The pause given by the woman before her seemed uncharacteristic, not that Brynhild knew what was characteristic of her or not. It was simply a hunch she had, derived from a place of wisdom - a trait Brynhild was revered to have in abundance. Both women seemed to communicate in sighs and ellipses in equal parts, opting to choose their words carefully and crafting sentences that could not be taken incorrectly.
Even without the use of all of her abilities, she was aware of the dauntless and intrepid air that was masked by aloofness in the woman before her. The one who had just introduced herself as Lightning. A forlorn smile was once again cast Lightning’s way, in a veritable attempt at keeping some sort of peace in this situation. Though not feeling particularly threatened, there was the fragility that separated war and peace, love and hate. A concept Brynhild understood far too well; It took but a single interstice to shatter the glass which kept the two apart. Something as simple as a misunderstanding could have devastating consequences. Taking prudent strides to avoid such an outcome, was the wisest course of action; a considerably good use of her judgement.
“Ah–That is correct, I am not your enemy. Nor do I wish to be.”
Her mellow way of speaking was almost akin to something inhuman, someone who had not the practice of speaking as a mortal being. The tone never lacked conviction or wisdom, but the pacing and volume seemed out of place, certainly for someone who appeared to have a combat background. It was not loud or quick. Between each sentence there was almost an eerily, too long silence. It was certainly a curious occurrence.
Lightning’s next words seemed much harsher. She was unwavering in her belief that this plane was Valhalla, and Brynhild seemed to disagree. Yet, to debate such a thing in another’s homeland would be inadvisable. She knew this, and instead simply tilted her head slightly towards her gargantuan lance. Running her gaze down its length before following the contour of the landscape around and back to the weapon that now acted as a metaphorical barrier between herself and Lightning.
That weapon. There was a familiar draw to it. Perhaps it had been a gift from Odin? No, there was something more to it. At the inquiry, another morose smile was cast Lightning’s way. To divulge such information, would be to give away her identity; and from the knowledge imparted to her – such an idea was typically taboo. Still, Brynhild seemed not to care about repercussions of that action, and would inhale softly. “My father…”
She would ignore the inevitable looks that she would receive after dropping this phrase. Her eyes moved downcast, as her brows furrowed and her expression seemed a bit more pained. Her words would swiftly continue before the pause grew to be uncomfortable. “Odin is my father, and overseer of Valhalla. Valhalla…” Her voice trailed briefly as she glanced around this desolate place. “Is a majestic, enormous hall located in Asgard, ruled over by the god Odin. Chosen by Odin, half of those who die in combat travel to Valhalla upon death, led by Valkyries, the choosers of the slain. In Valhalla, the dead join the masses of those who have died in combat known as Einherjar, as well as various legendary heroes and kings, as they prepare to aid Odin during Ragnarok…”
Perhaps not the answer that Lightning was searching for, as Brynhild seemed to wait ambivalently for some sign of acknowledgement. Though such a tale was likely hard to swallow for one not of Brynhild’s plane of existence.
Words of peace breathed essence towards the situation at hand. To say that Lightning did not feel a flicker of relief would be but an understatement. She was over joyous in the collected agreement made by the being before her. Although she was a stranger, she was no enemy to make note of not. Considering constraints of the situation derived heavily on learning, on understanding, on evolving to the matters at hand. Lightning would meld herself into a warrior of words, if it mean’t figuratively placing herself in social standards. Words were never her forte either, considering she was far to blunt for her own good.
Yet again it would seem the woman before her deliberately desired as much. A unified countenance which mean’t from both parties compliance that facts would be made light of. Lightning could not fathom whether the other could lie to her, but she felt there would be no reason to. As such she lax’d her tense composure, if slightly. At least, shed all but assume there was no reason for such tension to be had until... That is. Peculiar words left her lips.
A tight knit of her eyebrows; bequeathing such an expression upon her visage was unlike the warrior. Yet the statements following afterwards did nothing to enlighten her otherwise. It was hard mix of trying to collect composure and a disdain of utter belief. Unsightly, and if she could muster the energy to transfix onto the probable likelihood that this was true. A part of her just could not believe, no matter the circumstance. Even so, some factors held true to the time at hand. Although no ‘Ragnarok’ was to be had. A war of struggles, had been prominent in it’s occurrence.
❝ That is... I’ve never heard of such a story. If you want my
take on honesty. So what... Are you here to fight in a war
then? Sorry to say, there’s no war going on now. ❞
Lightning states rather indefinitely. She does not imply that there was, nor, does she imply that there will be. Just procures the most factual answer with no means to define any information otherwise. The ex soldier felt there was no need, when it seemed more obvious that her story may be similar in some ways. Would not mean it bore any truth towards her world, and in doing so she will at least acknowledge the others story. More importantly, she desires no reason to get the other involved in this worlds fate.
It was due to such a strange tale though, that she could feel the tensed and unease worry of her companion. Although he was not afraid or felt the need to be scarce about their own existence. When the warrior of warriors was a proud entity, Lightning on the other hand felt herself reserved on the matter. She knew nothing of Lancer and even further from that, if Odin had been related towards the other in any manner. To what extent would such relations go--Yet. Family. Family feelings were such a tender trait to Lightning that she found herself a pang of Guilt if it mean’t she was keeping one away from the other. As Odin would do nothing but answer Lightning’s call, she felt herself between two tides that perhaps she had no right to stand in.
❝ Actually... Odin ... I know of him.
A pause.
❝ He stands beside me in battle often. So. When
you dropped his name like that. I don’t really
know what to think. Your father huh?
I didn’t think they could have family.... ❞
A test of sorts. She worries in truth, that the relationship may grow rocky. That the lack of information on her own part will instill a sort of strife between someone she does not know and herself. It bothers her, when she feels if there’s no need for trouble she wants nothing to do with it. Even further from that, Lightning is a true and earnest woman. Hiding something as important as her own father from Lancer, does not sit well with her stomach. Not when she, cares so much for the entity who has stood by her time and time again.
A white lie was not something she was foreign to. Dropping certain ques of information felt needed in this circumstance. If one thing went wrong then, perhaps this tower of truce could come tumbling over.
