[ Beisht, like her husband, was a woman with a sharp tongue and a wicked pride. To swallow both now was taking visible effort as she kept her chin high under Rex Lapis's piercing gaze. ]
"I would not be standing here if I didn't understand the gravity of the situation. After all, the easier path might have been to lie in wait and take my chances with an ambush. These four walls were built with your hands, but they have been fortified with Osial's might. Perhaps we would have had the advantage."
[ She sighs low and long, shoulders slumping as she continues to keep that gaze, not cowed, but accepting. The extension of an olive branch. ]
"But what does that get the both of us? More bloodshed. More corpses.
I stand before you now because even at the heart of betrayal, you look to the future and not to the past. I beseech not your emotions, but your logic. A battle here will cost much to both sides, so let us find a common ground that we can both walk away from this. Allow me and mine to leave Liyue, exiled if you prefer, to lands more suited to us of the sea. And allow us to offer recompense for what you have already lost.
If you will entertain that, then speak I will to what is in the best interest of us both."
[ There's another brush of shoulder to Morax's right, feather-light and too small to be noticed by Beisht. It's both a warning and a vow. A warning that she is not to be trusted, for unlike Morax, Azhdaha's loyalty lay at the feet of a person, not of contracts. He did not forgive and he did not forget, and the sorrow that Osial had caused Morax was enough for him to chase the man to the ends of the earth so he could not harm Morax again. For Azhdaha knew the person behind the mask, perhaps more intimately than anyone else. How his voice held firm even when his heart was breaking.
And thus was the vow— to protect Morax in this den of serpents and all that he loved and stood for. To make sure that he returned to the rest of the Adepti safe and sound. But most importantly, to make sure that he would not make a decision that would only drive the knife of this betrayal in further, carving a wound so deep that it may never heal. ]
no subject
"I would not be standing here if I didn't understand the gravity of the situation. After all, the easier path might have been to lie in wait and take my chances with an ambush. These four walls were built with your hands, but they have been fortified with Osial's might. Perhaps we would have had the advantage."
[ She sighs low and long, shoulders slumping as she continues to keep that gaze, not cowed, but accepting. The extension of an olive branch. ]
"But what does that get the both of us? More bloodshed. More corpses.
I stand before you now because even at the heart of betrayal, you look to the future and not to the past. I beseech not your emotions, but your logic. A battle here will cost much to both sides, so let us find a common ground that we can both walk away from this. Allow me and mine to leave Liyue, exiled if you prefer, to lands more suited to us of the sea. And allow us to offer recompense for what you have already lost.
If you will entertain that, then speak I will to what is in the best interest of us both."
[ There's another brush of shoulder to Morax's right, feather-light and too small to be noticed by Beisht. It's both a warning and a vow. A warning that she is not to be trusted, for unlike Morax, Azhdaha's loyalty lay at the feet of a person, not of contracts. He did not forgive and he did not forget, and the sorrow that Osial had caused Morax was enough for him to chase the man to the ends of the earth so he could not harm Morax again. For Azhdaha knew the person behind the mask, perhaps more intimately than anyone else. How his voice held firm even when his heart was breaking.
And thus was the vow— to protect Morax in this den of serpents and all that he loved and stood for. To make sure that he returned to the rest of the Adepti safe and sound. But most importantly, to make sure that he would not make a decision that would only drive the knife of this betrayal in further, carving a wound so deep that it may never heal. ]