Sturdiness of Body [Cyrus, Natasha]

The matter in Africa had been no small affair, certainly, and Cyrus had been dealing with much in the fallout. Not the least of which, of course, had been the changing of authority, passing the title of Grandmaster down to another. Formal announcement had not been made yet, of course, and by any official measure, Cyrus still led the Vandenreich. But he did not feel like a leader, nor think of himself as one, even as he knocked politely on the door of one particular member of the Vandenreich, before entering with a small smile of greeting. He'd heard she was still recovering, even if better, and so he thought he ought to come.

"Miss Miller. Ah, apologies, Natasha. My apologies that I wasn't able to come sooner. I would ask if you are well, but I feel asking how you have been recovering would be a more pertinent question."

He understood, of course, that all of this was a difficult affair. He understood plenty well, and he understood most of all that his own contribution to the Vandenreich's efforts had been rather little. But it was impractical that he would do so, and so he had little choice but to push aside those worries.

Natasha had recovered exceptionally well during her stay in the hospital. Since the disaster in Africa, her mind had danced between those remaining embers of rage she felt at her loss, among a myriad of other emotions, and the calming acceptance that nothing she did would change the past. Allowing any of it to bother her to an extreme degree would only hinder her path to improvement. For what it was worth, Natasha could move around the room well enough, most of her internal injuries were healing at a welcoming rate, and she was allowed as many visitors as she requested, making this extended stay far more pleasant than it was when she first entered. The company was always welcomed in her time of need, after all.

A familiar face and voice draw her gaze away from the tablet she's browsing through, hazel eyes turned to the right to see the man of the hour. The Grandmaster. It wasn't particularly the first face she expected to see, but there was little complaint to offer. In the short time she had gotten to know him personally, he was pleasant company. His presence was always welcomed, even if part of her didn't feel too keen about being seen covered in a few bandages. A lady loved looking pleasant on the eyes, after all, no? Ah, no use in crying over spilled milk now. He's here, and she's already presenting that infectiously bright smile accompanied by a wave of the hand.

"My, look whose visitin' me while these fine doctors get me back to good health. I'm a lil' caught off guard. If ya had lemme know you were visitin', I would've put my best makeup on." She hummed with a playful pose and playful tone.

"Kidding. I'm recoverin' pretty well, honey. It was a little hard to stomach resting in this place fresh off such a devastating loss, but I reckon I'm in better enough health now than I was when they first brought me in. What brings ya' round these parts, Grandmaster? Visitin' your soldiers in their time of need?"

"Oh, your features are already more than lovely as they are."

Even if she had been kidding, Cyrus was certainly all too willing to return the banter, knowing that it would likely lighten the mood. And, of course, it wasn't as if it were simply empty flattery, though that was hardly the primary concern for him at present.

"I have naturally been seeing after everyone who was caught in what's happened, but I would also be a liar if I said that you were simply another of my soldiers, hm? Everyone's well-being is of great import to me, but I have saved you for the last today. A bit more time to chat, and all of that."

There was certainly a tiredness behind Cyrus' expression, but he still carried himself with confidence and assuredness, perhaps more than he had in quite some time.

"Makin' me blush already, and it ain't even been a second yet. Still as charming as always, I see, Grandmaster."

The playful banter was a welcome reprieve from the boring silence that inevitably occupied this kind of setting. The deep timbre accompanied by those charming words was also worth their fair share of brownie points. Digression aside, Natasha turned to observe him with a curious gaze, noting the tiredness in those otherwise handsome features.

There were likely several culprits behind those eyes. The process of maintaining composure as a leader in the aftermath of a significant loss, the stress of looking over fallen soldiers, reminders of their defeat - none of this was easy for him right now, was it? Beacon of optimism that she was, though, Natasha took his next words in stride as she offered a playful tilt of her head. Honestly, the fact that he chose to visit her last was flattering. Well now, wasn't he in a charming mood today? How can she keep a long face with words like these? He was making it awfully difficult, no doubt.

"That's about the second time you've flattered me. Takin' pages from my book of charm already, eh, Grandmaster? I must admit I appreciate the thought. Didn't know ya thought so highly of me, sweetheart. Course, taking a closer look at your eyes, I can tell things haven't been easy on your end, have they? C'mere, let's see if I can work my magic and brighten up your day."

Motioning for him to occupy a seat at her bedside, a warm smile lined her lips, as if she truly meant what she said. She wasn't so bold to assume she could wash away everything that bothered this man currently, but she felt herself a miracle worker who could put a nice smile on a nice face. It was the sort of skill she hung her hat on, after all.

“And whyever should I not? If ever one was to try and be charming, surely you would be one of the most ideal to learn from.”

Cyrus was not necessarily bothered by the fact that she had correctly discerned how tired he truly was, but rather by the fact that he had allowed it to be so transparent, especially when dealing with those who, by his own measures, surely had far more reason to be tired than he. Even so, however, he was not going to decline the woman’s offer, in no small part because he imagined it would be rude to do so. Besides, she was hardly an unpleasant woman to be around. He gladly sat at her bedside as he’d been beckoned to do, still looking rather ragged but with a bit more light behind his eyes.

“There is naturally much to be done, as Grandmaster, but I would not wish to act as though I have done half as much as the Sternritter such as you who faced the matter down directly. All I am reasonably able to do is support you and commend you.”

For a man that had always aimed to be the hero to all people, to take their burdens onto himself, such a fate was painful beyond words. But he understood that, for now, it was his place in the world, that it was better he be here than throwing himself into the fray at the first sign of danger. Even so, knowing that fact did not make it any more comforting.

"Easy now, sweetheart. Any more of that, and I'll be blushin' bright enough to double as a ripe tomato. Glad to know my charm is an ideal model to work from, though. I do try my best."

Natasha did her best to hide the soft shade of red in her cheeks, but her feminine pride won out against professional composure. What well-meaning woman didn't enjoy a good compliment, right? The moment he occupied a spot at her bedside, she gently reached out to welcome him into a warm embrace. Encroaching his personal space certainly went against all manners of propriety but so what? It wasn't exactly her style to show anything less but her way of solving problems.

He was, by all accounts, a man she viewed in a positive light, and that ragged look in his eyes was far too dark for her tastes. Nothing certainly hurt attempting to bring some light to them, no? Of course not. At best, her gentle warmth and affection would put his mind at ease. At worst, well... he walked away with a free hug and inspiring words to reflect on.

"C'mon now, honey. Give yourself some credit. Just because you're not out there on the frontlines doesn't mean you haven't done your fair share. I reckon you've done more than you could ever imagine. Somehow, someway, you've been able to bring together a well-functioning collective of Quincy and other folk' who've come together for a good cause. That's no small feat for a man, ya know? Sometimes, I wonder what my life would be like without this place. Lemme tell ya, it ain't anything pleasant."

Softly running a hand through his head, Natasha would pause for a moment. When it came down to it, this place mattered a lot to her. The Vandenreich. The City of Lights. Everyone she met along the way. Try as she might to think of life minus all of that, she could never imagine it would bring her nearly as much joy being here, fighting under this banner, for these people. As long as she breathed, she wouldn't allow him to treat himself harshly for things out of his power.

"You're the man who gives the people hope. The Grandmaster of the Vandenreich. Your support means far more than you can imagine for someone like me. Sure, the battles are tough, and I know it's unpleasant witnessing any one of us in our current condition, but I'm honored to fight for you. No matter what anyone else thinks... remember your worth. If all you can do is support, then be the goddamn best at it, ya hear? if all you can do is instill hope in the people, then be the best at it. It sounds really cliche, I know, but things like that can go a long way, ya know?"

It was something of a mouthful, to be sure, but Natasha felt it ought to be said. There was more to this than fighting on the front lines. Combat was a crucial part of maintaining the peace, yes, but there was more to it than that. Several factors, several layers, all of them starting with him. One man had to be brave enough to make something like this work, and here he was, doing just that. Was it perfect? Was it precise? No, of course not. Varying personalities and conflicting interests would always make that a difficult venture, but it was still a feat that deserved no small amount of admiration and respect.