( he knows what they're doing. it was part of what he expected all along, when they come in their white dresses and gifted their wreaths of flowers — he's seen, now, the terror and destruction they've wrought and can only imagine what else they intend. klaus has been watching, careful to keep his distance.
it's not the string, he knows, that sparks a flicker of rage and tenderness in him, hearing of her suffering. it's the regal set of her shoulders, the bravery and strength in her eyes despite the fear and wildness of emotion so obvious underneath.
he ignores elena's resentment; quite frankly, he couldn't care less. his eyes, unmoving from dany's, finally look to the side, catching elena in his periphery. ) Will you leave us? ( it's not an unkind request. on the contrary, when his gaze finds her, there's assurance there. ) A moment. ( that's what he needs. )
no subject
it's not the string, he knows, that sparks a flicker of rage and tenderness in him, hearing of her suffering. it's the regal set of her shoulders, the bravery and strength in her eyes despite the fear and wildness of emotion so obvious underneath.
he ignores elena's resentment; quite frankly, he couldn't care less. his eyes, unmoving from dany's, finally look to the side, catching elena in his periphery. ) Will you leave us? ( it's not an unkind request. on the contrary, when his gaze finds her, there's assurance there. ) A moment. ( that's what he needs. )