eachdraidh | o1. spider | audio; both courts.

I keep thinking of this story.

[ There's nothing particularly guarded about the way Natasha sounds. Lazy, maybe; a little mildly amused. ]

Once upon a time, there was a proud and warlike tsar— [ A short pause, then a correction. ] —a ruler. His name was Dadon. When he was young, he invaded and destroyed neighboring lands, taking them for his own. When he grew older Dadon wanted peace, but now his enemies sensed his weakness and it was their turn to wage war on him. He asked for help from his court magician, who gave him a golden cockerel. If any enemies approached, the bird would crow, and because the tsar was pleased he promised that he would give the magician anything he asked for.

Dadon's people lived peacefully for two years. The bird did its job whenever there was danger. One day, the golden bird cried out louder than ever before, so the man sent a great army under the command of his eldest son. Eight days passed. When the bird crowed again, his son and their army weren't back, so he sent out his younger son and another army. There was no news again for eight more days.

He was worried. The bird crowed again, so he went to go investigate this personally, with an army of his best warriors. After several days, he came across a battlefield where both armies and his two sons lay dead. At the edge of the field, he saw a tent with a woman of stunning beauty inside. Her name was—

[ A beat. ]

—you know, I don't think I remember. Her title, though, was the Queen of Shamakha. She invited him inside his tent and Dadon fell in love with her. He took her home, back to his kingdom.

When he did, the magician was waiting for him at the gates. He asked the tsar to pay for the golden bird by giving him the Queen of Shamakha. Angry with the request, Dadon hit the magician with his sword, wounding him fatally. At that moment the bird swooped down and pecked Tsar Dadon to death. And the Queen of Shamakha disappeared, as if she had never been there.

[ Natasha huffs out a laugh. ]

Sorry. Maybe that was too obvious a moral. [ And just like that, the audio abruptly ends. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ And there's the laugh. A little pleased, a little appreciative. Sort of threaded through with a notion of solidarity, somewhere. ]

I like you.

[ and we're gonna casually sidestep that compliment but ty ]

There is another argument to be made for a moral I don't think has been articulated yet.

Please.

[ Do go on, new favorite. ]

That people are neither prizes nor debts to be exchanged.

Even women found in the middle of battlefields?

I prefer my prizes less dangerous to my well-being than that.

[ In a faintly amused sort of way:— ]

Who are you?

Athos. Formerly — I was a soldier, before.

And are you a soldier here, too?

[ now with that there's a slight pause. the words are slightly more obviously measured than anything he's said until now. ]

I fought for my king. I have yet to find him here.

Yeah.

[ Mildly, a little distant. ]

I know what you mean.

[ well that's enough of the past tyvm ]

Do you often enjoy telling pointed stories to a relatively captive audience?

[ Pleasantly: ]

It's my favorite past time, Athos.

[ uh huh right ]

I don't recall catching your name? [ since hey maybe talking later too wouldn't be a horrible idea. ]

Natasha Romanoff.

[ :) ]

Pleasure to meet you, Miss Romanoff. So we can expect more mild philosophy in the future?

I don't know.

Not many people seem to like it.

Well this particular discussion was on the wrong side of a lesson. [ people typically don't like to learn things no matter where you are, apparently. ]

But I do have one fan.

[ It doesn't sound accusing so much as-- a little jagged, like the way a friend might poke you in the side. ]

Right?

[ surprise it's you ]

[ oh no his only kind of friend ]

I'd imagine you must.

o1. spider | audio; both courts.

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