A Last Resort

Jinquil: A Last Resort
Sat Jun 2 23:25:23 2007
To: Shalonesti_kingdom Shalonesti Imm RP ( Nianica Llorana Azaros Evandim )
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Emerald light reflects through the clear crystal of the wine glass she holds tightly between her fingers. The light dances across her face, to catch with an occasional glint in the emeralds that accent the gathered strands of her dark hair. Jinquil tilts her head, for all intents and purposes appearing oblivious to the sheer stress that flows through the room. Her eyes scan the silver twine of the fork near her plate with some interest. The fingers of her free hand toy with the golden lace that accents the waist of the silk pants that loosely cover her long legs, drifting to straighten the equally golden sleeve of her blouse. She perches stiffly on the edge of her chair, directly next to her mother. The closeness fills her with a wary apprehension, though her mother seems currently occupied in a battle of wills with her sister.

She casts a soft frown at Nianica, mentally making note that she owes her sister for choosing the seating arrangements that left her so close to her mother's possible assault. Though not afraid of the largest axe wielding dwarf, she had no wish to face her mother's wrath or her knitting needle anytime in the recent future. A soft smirk plays upon her lips, her fingers itch to draw Llorana, sitting there so uncomfortable in that contraption everyone calls a gown. The forest green thing is low cut, form-fitting and someone even had the gall to embroider it with golden flowers. Her eyes meet Llorana's and she smiles sympathetically before letting her gaze drift away.

Jinquil snorts, the rigid set of her spine the only outward sign that she's aware of the conversation between her sister and her mother. She casts occasional glances across the table to Azaros, to it's head at her father who studies her in return, his brow arching as he flicks a gaze to Azaros and back to her curiously. He remains silent, letting the conversation between mother and daughter play out without interference. Obviously knowing when to keep his silence.

"No. " The crisp word draws Jinquil's eyes sharply to her mother's face. "I raised daughters who wish to throw their futures away to bloodshed and death. "

The stem of glass snaps between her fingers, spilling wine that spreads in a crimson stain as it seeps into the fine linen covering the long table. A sliver of glass pierces the tip of her finger and she drops the shattered remnants onto a nearby plate, bringing her offended digit to her lips with alight hiss of air.

Jinquil sinks back in her chair as Llorana leans forward on the table, her eyes intent on their mother's face. "This is our last chance mother. There may not ever be time for another. Is this truly how you want us to leave this home? With your bitterness ringing in our ears as we battle for Shalonesti and everything it stands for? "

"No.. " The subdued whisper draws Jinquil's gaze from Llorana's face to her mother's. Her mother's eyes meet hers and Jinquil blinks in surprise at the tears.. Real and actual.. Tears that fill their dark depths. She opens her mouth to speak, though no words form.

Her father reaches out, his hand covers his's wife's own on the table, stilling her with a touch and speaks consolingly, "Dear... Do not forget we've also raised three beautiful, brave daughters who are paragons of what is elven. " He smiles reassuringly, "Remember, their love for us and Shalonesti is reason enough for them to take up and defend those whom they love. If we've to choose which elves represent the best of Shalonesti, I can think of no better choices than our daughters. "

He turns to his daughters, eyes touching each of their faces in turn, remembering the children each had once presented in a way only a father could. He casts a disarming smile. "Is it true you all lead a batallion or unit? "
All three daughters nod, relaxing only a small degree with the question. Jinquil's father sighs faintly, turning his assessing gaze to Azaros. "And which battalion do you lead? "