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Aug. 1st, 2019 04:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
heatherandsteelQuentin was sick of how often some people are chosen to be the pawns in someone else's scheme. Riordan made sense in an awful way, so much of being Daoine Sidhe was about holding power and getting power. But Samson had used Raj, his own son as a pawn and his hatred of Toby never seemed to stop until he did. And Bridget because all she knew were the stories of Fae using children as pawns hid Chelsea from Sir Etienne. At least they were going to have some kind of happy ending and Toby wasn't trying to kill herself every day, but he was so tired.
His bruises were almost healed but he wouldn't forget the way Riordan had looked at him, what use she could make of him and when she didn't like his answers. How she made her guards beat him and Chelsea up because they didn't do what they were supposed to. But she wouldn't get her own hands dirty, not like Toby or Tybalt who were always going in as deep as they could to help. He had to learn to be a leader like them.
Maybe he'd see what they had the kitchen, or neaten it since the house still needed cleaning after Samson broke in. He went down the stairs, stretching as he went.
His bruises were almost healed but he wouldn't forget the way Riordan had looked at him, what use she could make of him and when she didn't like his answers. How she made her guards beat him and Chelsea up because they didn't do what they were supposed to. But she wouldn't get her own hands dirty, not like Toby or Tybalt who were always going in as deep as they could to help. He had to learn to be a leader like them.
Maybe he'd see what they had the kitchen, or neaten it since the house still needed cleaning after Samson broke in. He went down the stairs, stretching as he went.
