She is sulky. She's sulking and it's ridiculous and this knowledge only further impresses itself upon her mood, because who the hell sulks because their captor and enemy didn't come to gloat over them whilst their held prisoner in a cage? This is how she has berated herself for a good number of the long, aching hours she'd been left alone, and it has done nothing to improve her disposition.
Except that Lenore goes and says something so unexpected, so outlandish, that she finds herself freezing part way between bars and mouth with her food. It feels a bit like being sucker punched, or perhaps like being hit in the face with the pommel of a sword. Cleverness isn't something she's ever considered to be among her positive attributes, but hearing someone say sorry they didn't value you leaves her feeling raw and flayed open in a way that even the compliments can't touch. How many times as a child had she fervently wished someone would just say, hey Gideon, I'm sorry everyone treats you like shit, you haven't done anything to deserve this? It makes it hard to speak for just a moment, which embarrasses her terribly. It makes her want to lean into the press of Lenore's hand against her arm and stay there.
It takes her a moment to swallow the lump in her throat. To draw in a steadying breath.
"It's...it's just hella boring in here. Yeah, yeah, I know. I killed a bunch of your soldiers and threatened to dismember you a little bit. But I was kiiiinda having a bad day," when uncertain, fall back on bravado. Bravado with slim threads of truth running through it, almost wanting to be unpicked.
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Except that Lenore goes and says something so unexpected, so outlandish, that she finds herself freezing part way between bars and mouth with her food. It feels a bit like being sucker punched, or perhaps like being hit in the face with the pommel of a sword. Cleverness isn't something she's ever considered to be among her positive attributes, but hearing someone say sorry they didn't value you leaves her feeling raw and flayed open in a way that even the compliments can't touch. How many times as a child had she fervently wished someone would just say, hey Gideon, I'm sorry everyone treats you like shit, you haven't done anything to deserve this? It makes it hard to speak for just a moment, which embarrasses her terribly. It makes her want to lean into the press of Lenore's hand against her arm and stay there.
It takes her a moment to swallow the lump in her throat. To draw in a steadying breath.
"It's...it's just hella boring in here. Yeah, yeah, I know. I killed a bunch of your soldiers and threatened to dismember you a little bit. But I was kiiiinda having a bad day," when uncertain, fall back on bravado. Bravado with slim threads of truth running through it, almost wanting to be unpicked.