[ At first, of course, Hermione wants to protest the whole 'wife' business, but then Tamamo keeps going and she feels... Overwhelmed, but not in a terrible way. She feels as though she has to say something, but the words just don't come - they don't settle in her mind and for the first time in a very long time she's genuinely speechless, from her mouth all the way up to her brain.
She had never seen herself that way, of course. Her friendship with Diarmuid had been built upon affection and a shared understanding that came from him being a witness of her failures, of caring about each other and having that become a literal connection between them, but she had never felt as though she was better than him. She had never even dreamed about using his Command Spells for anything but helping if he needed it, and the idea of using the ones she had for Tamamo felt wrong and unnatural, somehow.
Hermione just can't imagine abusing that kind of power.
Vaguely, she remembers a time where Gilgamesh had offered the power of a Spell and she had just asked him to smile. One, pure, honest smile, just for her, and it had felt like the greatest gift in the world.
A little overcome, she moves and presses closer to Tamamo, shifting herself and pressing her face into the other woman's neck. For a moment it looks as though she's fine, but she can't really fight the tears that tickle at the corner of her eyes and trickle down, mostly because the sheer emotion and belief tied up with all the wonderful things... It just feels like too much, like a person that can't possibly be her. She's not that good, she knows it, and if Tamamo was aware of all the things she'd done and all the choices she'd made...
All she can do is breathe out. ]
Thank you - I... Thank you. That's - it's nice of you to say.
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She had never seen herself that way, of course. Her friendship with Diarmuid had been built upon affection and a shared understanding that came from him being a witness of her failures, of caring about each other and having that become a literal connection between them, but she had never felt as though she was better than him. She had never even dreamed about using his Command Spells for anything but helping if he needed it, and the idea of using the ones she had for Tamamo felt wrong and unnatural, somehow.
Hermione just can't imagine abusing that kind of power.
Vaguely, she remembers a time where Gilgamesh had offered the power of a Spell and she had just asked him to smile. One, pure, honest smile, just for her, and it had felt like the greatest gift in the world.
A little overcome, she moves and presses closer to Tamamo, shifting herself and pressing her face into the other woman's neck. For a moment it looks as though she's fine, but she can't really fight the tears that tickle at the corner of her eyes and trickle down, mostly because the sheer emotion and belief tied up with all the wonderful things... It just feels like too much, like a person that can't possibly be her. She's not that good, she knows it, and if Tamamo was aware of all the things she'd done and all the choices she'd made...
All she can do is breathe out. ]
Thank you - I... Thank you. That's - it's nice of you to say.