"An international incident does sound fun," Viktor muses. For another, it might've been tough to tell whether he was being sarcastic or serious. G'raha, though, likely recognizes this glint of honesty in his demeanor: with Viktor, it's always a bit of both. He drops his voice to a stage whisper, knocking his head toward the city proper, ready to play at breaking the rules. "Then, let's be off, G'raha."
The promise of excitement has its usual invigorating effect. Viktor moves like a spring loosely coiled, his paces half-bounding away from the crowded ferry. One, two, three steps away, he pauses and turns back to make sure his new charge is following. Already, that Warrior of Light persona is giving way, and just Viktor shines through. A wiry man, tall as a palm and dressed, as always, in the vibrant red-and-white colors of a healer, even with that ax strapped to his back.
"The way the sea and the karst meet here..." he inhales, the salt, the sea, the earthy smell of damp rock all rushing to greet him. "It makes Vesper Bay feel always like the start of an adventure."
A scholar might, at this point, have launched into a spiel about the history or architecture of Vesper Bay and Horizon. A better tour guide would've pointed out one of the market stalls or talked up the menu at the Pissed Pieste. Viktor is neither of those things. He fixes his attention on G'raha, and tries not to search his fine features for things he knows aren't there.
G'raha stifles another laugh - this time it's not propiety he cares about but about being too loud and drawing attention - and nods.
"Let's indeed." He agrees, glancing over his shoulder once more to make sure he isn't being watched and then scampering after Viktor - between his quick pace and taller stature, G'raha needs to almost run to keep up, but he's certainly not complaining about it.
He catches up easily enough and grins up at Viktor, already feeling the thrill of being around him, of getting to see the real man behind the legend - he's caught glimpses of it enough back on the First, but that doesn't make him any less addicted to seeing it. He, too, is allowing himself to be a little more himself, instead of the serious Crystal Exarch with the weight of the world upon his shoulders.
"Well, perhaps this is the start of an adventure." He says with a smile, catching himself before he says something obvious about wanting to go on an adventure with him.
Catches himself, too, before he answers Viktor's question with you.
"I've read so many stories, I hardly know where to start," he admits "Where is your favourite place?"
"Would you believe on the back of a chocobo?" Viktor asks, a little too honest. "Where birds aren't allowed, though? Hm. I've got favorite places everywhere, but probably...the Sapphire Avenue Exchange, in Ul'dah. It's a market street. Crowded, noisy. Full of adventurers, but still smells nice." He grins at his own joke. "Like spices. I'll take you there."
He knows he should weave the thread of this conversation into something more useful — talk that might tease out Allag's true agenda, its renewed interest in Eorzea now — but, he doesn't expect it to hurt as much as it does, talking of new adventures with someone.
It feels a bit like pressing a still-purpling bruise, but his smile remains — he's well practiced at that. What he can't help is his mind, drifting again to a crystal statue in silent vigil a world away, to the promise that had died on lips turned to blue stone. Silence slips in, lingering a few beats too long before Viktor catches himself staring again at G'raha's mouth. "Sorry. It's just that--" How stupid. Yes, that'd go over well. There's this fellow I'm still getting over, you see. Centuries old. From another dimension. Fancied him quite a bit, even after he'd turned to stone. And you, strange Prince of a Foreign Nation, sort of remind me of him. This stone man whose real name and face I didn't even know. Viktor slides his palm across his face as a new realization strikes him. "--Matron's teats! I haven't even told you my name. Viktor. It's--you can call me Viktor. Or, Warrior of Light, if you really, really want to stick to a title. But, that's a real mouthful."
Another quiet laugh, more free now he's out from under the watchful eye of his entourage, and a soft smile on his face as he listens to Viktor describe his favourite place.
"It sounds wonderful, I look forward to it."
Eorzea through Viktor's eyes, that's what G'raha wants to see, even if he has to ride the length and breadth of the land on the back of a chocobo to see it. Not that he has anything against chocobos, to be fair.
His gaze strays away from Viktor to look around, only to realise that the silence has stretched on longer than he would have expected, and he glances round to find Viktor's eyes on his lips. Is it a coincidence, to find him staring at the only part of his face he has actually seen before, or is it...
There's something about the way he trails off that has G'raha opening his mouth to speak, to say... what? He still doesn't know how to broach the subject, how to ask the question that's burning on his mind. Before he can manage a sound, however, Viktor is bringing a hand to his face and interrupting with an exclamation that makes G'raha bite his lip to keep from smiling.
"I did already know that," he offers gently - and not just because they've already met, it is actually information he was given before they arrived "but glad am I to have the confirmation that you don't wish me to stand on ceremony. I'd much prefer to call you Viktor."
"I'm glad," Viktor says with no small amount of relief. Friendship is so much better than formality, than awe. Nevermind that on the Allagan prince's tongue, his name sounds like a song he'd almost forgot. He resists the tiny voice in the back of his head urging him to ask G'raha to say his name again. "Better at standing on large monsters than ceremony."
He tips his chin up to take in the scenery he knows so well. To get himself back on track. Viktor strolls toward the square -- the best place to watch merchants and adventurers come and go. Here, sun glints prettily off white and green stone. "I grew up in this area. Back then, it was just the ferry and a whole lot of sand. Couldn't wait to escape."
Beneath the outrageous statue of Lolorito, Viktor stops. Good-natured, he asks, "What about you? Er, what's your home like?" He imagines, briefly, the princeling ruling from some idyllic floating fortress, Azys Lla with better weather and (maybe) fewer shackled dragons. "Were you itching to get away, too?"
"So I have heard." G'raha says with a smile - he's seen it, too, but while he wants to tell Viktor the truth, he also doesn't want to drop it in such a casual way. At least, that's how he justifies the lie to himself, trying to stave off the guilt that lingers beneath the surface.
"Ah, yes, the call of adventure." He observes with a smile, wishing there was a non-weird way to ask more about Viktor's childhood, about his life before the stories. G'raha knows the man better than most who only know him by reputation, but there's still so much more he wants to learn. He might be in awe of the viera's accomplishments, but he likes the man behind them as well.
For a moment, when the question comes, G'raha almost describes the Crystarium - he'd been there so long it felt more home than even Allag, and this journey came so soon after returning that he's barely had time to reaquaint himself with the place he grew up.
"Allag is... beautiful, and bright. I hope perhaps you will have a chance to see it one day." He is proud of his home, even if he's more proud of the Crystarium, and he would like to take Viktor there - though that probably has more to do with how he feels about Viktor than how he feels about Allag.
"I confess, I spent much of my childhood reading stories of heroes and adventure, I always longed for an adventure of my own... unfortunately it is somewhat frowned upon for a prince to take up such a life." Not that it had entirely stopped him, though his time in the First was hardly the same as becoming a wandering adventurer in the manner of the Warrior of Light.
Whether felling primals or ambiguously advocating for abdication on a whim, Viktor has a knack for making the impossible sound far too easy. He'd been that way on the First, too. So certain, in the face of so much tragedy, that there was always a path forward to be found. This time, at least, he seems to realize that what he's suggesting is rather impossible.
"We'll get you at least most of an adventure here in Eorzea," he says lightly, a little teasing.
He couldn't keep his promise to the Exarch, but perhaps it is a gift he can offer to someone else. Someone who, it seems, is similarly bound by obligation. Viktor tells himself that's it, and not that the prince reminds him so much of the man he'd lost -- the one he hadn't even really had to begin with.
He was supposed to exercise caution. To keep his guard up and not stumble so quickly into that puppy dog friendship he always tends toward. "And you'll show me an adventure in Allag, down the road?"
"I'll hold you to that." G'raha tells him, he keeps his tone light, going along with the joke, but he wishes he really could. It's entirely possible, probable even, that something will happen during their tour of Eorzea and he'll get a glimpse of the adventurous life that Viktor leads, but he also knows that the entourage travelling with them - however pared down he managed to get it - are going to be doing their best to make sure that G'raha stays out of anything even remotely interesting.
Unfortunately, 'but he promised me an adventure while I was off helping to prevent an Umbral Calamity' doesn't really cut it for people like that. The only reason he'd been allowed to enact his plan to travel to the First at all had been because if anything happened to him he would have been sent right back to himself in the Source, none the worse for wear, and even then it had taken some serious arguing about how the best chance for the First was the power of the crystal tower, power that he was the best person to wield.
The kind of coddling he's likely to be subjected to is also the reason that Viktor's question earns a faint huff of laughter and a rueful smile.
"I'm afraid I can't promise you adventure, in Allag there are even more people on hand to make sure their prince doesn't get up to any mischief. Perhaps that would be good for you, though, a chance to actually rest."
Even if G'raha only knew of Viktor from the stories he'd heard, it's plain the man barely takes a moment to himself, and that had become incredibly obvious in the First. He lost track of the number of times he had to insist on Viktor taking a break.
Viktor reads the regret in G'raha's eyes and tries not to let it reflect in his own expression. You'd think by now he would remember that heads of state and their ilk all carry the sort of burdens antithetical to the lives of adventurers. It makes him itch, thinking of all the allies and friends, duty bound to lonely offices and great half-empty halls. How often do his doggish invitations to freedom cause pain and worry, instead of joy? His gaze dips, taking in the marble tiles beneath their feet.
A chance to actually rest. Hadn't the Exarch always urged the same? It's just coincidence, he tells himself, as that itching feeling grows into a more pressing urge to move his body.
He stretches his arms up and over the back of his head. When the knot in his back doesn't immediately work itself out, he slings his greataxe across his shoulders, then drapes his arms over the hilt. It makes him look like he's been yoked, a beast who would never stop moving if not pulled to heel -- but at least his shoulder finally pops.
"Rest?" he asks, still grinning, one eye squinting shut. "Never heard of it." There is never enough time, but maybe he can scrounge a few seconds to follow a friend's advice. "You'll have to show me."
G'raha shakes his head in fond amusement, though he hopes the 'fond' part is slightly less obvious.
"I'm sure I-" He begins, but he's cut off by a shout from nearby.
"Your highness, there you are!" A grey-haired elezen hurries towards them with a look that's somewhere between relief and disapproval "Please don't disappear like that on your own."
"I wasn't on my own," G'raha says mildly, turning to the man with his face a picture of innocence "I was accompanied by Viktor. Surely you don't expect any ill to befall me with the Warrior of Light at my side?"
The man frowns, but he doesn't have a rebuttal - G'raha knows he's the diplomatic type, he won't want to risk insulting the Warrior of Light so early in the journey.
He'll probably get an earful for it later, though.
"Allow me make introductions," G'raha continues smoothly "Viktor this is Elmort, one of my family's advisors, he will be one of the people joining us on our journey." The unfortunately goes unspoken, but it's in the hint of a mischievous smile that G'raha gives Viktor as he turns to him.
"Elmort this is Viktor, the Warrior of Light."
"A pleasure to meet you." Elmort says with a bow, impeccably polite "I came to inform you both that we are ready to depart, it is my understanding that the whole group will be travelling to Ul'dah, then after we meet the Sultana tomorrow those of us travelling with his highness will be continuing onwards. Does this match your expectations?" He asks Viktor
Viktor's attention lingers a few seconds longer on G'raha and that smile, but he still manages to deliver a crisp nod, as though Elmort had always had his undivided attention. As though he'd kept track of the itinerary at all. But that all sounds right. So, he drops his ax to his side, a soldier standing at attention, and adds an authoritative, "Aye."
(In Viktor's experience, gray-haired politicians rarely like to hear the words, "I don't know, sir, I just work here." No matter how adept you are at your job.)
Usually, at this point, Alphinaud would be leaping in to bridge the gap left by the Warrior of Light's predictable bout of sudden onset silence. With the twins engaged elsewhere, though, Viktor is left to try and conjure up something the boy would say on his own.
"Glad to meet you, Elmort." The name sits somewhat sour on his tongue; not wholly unpleasant, just sharp. He stammers through the next bit, dreadfully aware that he'd just been flirting when he should've been preparing for a serious, potentially dangerous diplomatic excursion. "And for the opportunity to...show your prince our home. If there's anything I can do to make our journey and easier one, say the word."
He glances skyward, makes a few quick calculations and adds, "Should make the city before sunset. It's not a long trek. Safe enough, so long as you keep to the roads. I'll stay at the head." Viktor looks to G'raha. There's a smile in his eyes, despite his attempt at looking serious. "You'll join me there, highness?"
"Absolutely." G'raha agrees before Elmort has a chance to object.
He feels a little sorry for Viktor in that moment, in truth, being thrust into the diplomatic role that doesn't entirely suit him. He had hoped to see Alphinaud or any of the other scions, but he's also not surprised to see them absent - no doubt they have more important business to attend to than playing escort to an Allagan prince.
(Viktor no doubt has more important business to attend to, but though G'raha feels a little guilty to have pulled him away from whatever crisis would otherwise be demanding his attention, he's also glad enough to be spending time with him that he can't bring himself to be too regretful)
He does want to ask about the others, but again that would be a poor way of confessing the truth to Viktor. He'll have to wait for another chance for them to talk more privately, this time he'll come clean, he really will.
"The others are assembled at the gate," Elmort reports, his jaw set "shall we?"
"As you say, sir." There is little to do now but extend an arm, giving both prince and advisor the right of way. Viktor slings his ax back across his back and follows close behind G'raha and his retainer.
With everyone's attention momentarily elsewhere, he does his due diligence, measuring the size of the Allagan delegation, judging whether they have the space on their persons or in their wagons to store weapons -- not that such a guess matters all that much when you're observing a civilization that once ruled the skies, made clones, and defied death.
He decides, thanks mostly to the complete silence of his Echo, that this whole business is politician-level dangerous. Not my circus, not my monkeys trouble. The sort of thing that the Syndicate breaks their fast on.
So, it's just as the prince said: his safety is the only thing Viktor need concern himself with. He prays he can keep his own head on straight long enough to see this mission through. But, by the Twelve is the prince distracting.
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Date: 2024-03-12 09:53 pm (UTC)The promise of excitement has its usual invigorating effect. Viktor moves like a spring loosely coiled, his paces half-bounding away from the crowded ferry. One, two, three steps away, he pauses and turns back to make sure his new charge is following. Already, that Warrior of Light persona is giving way, and just Viktor shines through. A wiry man, tall as a palm and dressed, as always, in the vibrant red-and-white colors of a healer, even with that ax strapped to his back.
"The way the sea and the karst meet here..." he inhales, the salt, the sea, the earthy smell of damp rock all rushing to greet him. "It makes Vesper Bay feel always like the start of an adventure."
A scholar might, at this point, have launched into a spiel about the history or architecture of Vesper Bay and Horizon. A better tour guide would've pointed out one of the market stalls or talked up the menu at the Pissed Pieste. Viktor is neither of those things. He fixes his attention on G'raha, and tries not to search his fine features for things he knows aren't there.
"What are you most looking forward to seeing?"
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Date: 2024-03-12 10:05 pm (UTC)G'raha stifles another laugh - this time it's not propiety he cares about but about being too loud and drawing attention - and nods.
"Let's indeed." He agrees, glancing over his shoulder once more to make sure he isn't being watched and then scampering after Viktor - between his quick pace and taller stature, G'raha needs to almost run to keep up, but he's certainly not complaining about it.
He catches up easily enough and grins up at Viktor, already feeling the thrill of being around him, of getting to see the real man behind the legend - he's caught glimpses of it enough back on the First, but that doesn't make him any less addicted to seeing it. He, too, is allowing himself to be a little more himself, instead of the serious Crystal Exarch with the weight of the world upon his shoulders.
"Well, perhaps this is the start of an adventure." He says with a smile, catching himself before he says something obvious about wanting to go on an adventure with him.
Catches himself, too, before he answers Viktor's question with you.
"I've read so many stories, I hardly know where to start," he admits "Where is your favourite place?"
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Date: 2024-03-12 11:37 pm (UTC)He knows he should weave the thread of this conversation into something more useful — talk that might tease out Allag's true agenda, its renewed interest in Eorzea now — but, he doesn't expect it to hurt as much as it does, talking of new adventures with someone.
It feels a bit like pressing a still-purpling bruise, but his smile remains — he's well practiced at that. What he can't help is his mind, drifting again to a crystal statue in silent vigil a world away, to the promise that had died on lips turned to blue stone. Silence slips in, lingering a few beats too long before Viktor catches himself staring again at G'raha's mouth. "Sorry. It's just that--" How stupid. Yes, that'd go over well. There's this fellow I'm still getting over, you see. Centuries old. From another dimension. Fancied him quite a bit, even after he'd turned to stone. And you, strange Prince of a Foreign Nation, sort of remind me of him. This stone man whose real name and face I didn't even know. Viktor slides his palm across his face as a new realization strikes him. "--Matron's teats! I haven't even told you my name. Viktor. It's--you can call me Viktor. Or, Warrior of Light, if you really, really want to stick to a title. But, that's a real mouthful."
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Date: 2024-03-13 12:27 am (UTC)Another quiet laugh, more free now he's out from under the watchful eye of his entourage, and a soft smile on his face as he listens to Viktor describe his favourite place.
"It sounds wonderful, I look forward to it."
Eorzea through Viktor's eyes, that's what G'raha wants to see, even if he has to ride the length and breadth of the land on the back of a chocobo to see it. Not that he has anything against chocobos, to be fair.
His gaze strays away from Viktor to look around, only to realise that the silence has stretched on longer than he would have expected, and he glances round to find Viktor's eyes on his lips. Is it a coincidence, to find him staring at the only part of his face he has actually seen before, or is it...
There's something about the way he trails off that has G'raha opening his mouth to speak, to say... what? He still doesn't know how to broach the subject, how to ask the question that's burning on his mind. Before he can manage a sound, however, Viktor is bringing a hand to his face and interrupting with an exclamation that makes G'raha bite his lip to keep from smiling.
"I did already know that," he offers gently - and not just because they've already met, it is actually information he was given before they arrived "but glad am I to have the confirmation that you don't wish me to stand on ceremony. I'd much prefer to call you Viktor."
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Date: 2024-03-13 02:18 am (UTC)He tips his chin up to take in the scenery he knows so well. To get himself back on track. Viktor strolls toward the square -- the best place to watch merchants and adventurers come and go. Here, sun glints prettily off white and green stone. "I grew up in this area. Back then, it was just the ferry and a whole lot of sand. Couldn't wait to escape."
Beneath the outrageous statue of Lolorito, Viktor stops. Good-natured, he asks, "What about you? Er, what's your home like?" He imagines, briefly, the princeling ruling from some idyllic floating fortress, Azys Lla with better weather and (maybe) fewer shackled dragons. "Were you itching to get away, too?"
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Date: 2024-03-13 11:47 am (UTC)"So I have heard." G'raha says with a smile - he's seen it, too, but while he wants to tell Viktor the truth, he also doesn't want to drop it in such a casual way. At least, that's how he justifies the lie to himself, trying to stave off the guilt that lingers beneath the surface.
"Ah, yes, the call of adventure." He observes with a smile, wishing there was a non-weird way to ask more about Viktor's childhood, about his life before the stories. G'raha knows the man better than most who only know him by reputation, but there's still so much more he wants to learn. He might be in awe of the viera's accomplishments, but he likes the man behind them as well.
For a moment, when the question comes, G'raha almost describes the Crystarium - he'd been there so long it felt more home than even Allag, and this journey came so soon after returning that he's barely had time to reaquaint himself with the place he grew up.
"Allag is... beautiful, and bright. I hope perhaps you will have a chance to see it one day." He is proud of his home, even if he's more proud of the Crystarium, and he would like to take Viktor there - though that probably has more to do with how he feels about Viktor than how he feels about Allag.
"I confess, I spent much of my childhood reading stories of heroes and adventure, I always longed for an adventure of my own... unfortunately it is somewhat frowned upon for a prince to take up such a life." Not that it had entirely stopped him, though his time in the First was hardly the same as becoming a wandering adventurer in the manner of the Warrior of Light.
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Date: 2024-03-13 04:18 pm (UTC)Whether felling primals or ambiguously advocating for abdication on a whim, Viktor has a knack for making the impossible sound far too easy. He'd been that way on the First, too. So certain, in the face of so much tragedy, that there was always a path forward to be found. This time, at least, he seems to realize that what he's suggesting is rather impossible.
"We'll get you at least most of an adventure here in Eorzea," he says lightly, a little teasing.
He couldn't keep his promise to the Exarch, but perhaps it is a gift he can offer to someone else. Someone who, it seems, is similarly bound by obligation. Viktor tells himself that's it, and not that the prince reminds him so much of the man he'd lost -- the one he hadn't even really had to begin with.
He was supposed to exercise caution. To keep his guard up and not stumble so quickly into that puppy dog friendship he always tends toward. "And you'll show me an adventure in Allag, down the road?"
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Date: 2024-03-13 04:33 pm (UTC)"I'll hold you to that." G'raha tells him, he keeps his tone light, going along with the joke, but he wishes he really could. It's entirely possible, probable even, that something will happen during their tour of Eorzea and he'll get a glimpse of the adventurous life that Viktor leads, but he also knows that the entourage travelling with them - however pared down he managed to get it - are going to be doing their best to make sure that G'raha stays out of anything even remotely interesting.
Unfortunately, 'but he promised me an adventure while I was off helping to prevent an Umbral Calamity' doesn't really cut it for people like that. The only reason he'd been allowed to enact his plan to travel to the First at all had been because if anything happened to him he would have been sent right back to himself in the Source, none the worse for wear, and even then it had taken some serious arguing about how the best chance for the First was the power of the crystal tower, power that he was the best person to wield.
The kind of coddling he's likely to be subjected to is also the reason that Viktor's question earns a faint huff of laughter and a rueful smile.
"I'm afraid I can't promise you adventure, in Allag there are even more people on hand to make sure their prince doesn't get up to any mischief. Perhaps that would be good for you, though, a chance to actually rest."
Even if G'raha only knew of Viktor from the stories he'd heard, it's plain the man barely takes a moment to himself, and that had become incredibly obvious in the First. He lost track of the number of times he had to insist on Viktor taking a break.
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Date: 2024-03-13 08:04 pm (UTC)A chance to actually rest. Hadn't the Exarch always urged the same? It's just coincidence, he tells himself, as that itching feeling grows into a more pressing urge to move his body.
He stretches his arms up and over the back of his head. When the knot in his back doesn't immediately work itself out, he slings his greataxe across his shoulders, then drapes his arms over the hilt. It makes him look like he's been yoked, a beast who would never stop moving if not pulled to heel -- but at least his shoulder finally pops.
"Rest?" he asks, still grinning, one eye squinting shut. "Never heard of it." There is never enough time, but maybe he can scrounge a few seconds to follow a friend's advice. "You'll have to show me."
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Date: 2024-03-13 08:25 pm (UTC)G'raha shakes his head in fond amusement, though he hopes the 'fond' part is slightly less obvious.
"I'm sure I-" He begins, but he's cut off by a shout from nearby.
"Your highness, there you are!" A grey-haired elezen hurries towards them with a look that's somewhere between relief and disapproval "Please don't disappear like that on your own."
"I wasn't on my own," G'raha says mildly, turning to the man with his face a picture of innocence "I was accompanied by Viktor. Surely you don't expect any ill to befall me with the Warrior of Light at my side?"
The man frowns, but he doesn't have a rebuttal - G'raha knows he's the diplomatic type, he won't want to risk insulting the Warrior of Light so early in the journey.
He'll probably get an earful for it later, though.
"Allow me make introductions," G'raha continues smoothly "Viktor this is Elmort, one of my family's advisors, he will be one of the people joining us on our journey." The unfortunately goes unspoken, but it's in the hint of a mischievous smile that G'raha gives Viktor as he turns to him.
"Elmort this is Viktor, the Warrior of Light."
"A pleasure to meet you." Elmort says with a bow, impeccably polite "I came to inform you both that we are ready to depart, it is my understanding that the whole group will be travelling to Ul'dah, then after we meet the Sultana tomorrow those of us travelling with his highness will be continuing onwards. Does this match your expectations?" He asks Viktor
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Date: 2024-03-13 09:59 pm (UTC)(In Viktor's experience, gray-haired politicians rarely like to hear the words, "I don't know, sir, I just work here." No matter how adept you are at your job.)
Usually, at this point, Alphinaud would be leaping in to bridge the gap left by the Warrior of Light's predictable bout of sudden onset silence. With the twins engaged elsewhere, though, Viktor is left to try and conjure up something the boy would say on his own.
"Glad to meet you, Elmort." The name sits somewhat sour on his tongue; not wholly unpleasant, just sharp. He stammers through the next bit, dreadfully aware that he'd just been flirting when he should've been preparing for a serious, potentially dangerous diplomatic excursion. "And for the opportunity to...show your prince our home. If there's anything I can do to make our journey and easier one, say the word."
He glances skyward, makes a few quick calculations and adds, "Should make the city before sunset. It's not a long trek. Safe enough, so long as you keep to the roads. I'll stay at the head." Viktor looks to G'raha. There's a smile in his eyes, despite his attempt at looking serious. "You'll join me there, highness?"
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Date: 2024-03-13 10:07 pm (UTC)"Absolutely." G'raha agrees before Elmort has a chance to object.
He feels a little sorry for Viktor in that moment, in truth, being thrust into the diplomatic role that doesn't entirely suit him. He had hoped to see Alphinaud or any of the other scions, but he's also not surprised to see them absent - no doubt they have more important business to attend to than playing escort to an Allagan prince.
(Viktor no doubt has more important business to attend to, but though G'raha feels a little guilty to have pulled him away from whatever crisis would otherwise be demanding his attention, he's also glad enough to be spending time with him that he can't bring himself to be too regretful)
He does want to ask about the others, but again that would be a poor way of confessing the truth to Viktor. He'll have to wait for another chance for them to talk more privately, this time he'll come clean, he really will.
"The others are assembled at the gate," Elmort reports, his jaw set "shall we?"
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Date: 2024-03-14 04:59 am (UTC)With everyone's attention momentarily elsewhere, he does his due diligence, measuring the size of the Allagan delegation, judging whether they have the space on their persons or in their wagons to store weapons -- not that such a guess matters all that much when you're observing a civilization that once ruled the skies, made clones, and defied death.
He decides, thanks mostly to the complete silence of his Echo, that this whole business is politician-level dangerous. Not my circus, not my monkeys trouble. The sort of thing that the Syndicate breaks their fast on.
So, it's just as the prince said: his safety is the only thing Viktor need concern himself with. He prays he can keep his own head on straight long enough to see this mission through. But, by the Twelve is the prince distracting.