timeskip logging.

[brainiest]

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[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."

[depicted]

"You're missing out on an excellent source of stress relief," he answers, but he accepts the handsqueeze anyway.

And starts thinking about which of his friends in Parrais would make a good match for Hermione. Perhaps he can ask Fionn to help him brainstorm. And Orna has a good head for such things...

[brainiest]

"That's what reading and magic is for. In any case, I can't imagine the being too many people that would be interested in me now. I'm too busy and too... Me to be able to give them even half the attention they deserve."

Which is part of the problem, she supposes. It's nice to joke, though, to move away from the ring and the worry about protection - to just be able to relax and be with her friend for as long as she can.

[depicted]

"You can't just have reading and magic! And perhaps you'll find a made workaholic such as yourself to wed." He tugs on one of her strands of hair. "I've decided: we're going to Parrais. We'll find someone for you yet. I don't think they have clubs, but I could always start one."

[brainiest]

"I certainly can. Books and magic are very important, you know." She grins, reaching to tug at his hair in return, a gentle movement before her fingers card through it. "I don't need a club, either! Honestly, Dorian, I'm more than happy just as I am. I have you and my friends, my family, my work... I'm fine."

[depicted]

With a pout, he moves his hands so he can cover his hair.

Even so, he isn't deterred. "You didn't list 'fun' in that, so I'm not satisfied with it."

[brainiest]

And all Hermione does is grab at his hands, linking their fingers.

"Being with my friends and family is fun."

[depicted]

"It isn't enough fun."

[brainiest]

"And what, exactly, is so fun about kissing that I'm missing out on it?"

Her eyebrow raises and she gives Dorian a look, careful.

[depicted]

His expression becomes innocent. "Would you like me to show you?"

[brainiest]

"Dorian!"

Her hands drop, cheeks pink, her expression shocked and embarrassed.

"You - I really don't think that's entirely necessary, at all. You don't have to kiss me just to make a point."

[depicted]

"It wouldn't be to make a point." For everything that he has become, for all that he is—there is a purity in this. A candour of meaning, an earnest expression. A strange variation on the boy she once knew.

"It is pleasurable, kissing. Fun. I want you to have fun. If you won't look outside your friends, I would hardly be put-upon to give you that pleasure myself."

What's a little making out between friends?

[brainiest]

Her eyes flicker over his face, careful and unsure, her hands reaching for his before she hesitates. He makes it sound so easy, like kissing is just what people do - so different from the man that had taken a few months to be comfortable calling her by name.

"It - um. I have kissed people before. It might have been a few years ago but that doesn't mean I don't remember. I know that it's nice to kiss people, but... I mean, I, um. I don't think that's what you want from me, really. Is it?"

She's unsure. Dorian is her friend and she does love him, but kissing? That's another matter entirely.

[depicted]

Dorian huffs out a breath of air, exasperated. It's like she hasn't been listening. "I don't want it from you, Hermione. I want it for you. You can't deny yourself the world forever, Hermione."