The Drow Queen of Glaley [Very NSFW]

[Coquette Blacquin]

"But you will allow her to abuse me?" she snaps. "To abandon me to-- to the whims of your family?"

[Estelle Emerison]

"There is a difference between having a panic attack and abuse," Estelle fires back. "She needs help, not more torture."

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Because you are the expert on your wife, clearly," she says, her tone droll. "She needs to be pushed."

[Estelle Emerison]

Estelle pales, the blow clearly landing, but she stands firm. "Moreso than you."

[Coquette Blacquin]

"You act as though I have never had a panic attack. I understand fully how they behave and how to push through one and continue functioning. She does not. She needs to be taught."

[Estelle Emerison]

"Taught how?" Estelle demands, doing some pushing of her own.

[Coquette Blacquin]

"She cannot be allowed to behave like this anymore. Forcing her to remain would have taught her that she can remain. That she can force herself to face the fear."

[Estelle Emerison]

"Or it could have snapped something in her." Estelle frowns, eyes narrowing. "What are you basing your... intentions on?"

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Personal experience."

[Estelle Emerison]

Estelle arches an eyebrow. "Experiences based on-- on your life with my not-sister?" She gives Coquette a pointed look of disbelief. "That seems a poor teacher. Certainly an unkind one."

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Even before then, living with my birth family. One can do so much more than one believes if one is pushed into it."

[Estelle Emerison]

"At what cost?" Estelle asks quietly, a note of... pity... in her voice now. "I handle most of the external diplomacy for the Enclave, aside from the finer details of business. As part of that, to defend and explain our culture and our past, I've had to study a great deal about the, ah, the results and consequences of slavery. How it breaks people and how they can be restored. How they can't. Very little of that pertains only to slaves."

[Coquette Blacquin]

"You think me one broken, pitiful, weak?" she asks, and to be fair, her posture, her tone are everything but. 

[Estelle Emerison]

Estelle laughs, a harsh, pained noise. "You're of Familigia Emerison: of course you're broken. We all are."

[Coquette Blacquin]

"What," she says, her voice low and cold, her hand going to her rapier. "Are you implying -- no, outright saying -- about our Grandmother!?"