Oh, [i]very[/i] mature, Zeus. Flee while she has you on the rhetorical ropes, and block off her pursuit with...with...oh gods, how long has she been glaring at thin air? Hestia hadn’t left already, had she? Thank goodness, still talking. Nod, Vasilia, nod thoughtfully, the most thoughtful nodding you’ve ever nodded in your entire life, while you try to remember everything she’s just said while you were definitely listening.

“For the record.” Slowly, yes, speak slowly and deliberately. Every second is precious. “This is just a hypothetical exercise. I’ve no intention of losing or forfeiting my command. But since you asked…” And of course she would consider it fairly, because you asked, because she is a good host, and you should definitely stay, yes? “My personal effects are somewhat limited; if I could return to the Starsong, I have some furnishings that may fetch a worthwhile price. But the return would be, ah.” 

[i]“No.”

“Please, at least let me ask the question first.”

“It wouldn’t change my answer.”

“Is there anything I could say that would change it?”

“Again: No.”

“Is it because there’s nothing to be said, or nothing [b]I[/b] can say?”

“It’s because the last time you uprooted your life, you took mine along with it, and while the change was a good one, I can’t let you roll the dice for me every time you get antsy.”

“Ah. I...I see.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I just...I can’t. Not again.”

“You’ve nothing to apologize for, Alethea darling. Gods only know how much of me you’ve put up with already. We’ll manage alright on our own, Dolce and I.”[/i]

“...awkward. And not likely to produce many recommendations either.” No matter how she rested her hands, she never quite grew unaware of them. Fingers interlaced with fingers. No place for them to lie, and be still. “There may be some individuals here and there that could vouch for me, but only if I wished to stay landlocked for the rest of my days.” Translation: Stuck on a backwater planet that was only barely learning how to spell Civilization. “Apart from starfaring, I’m skilled at stagecraft, speechcraft, and combat, but I don’t think you or I are about the celebrity life.” 

She risked a laugh. A gamble, but a well-calculated one. Goddess who went about in fluffy bear hoodies and mugs of hot cocoa were almost certainly easygoing enough to appreciate a little humor.

[i]Almost[/i] certainly. The risk was worth the reward.

********************************************

A good servant follows orders.

The moment she pushed away from his wool, she would neither feel nor hear Dolce again.

[i]The Auspex finds him out immediately. It sees the way the air swirls in his absence. The motes of dust, dancing in his wake. He will never be able to vanish around her.[/i]

The next sign of his presence was the warm, comforting aroma of a freshly-made bowl of soup.
    
[i]Is she at all hungry? Does she even want to eat? Can she?[/i]

Her teacup would never be empty.
    
[i]Because she isn’t drinking anything. No matter what blend he brings for her.[/i]

She would have blankets to rest on, handkerchiefs to wipe her eyes.
    
[i]As if she could risk falling asleep. As if she is a child, unable to tend to her own tears.[/i]

He would appear whenever called, whenever she needed to talk through a problem.

[i]He will be no help. He had his chances.[/i]

Dolce followed his orders. Like a good servant.

[i]And left her worse than he’d found her.[/i]