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Observer [Fic]
Sep. 30th, 2013 09:57 pmElenore smiles through the introductions to men with faces like granite and the few exceptions with soft peaceful expressions that can only belong to men who've gotten past any form of conscience so they regret nothing and walk with ease. After the attack, after her moments of weakness, she expected to be afraid on some level. There is no fear, only the comfort of doing what she has always chosen for herself. Walking the line between safety and danger, surrounded by deadly things. Even the language barrier is a reminder that she might just be human, but so is everyone else in the room.
The period where they speak English is short. Her presence will only be important for a short period in the meeting, once to introduce her and later when they discuss how they want to use her talents. Considering that the meeting is in one of their conceit of a library, she makes due by giving them false space and browsing, but in truth she's listening to them. Tone and conversational dominance will tell her what she needs to know, even if she isn't fluent.
Tone and body language from the corner of her eye tells her the target. Starts to tell her the scapegoat until one of the men breaks off and heads towards her. He's older than she would have guessed. Normally the young ones are sent to test her. Distinguished as much as a man with his scars and his ink can manage, which is an impressive amount all considered. He glances at the cover and asks a quick question in Russian. When she looks at him quizzically, he slips into stilted English. "You read Latin?"
She nods, hiding her frustration at not being able to watch and listen as carefully as she'd like. Truthfully she had simply gone for a book that appeared in a language she recognized. Glancing down labeled it a tragedy.
He smiles and slips his arm into hers, "Then I must show you my treasure."
A quick glance tells her she's missing even more of the conversation and the charge, but there's no polite way to turn down this man. Nothing that wouldn't damage what they were trying to do. "If you're sure you aren't needed here..."
"They can do without an old man," he continues in slow English, pulling her into the hallway of a home too beautiful not to be a huge symbol of power in a country where need is always close by.
It takes her until they've gone halfway down the hall for her to realize this was deliberate. That she was watching the wrong group, and there's a damned good reason she was never a spy. Separated and vulnerable, there's no one there to chaperone with a man she was beginning to suspect was more than he appeared. But when he turns a corner, there's another library. This one with one giant book under glass. She relaxes only slightly but walks to it. The text is open to a page on Alexander of Macedonia in clear church Latin. She looks up with a wary gaze.
"It seemed appropriate," he says, slipping out of awkward pronunciation into a degree of fluency that speaks of much practice, "Given that your own Alexander would be a conqueror."
Her face goes still, trying to prevent any emotional display in response to that. "It's a beautiful tome. The preservation is remarkable."
"Not going to deny the description? Well, that would probably be for the best. I wouldn't believe you, and it is only with honesty that you will return to your States alive and whole."
Elenore looks at him, and the house that must be his. "Well, then you'd better start by telling me what you want."
The period where they speak English is short. Her presence will only be important for a short period in the meeting, once to introduce her and later when they discuss how they want to use her talents. Considering that the meeting is in one of their conceit of a library, she makes due by giving them false space and browsing, but in truth she's listening to them. Tone and conversational dominance will tell her what she needs to know, even if she isn't fluent.
Tone and body language from the corner of her eye tells her the target. Starts to tell her the scapegoat until one of the men breaks off and heads towards her. He's older than she would have guessed. Normally the young ones are sent to test her. Distinguished as much as a man with his scars and his ink can manage, which is an impressive amount all considered. He glances at the cover and asks a quick question in Russian. When she looks at him quizzically, he slips into stilted English. "You read Latin?"
She nods, hiding her frustration at not being able to watch and listen as carefully as she'd like. Truthfully she had simply gone for a book that appeared in a language she recognized. Glancing down labeled it a tragedy.
He smiles and slips his arm into hers, "Then I must show you my treasure."
A quick glance tells her she's missing even more of the conversation and the charge, but there's no polite way to turn down this man. Nothing that wouldn't damage what they were trying to do. "If you're sure you aren't needed here..."
"They can do without an old man," he continues in slow English, pulling her into the hallway of a home too beautiful not to be a huge symbol of power in a country where need is always close by.
It takes her until they've gone halfway down the hall for her to realize this was deliberate. That she was watching the wrong group, and there's a damned good reason she was never a spy. Separated and vulnerable, there's no one there to chaperone with a man she was beginning to suspect was more than he appeared. But when he turns a corner, there's another library. This one with one giant book under glass. She relaxes only slightly but walks to it. The text is open to a page on Alexander of Macedonia in clear church Latin. She looks up with a wary gaze.
"It seemed appropriate," he says, slipping out of awkward pronunciation into a degree of fluency that speaks of much practice, "Given that your own Alexander would be a conqueror."
Her face goes still, trying to prevent any emotional display in response to that. "It's a beautiful tome. The preservation is remarkable."
"Not going to deny the description? Well, that would probably be for the best. I wouldn't believe you, and it is only with honesty that you will return to your States alive and whole."
Elenore looks at him, and the house that must be his. "Well, then you'd better start by telling me what you want."
