some are lost in the fire
some are built from it
Calm and polite to the last, the boy listens to all of them in turn, dipping his head to Rhy as she arrives. He does not interrupt, does not speak out of turn, and does not betray anything other than a stoic, solid military demeanor. He's been trained too well to give away any clues, to show anything of what he thinks (or doesn't think). He is diplomatic and disciplined, and he has faith in the powers of their reasoning. Much as he perhaps shouldn't, he does.
And when finally the queen falls silent, Erebor takes his moment to speak. He looks directly to her, his gaze even and level. "Rhy is correct, I am no spy." He is not grateful to his relation for her defense of him; he doesn't really consider it worthy of thanks to speak the truth. He glances briefly to Joscelin, and the slightest hint of a wrinkle crosses his face, but whether it's a laugh or a scowl isn't certain. "And I was not sleeping. It'd be far easier if I had been sleeping. I was deposited here in the jungle by unknown forces, through no power of my own, and not by my own will." He pauses, looking at all of them. "That is why there were no tracks, because I did not bring myself here. As far as who did, or why," he sucks in a breath, "I'm as in the dark as you are."
He looks directly to Lagertha then. "To answer your question, yes, I can tell you that Straia would let an innocent go." he stresses the word innocent ever so slightly, lingering over it for just a moment. "The Chamber has no need to keep those who are truly innocent and bear us no ill will." he speaks with intensity, but he does not lose his cool. "We may be fierce to our enemies, but to those who have not wronged us? Why keep them?"
If he'd been asked how Gryffen would have handled a trespasser, that would have been a different question. If he'd been asked how quickly that captive would be released, that too would be a different question. But as it is, she'd asked about Straia and she'd used release in its most general sense, and Erebor knows his mother's mind. He remembers the conversations they've had, the discussions about sparing innocents, about throwing their power only when they need a show of force. Nothing good comes of attacking the innocent. They strike at those who defy them – like the Gates, who had spurned an alliance.
"So really, I'd say it depends on the innocence of the sister. If we had no quarrel with her, there'd be no reason to keep her. But if this hypothetical sister had proven herself an enemy of the Chamber…" he pauses for a moment, his brown eyes fixed on the queen. "Would you let an enemy of your kingdom slip away?" He knows the answer is no, as surely as he knows that she's trying to decide whether he is in fact an enemy of the kingdom or not.
Surely, he thinks, she wouldn't dare. Trying to keep him would mean war, he knows it, and considering their show of strength in the Gates, it wouldn't be a war that the Amazons would find easy. They'd come to the jungle, the Chamber turning out in force (because of course Straia would know he was here, out of all the horses in her kingdom she'll know where her Lord is), and they'd burn it as surely as they'd burned the mother tree of the Gates. Surely she has to know that.
He smiles in that accidentally boy-scout handsome way of his. "How lucky for us, then, that I am no enemy of the Amazons." his voice is measured, but confident. "And that my kingdom has done nothing to antagonize the sisterhood." he looks for a moment toward Killdare. "You'll find no Amazonian prisoners within our borders."
And then he is silent. There are so many things he doesn't say. He lets Killdare's presence speak for itself, indicating the barb that has already been thrown from Amazons to Chamber. But most of all he makes no promises about the future disposition of the Chamber. Before he'd come here, perhaps it had been clear that the Amazons is not in the Chamber's crosshairs. But now that he's here, now that he's met them, now that he's seen Killdare again…well, now he starts to wonder.
Not that they'd know where his mind goes. The boy has many years of diplomacy now, many years spent schooling himself to ensure that his face remains pleasant and reveals nothing. And so it is now as he regards the sisters and his battle-brother. He does not fear them, although he does respect their station. He'd rather not see a war start here and now, over him – and if one does, it will not be by his hand. But if war comes, he has no doubt the outcome.
And when finally the queen falls silent, Erebor takes his moment to speak. He looks directly to her, his gaze even and level. "Rhy is correct, I am no spy." He is not grateful to his relation for her defense of him; he doesn't really consider it worthy of thanks to speak the truth. He glances briefly to Joscelin, and the slightest hint of a wrinkle crosses his face, but whether it's a laugh or a scowl isn't certain. "And I was not sleeping. It'd be far easier if I had been sleeping. I was deposited here in the jungle by unknown forces, through no power of my own, and not by my own will." He pauses, looking at all of them. "That is why there were no tracks, because I did not bring myself here. As far as who did, or why," he sucks in a breath, "I'm as in the dark as you are."
He looks directly to Lagertha then. "To answer your question, yes, I can tell you that Straia would let an innocent go." he stresses the word innocent ever so slightly, lingering over it for just a moment. "The Chamber has no need to keep those who are truly innocent and bear us no ill will." he speaks with intensity, but he does not lose his cool. "We may be fierce to our enemies, but to those who have not wronged us? Why keep them?"
If he'd been asked how Gryffen would have handled a trespasser, that would have been a different question. If he'd been asked how quickly that captive would be released, that too would be a different question. But as it is, she'd asked about Straia and she'd used release in its most general sense, and Erebor knows his mother's mind. He remembers the conversations they've had, the discussions about sparing innocents, about throwing their power only when they need a show of force. Nothing good comes of attacking the innocent. They strike at those who defy them – like the Gates, who had spurned an alliance.
"So really, I'd say it depends on the innocence of the sister. If we had no quarrel with her, there'd be no reason to keep her. But if this hypothetical sister had proven herself an enemy of the Chamber…" he pauses for a moment, his brown eyes fixed on the queen. "Would you let an enemy of your kingdom slip away?" He knows the answer is no, as surely as he knows that she's trying to decide whether he is in fact an enemy of the kingdom or not.
Surely, he thinks, she wouldn't dare. Trying to keep him would mean war, he knows it, and considering their show of strength in the Gates, it wouldn't be a war that the Amazons would find easy. They'd come to the jungle, the Chamber turning out in force (because of course Straia would know he was here, out of all the horses in her kingdom she'll know where her Lord is), and they'd burn it as surely as they'd burned the mother tree of the Gates. Surely she has to know that.
He smiles in that accidentally boy-scout handsome way of his. "How lucky for us, then, that I am no enemy of the Amazons." his voice is measured, but confident. "And that my kingdom has done nothing to antagonize the sisterhood." he looks for a moment toward Killdare. "You'll find no Amazonian prisoners within our borders."
And then he is silent. There are so many things he doesn't say. He lets Killdare's presence speak for itself, indicating the barb that has already been thrown from Amazons to Chamber. But most of all he makes no promises about the future disposition of the Chamber. Before he'd come here, perhaps it had been clear that the Amazons is not in the Chamber's crosshairs. But now that he's here, now that he's met them, now that he's seen Killdare again…well, now he starts to wonder.
Not that they'd know where his mind goes. The boy has many years of diplomacy now, many years spent schooling himself to ensure that his face remains pleasant and reveals nothing. And so it is now as he regards the sisters and his battle-brother. He does not fear them, although he does respect their station. He'd rather not see a war start here and now, over him – and if one does, it will not be by his hand. But if war comes, he has no doubt the outcome.
erebor
heat manipulating lord of the chamber
warship x straia
