eiattu_pride | (no subject)

(no subject)

Rial's been waiting ever since the call from Hilunda came in. Waiting, chewing nervously on his fingernails, wishing and hoping and praying that somehow this is all some big mistake, a nightmare, a hoax.

Inside, he knows that it's not true.

But oh, oh how he wishes it was.

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Gror won't say it, either. He's certainly thinking it, but he won't say it. "Use that," he says, with all the wisdom of years in the ruling class on a planet where kidnapping is a common (capital) crime. "Demand to see evidence that she is alright. Buy yourself some time."

Rial glances up, already running that through his mind, yes, it would buy them time...and it would show him if she was still alive.

"I will. And if she's," and oh he doesn't want to say it, doesn't want to think it, can't say it, "if she's," and then his voice fails him and he looks back at the floor.

Gror Pernon has never been a touchy feely man, nor a touchy feely father. But he reaches out all the same and rests a hand--stronger than it looks--on Rial's shoulder. "You can't possibly know," he says, "but you have two things going for you. One, they're a band of idiots, but they are not idiotic enough to do away with their only bargaining chip. They're desperate, and she is all they have. And two--" He smiles, then, faint as it is. "It would take a Sith of a lot to bring down that princess of yours."

The smile is gone fast to be replaced by steely, steady calm. "Whatever you choose to do, I will be here. Do what you need to do, Rial."

"Yes," says Rial, and he remembers the way Plourr fights, remember how she looks with blood dripping from her knuckles and he smiles, "yes, it would."

And then he glances sideways, and nods, tone formal. "I understand, sir."

A beat, and, "Father?"

Gror folds his arms again, glancing up, listening. "Yes?"

"Thank you."

Rial bows, then turns, already moving to leave the room.

He's got work to do.

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