating, don't you think? I am a Marchioness now, that means I have to focus. I don't need to be with someone to be happy. I just need my magic and my friends and I have both of those."

She squeezes his hand.

"Thank you all the same."