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The four of them stalked down the halls of Canaan House. Well, Harrowhark stalked, Gideon strode at a languid pace behind her to trail with the Sixth. She watched her adept with a deft eye. The problem was that Harrow had refined the veneer of appearing in control down to an art. The finest and snootiest of arts that sold for millions among collectors since no one else gave a damn. But that meant that she didn't give any obvious signs of exhaustion; her step didn't wobble, her reactions weren't delayed, her words didn't slur.
But Gideon had seen her collapse mid-conversation before, back when she'd refined the art into something only worth thousands. The tests had Harrow acting the exact same way.
"You know she can't keep going like this."
Sextus apparently shared her thoughts, talking low and shooting Gideon a sidelong look. Of course, he couldn't do anything about it. Even the whisper of a hint would have Harrow's defences up and primed and would make her only more resistant to the idea of taking a fucking break. Even if it was for her own good.
"Well," Gideon wavered on if she should mention it, "I have one way."
Her jaw reflexively tightened as she felt the Sixth's focus slide onto her.
"I mean, I haven't done it in ages. It might not work."
The other option hung unsaid between the three. But it might. It could. It had.
Sextus nodded, just the once. When she glanced past at Camilla, she jerked her chin up in encouragement. Gideon quickened her step until she was the proper half-step behind her necromancer.
"Hey,"
Harrow didn't deign to give her a response,
"Remember when I first got you tranced?"
Now that got a response in the form of a sidelong glare localised to the dark paint around her eyes.
"Now's hardly the time to reminisce." her adept chided.
"Aw, you do remember!" She goaded, "I thought I might’ve made you forget."
Sounding like she was holding back an eye roll, Harrow sniped; "Don't flatter yourself, Griddle. Your expertise is with a sword, not the mind, and certainly not mine."
"So you don't have any trouble remembering it, yeah? That loose feeling down your neck? Your eyes blinking rapidly?"
"Now is not the time-"
She cut her off. Letting Harrowhark talk just gave her time to mentally recoup.
"That's how it felt, right? That's what you said last time."
"Yes, but-"
Gideon had to tamp down hard to keep the coprophagous grin off of her face. Harrow’s first ‘yes’ was the first sign that her technique was working, that Harrow was buying into it. Saying yes once made it easier to say a second which made it easier to say yes first which made it easier to say yes to the actions.
"So you feel that loose feeling down your neck, down the back of your neck. And your eyes blink-"
Harrow blinked.
"Like that and it happens more and more. Hey, was the next part slurring your words or was it you wobbling on your feet? D’you remember?"
Harrow’s next step did not wobble which meant that she really had to push when she said;
"I know wh-what you're-" she blinked more rapidly for a spell, "Doing. You're very obvious, y'know."
Harrow always fell back on insinuating uncharitable things about her wits when Gideon had her on the back foot. As if Gideon actually cared about her perceived intelligence, like she cared that she was using the bluntest possible solution. She didn’t care about doing anything with any measure of flair or grace or cunning: she just cared if it worked.
"My expertise is with a sword." She readily agreed, "You really think I'm good enough to put you in a trance again?"
She sliced Harrowhark's words apart into a whole new meaning.
"Of course not."
Her words came out low, a loud murmur, and her lids fluttered over her eyes. Her breath came deeper and heavier.
"You’re just remembering what it was like to be in a trance before. How it felt last time. You remember?"
She almost sounded like she had to catch her breath this time when she tried to reply, "Yes-"
Gideon cut through her words: "Your eyes fluttering, almost closed, your words harder and harder to get out. It's so tough to speak and it's not like you need to. Aren't you your own best audience? You can say it just to yourself."
"I- Ther-"
"I'm the sword and you're the mind, right?"
"Right-"
"So obviously it's hard to speak, you don't need to speak, you can just go loose, you can just-"
Harrow murmured something unintelligible, trying to reply. Between the flutter of her heavy lashes Gideon could see her eyes almost rolling. She was nearly there. Just a little push more and the Reverend Daughter would be under; fully in a hypnotic trance.
Or, just a little pull.
"-Let me hold you up, your eyes can blink and close, you know I'll put you away safe, you can just let go of that tension, let go of the urgency, remember that feeling and-"
Gideon carefully reached an arm out behind Harrowhark and, in one swift movement, clasped her upper arm and pulled the slight girl to her side.
"-Fall."
She over balanced as Gideon tugged her to the side, her eyes sliding shut, her mouth going slack. Her cavalier had to adjust quickly to catch her before she completely toppled to the ground.
Holding her draped over both arms, Gideon rose from her stooped catch and turned to face the Sixth behind her. Rather suddenly she remembered that they'd have seen everything that happened, something that was uncomfortably similar to intimate. Though Gideon would deep-throat her two-hander before ever admitting that.
She fought the rising red from her cheeks as she said:
"I’ll just, put her in our quarters.”
She hesitated, Ninth House paranoia crawling over her brain.
“You can’t go back down the hatch. If you get ahead while she’s taking a break she’ll never do it again.”
Camilla’s eyes flicked down to Harrowhark’s deceptively restful form, seemingly checking for some kind of reaction, but she merely breathed deep and heavy in Gideon’s arms. Palamedes didn’t look away from Gideon as he swore;
“We won’t. We’ll be in our quarters until she wakes. You could meet us there.”
“Or collect us when she wakes.” Camilla added as she looked back up.
Gideon’s shoulders relaxed slightly and she nodded before walking past them towards the Ninth’s quarters.
The Sixth House watched as she walked with her adept in arm, turning a corner out of sight. Still watching the corner, Camilla asked in an uneven tone;
“Warden, that wasn’t some kind of… Ninth House magic, was it?”
He could tell even as she asked it that she didn’t really believe it was, just that she didn’t have any other explanation. That and ‘secret dark magic’ was a little too on brand for the Ninth.
“If I’m not mistaken,” he explained, removing his glasses to rub at their lenses, “That was conversational hypnosis. As for why a Ninth House cavalier is versed in such a craft,”
Palamedes returned his glasses to his face and concluded in a frank tone;
“I have no fucking clue.”