If the dagger passed the test, it was barely, but even though Elsa closely studied Imenry's face, she was clueless to her thoughts, focusing so hard on the answers she wanted for herself. When they came, Elsa felt her spirit sink. Mages had a place not to be overstepped. It fit neatly into the pattern inside her head, the one where men were her superiors, but she found suddenly she did not wish for it. She didn't wish to stand back, to let other steer the matters with the edges of their swords. She had felt alive in that battle, more alive than she had done since she woke up, since she was born. Her conviction that it was wrong for a woman to do so battled fiercely for a moment with her want, her need to take active part in combat, to feel that exhilaration again. "You, eh, know of no mages who wade into the fray alongside their blade-wielding companions?" she said, slowly. It felt wrong somehow, asking the question, assuming that her place might even possible be in the middle of battle, but the memory of the fight could not be denied. Smiling very slightly, she tried to infuse it with enough warmth, enough charm to make the warrior woman open up. She was a woman and a warrior both, however odd that might seem. Ought she not to understand what Elsa was asking her, what she wanted? But then, Elsa herself hardly understood how she could stand there and ask for such unwomanly things.
Ah, this was the time to tread carefully, to weigh each word twice. Elsa might have lost every memory of her past, but her spine and her heart remembered well that at some point she had had cause for pride, for haughtiness. She didn't want Imenry's pity. "I have...flashes," she said at last, with a vague hand gesture. "A sound, a smell, a face, might suddenly bring back little pieces of the things I have forgotten. When I saw Brennan," and her tongue could not help but caress the name softly in saying it, "I thought I remembered him." Another shrug, long lashes hiding her eyes, instead studying Imenry's boots. "But he says we have not met, so it seems I must have some other former acquaintance who looks remarkably like him." A flash of pain then, flew over her face, contorting her features for a moment, before it was gone. The fact that Brennan was not the man she had remembered changed nothing, her heart remained singularly convinced that they were one and the same. "Si. I remember my name and what little things have returned since I woke." Her eyes lifted then, looking at Imenry directly, back straightening imperceptibly. Don't you dare to pity me, he eyes said.