[ Diarmuid watches patiently as Waver trails off once, twice, then settles on a simple statement of gratitude. the process aligns so neatly with what little he knows of Rider's Master that he feels his expression threaten to soften around his seams.
for all of Kayneth's animosity, for all the threats of slow and torturous violence against the reckless student that wronged him, Diarmuid had found the boy and his rounded shoulders brave; a lionheart buried under uncertainty, fearful of his mortality but with his feet planted on the battlefield.
the knight breathes through his nose. the sound skims— a near-laugh. ]
Spare your thanks. I'd take no pleasure in watching you fall on your face.
[ there it is, that slightly-cheeky 'Lancer' from the first real fight of their War. the light jab comes and goes, replaced by genuine concern. ]
—You're swaying on your feet. [ a glance towards Waver's glass. ]
no subject
for all of Kayneth's animosity, for all the threats of slow and torturous violence against the reckless student that wronged him, Diarmuid had found the boy and his rounded shoulders brave; a lionheart buried under uncertainty, fearful of his mortality but with his feet planted on the battlefield.
the knight breathes through his nose. the sound skims— a near-laugh. ]
Spare your thanks. I'd take no pleasure in watching you fall on your face.
[ there it is, that slightly-cheeky 'Lancer' from the first real fight of their War. the light jab comes and goes, replaced by genuine concern. ]
—You're swaying on your feet. [ a glance towards Waver's glass. ]