ic inbox ( ǣfenglōm )

[digiorno]

"buongiorno! sorry i missed you; i'll happily get back to you as soon as i'm done with whatever business i'm on. leave a message!" ⯈ text ⯈ voice ⯈ video ⯈ action

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[noblabbermouths]

[The reasoning, in theory, becomes evident a moment later when the man reaches the throne: he bends the knee, his form so proper as to imply he knows precisely what such an action means. And the curve of his lips never leaves his face.

To her credit, though she does not wear her disdain as openly as her young charge, the woman at Zelda's back does not seem to have relaxed in the slightest between speaking with Giorno and Ganondorf's entrance. Her hand remains upon the princess' shoulder, her fingers firmly pressed into the fabric of her gown. Piercing red eyes remain locked upon Ganondorf's kneeling form, and the muscles of her jaw flex with increasing tension. Neither of them appear like they want to be here, but duty demands restraint.

The king, in contrast, maintains his stoic facade, neither seeming overjoyed nor incensed by the Gerudo prince's presence. He stands after the prince kneels, arms opened to invite all in attendance to hear him. But this is a dream, and Zelda's attention was clearly captured elsewhere when this event occurred, and so when he speaks, Giorno does not so much hear words as he finds a collection of ideas entering his mind.

A long, arduous civil war, one lasting decades, if not longer. Trading assaults on towns and settlements, and terrible casualties mounting upon both sides. A ceasefire a few years ago that evolved into legitimate peace talks. And now, the hope of bridging the distance between their peoples, and building a stronger country for a future generation who will never know war.

Ganondorf nods along and doesn't interrupt, and Zelda's anger, by necessity, subsides back into that more childish pout of displeasure. It is, after all, very hard to maintain righteous indignation when your father is droning on about what seems like ancient history to you, and you are also ten years old.

Her eyes move to Giorno at some point during this, the question found in her wary curiosity resonating through his mind just the same as the king's speech.

Can I trust you?]

[digiorno]

[That does provide a good deal of clarity, actually, not just about the immediate situation. After all, Zelda has always been vigilant. Growing up in constant war likely isn’t the only reason for such an attitude, but it makes a lot of sense as a contributing factor. A future generation that doesn’t know war sounds very nice, but Zelda isn’t part of that generation, unfortunately.]

[It makes sense, too, why Zelda hates this man Ganondorf so much. Whether he’s here for peace treaties or not, he’s responsible for a great deal of bloodshed that has overtaken Zelda’s entire life thus far. That, and . . . something else. It’s not just that, is it, or her guard wouldn’t be so incandescent as well.]

[His attention is torn from the proceedings back to Zelda as her gaze lands on him, as her question rings in his mind. Nodding smoothly, he hesitates only for a moment before offering a message of his own in return, even though he’s unsure of whether it will make its way to her in this dream.]

[I want to help in any way I can. I want to help you to protect your kingdom.]