Dawn Treader Valley but you look good tonight, girlfriend

for @Andromache and/or @Silvertongue when u guys have the time <3

Another has come to his land; or what had decidedly become his.
A slight woman of no name who would have been pecked at by vultures if not for their settlement within close range. A pity, he thought; although happiness about her presence here would be an overstatement. Nevertheless, she would be offered the finest of supplies that could be harvested — nettle seeds, snakeroot, chamomile — for Faustus was not a man who took pleasure in needless death.
In his downtime, he continues with the mapping and planning. The valley still does not appeal to his grandiose eyes, but it is something. Paths carefully drawn and dug from silt, homes put in place for his men and packed in with his own hand.
His kyría is called forth to the clearing with the intention of chat; with him, he brings an offering of water in a bowl spun from dried leaves and a handful of supplies for the strange barbarian girl.

Andromache had scarcely parted from Silvertongue's side since bringing her to their land. She brought her meals and medicine, but did not pressure her to speak of what had happened to send her here. And she sensed Faustus's displeasure with this, though she tried to ignore it.

But they had agreed to discuss each decision, and the princess was reminded of this agreement when he called for her. She met him in the clearing, surprised to see him with gifts clearly meant for their guest. Faustus, She greeted quietly, settling across from him. Our guest is recovering well. For a moment she thought she might say something foolish and sentimental like I'm glad you're okay, or I've missed your company. But that would have been too honest. So she didn't.

I am glad to hear that. There will be no needless deaths on our soil, his greeting is an amiable one; typical thin-lipped smile and the flash of a tail as it beats against the sand-soil. I have gathered some extra supplies that she may need. My mother was a medical scribe before she was wed, and knew a thing or two of snake bites. Florentia was infested with them, both metaphorical and not.
He motions to the items at his feet, neatly tied with twine. Does she plan to join us when she is well, kyria? mismatched eyes twinkle with something wonderous. We will have to think of a... duty, for her. As well as your own men, now that I mention it. Titles. They cannot be known only as guards, can they?

She quieted and shook her head, expression tightening a little at the memory of that first conversation. No, I don't believe she will. She spoke of going home, The hint of a frown tugged at her features, but there was no emotion in her voice. Andromache went on: But you're right. The men will need titles of their own.

I'd like Euryalos as my personal guard. Provided he accepts, This was a decision she'd spent many hours contemplating; Nikolaos was the obvious choice, but for that reason, she wanted him elsewhere. And Nikolaos should be in a position of command. He's loyal and experienced.

She would not stay. Faustus would not make her.
He turns his gaze to the swing of gold-tipped grass, to the dustbowl slowly morphing into their home. Something Greek and Roman, something both and neither; Myros and Florentia and in between.
Perhaps I will seek to hire a guard of my own, he muses aloud; a silent agreement that yes, these were good choices. He would not argue so long as such titles kept the Macedonian mouths closed. we will need to recruit more people soon. We cannot have an empty empire. Bicolored eyes turn, again, to the woman.