fantachetic | ic inbox;; drift fleet

Quite.

Open your door?

[ The incoming text throws him off a bit, but he hurries enough to get out of bed so he can open the door to his quarters for Leilani. ]

Having difficulties sleeping as well?

[ She slips inside, offering him a fond smile as she moves to close the door behind her. ]

Something like that. I've been having some bad dreams.

Not surprising after everything that was encountered.

[ He motions to the room. ] Make yourself comfortable if you'd like.

I was kidnapped and almost used as part of an alien blood ritual. It was interesting.

[ She doesn't go further into the room, instead stepping closer and reaching for his hand, to anchor herself. ]

Will you come with me?

..I'm sorry, I believe I got a bit of lunacy caught in my ear.

[ Excuse him, but he's just going to be very concerned for a moment before his expression is perfectly fine. ]

At least you are all right, now? [ And oh, how can he deny her request when she looks at him like that? He closes the distance between their hands, wrapping his around her smaller one. ]

Of course.

I'd love to say it was an accident, but...

[ All she can do is smile at him, gently, squeezing his hand and moving to shift closer. The urge to rest her forehead on his shoulder is incredible, but they're still learning how to be friends when she loved him so much and he had no idea who she was.

Her hand aches and she's tired, exhausted, with nightmares of Vieziei and Solas haunting her and making her feel sick to her stomach. ]

I'm not as bad as I have been.

Of course it wasn't an accident.

[ Stupid Inquisitors with their stupid heroism and sticking their necks out unnecessarily. Well.. He doesn't know that it was unnecessary, he hadn't been there. He has an inkling, though, that she did what she thought she had to. It's what most of them do.

Her hand squeezes his and he brushes his thumb lightly over her knuckles once. ]

I'm relieved. That was.. terrible, to say the least.

We had to find them somehow. I managed to lead people to their rituals and save some of the others, too.

[ But it took its toll on her. Her hand still hurts and she's still exhausted - the amount of magic she had used in the last few weeks, the amount of strain she put herself through, all because she wanted to help people. She's glad Dorian doesn't know most of it because she can imagine the tense, frowning judgement that would come.

When he brushes his thumb over her hand she feels as though she's going to fall apart. It's been weeks since she felt safe - not since waking up, since before finding Solas, since arriving at the Palace for the Exalted Council - but here, with Dorian holding on to her, she feels as though there's nothing for her to fear. ]

Dorian. [ She breathes out his name, closing his eyes. For a moment, her throat is tight. ] Did you know I'm dying?

Edited 2017-11-18 23:29 (UTC)

I'm glad you were able to help them, then. It's something no one should have to experience.

[ She looks exhausted, but not from magic use- this is a bone-deep exhaustion that seems to sap the life force. She needs rest, more of it than she's been getting; than she's probably had since they left. Of course there will be judgment, but that's his modus operandi. He judges because he's at a loss. He should have been there. What sort of companion is he that he let the Inquisitor go at this alone-- especially when something like blood rituals are involved??

There's silence, and then he feels his throat constrict and a leaden weight settles in his stomach. He hadn't known that. Dorian doesn't know Leilani as well as she knows him, but.. there's still a feeling of loss at the fact. Dying, and she's still saving people. The conversation mirrors one that he's had before. Far longer ago and even further away, but the feeling is so familiar, and it's one he has difficulty with.

Helplessness.

His mouth works to say something, but nothing comes up. His jaw clicks shut, teeth clenching together. ]

I-- [ Goodness, this is unbecoming of him. She's the one ailing, not him. He clears his throat, brow knitting together. ]

Can nothing be done?

I wanted to do something. No one should have to suffer that.

[ It is bone deep; it's years and years of being placed on a pedestal, it's months of working herself to the bone, of tracking agents of this and that and Qunari spies and spies of Fen'Harel only to find out that it all comes back to half of them tripping over the machinations of the her ex-lover, who was Fen'Harel himself. Learning the truth about Solas, about the loss of her vallaslin, about everything... It hurts. It's like her entire life has been destroyed and shattered by the revelations.

Lifting her head, she watches Dorian for a moment, feeling shame rush over her. She never wanted to hurt him or upset him, but she can't sit on this knowledge on her own for long. How many people realise the weight of the Anchor? How many people recognise that it's killing her? How long can she survive here? It's a question that has no real answer, and she bows her head. She loathes herself for putting all of this on a man who doesn't know her at all; he doesn't have the same feelings as the Dorian she knew. It wasn't fair.

Closing her eyes, she breathes out. ]

I need to have my arm removed or for Solas to appear and take care of it for me.

[ Neither options fill her with glee, but there's definitely one that's preferable. ]

[ She shouldn't have to endure the knowledge on her own, it must be agonizing to carry alone. He had no idea that the anchor she bore was killing her, and immediately, he remembers their earlier conversation about it. He had outright refused to aid her, and doesn't he feel like an ass for it. There's no taking it back, of course, but perhaps...

He should help her with it, especially if it means her life. Is that what had befallen Cyril as well? Is this the same fate his own Inquisitor will face? How much time does she have in this moment, and what ramifications will befall her for staying in this place? There are too many variables.. too many things that could go wrong. What made it different suddenly?

Even though he doesn't truly know her-- not like he should... it's still a melancholy sort of ache. Another version of himself may have to deal with the same thing. How will he react to the news? Does he even know? The air between them is heavy with uncertainties, and Dorian is at a loss for how to make it better. ]

How long do you have? [ He is building up his resolve, now. If that's what he has to do to ease her suffering? Well.. That's why she came to him with the topic again, isn't it? He won't deny her that if it's what she wants him to do. Leilani is still the Inquisitor. ]

Not long enough. [ But she shakes her head, drawing her hand away from Dorian's, feeling silly and stupid all of a sudden. There's a sudden rush of discomfort that floods her and she bows her head, taking a few deep breaths and counting back from three. It helps her to calm her racing heart, helps her to gather her strength and her determination, and she steps away from Dorian to slide down and rest on the floor with her back against his bed.

She feels awful. She didn't come here to tell him about her Anchor or her fate - she came here because she was scared and she wanted someone familiar. She wants to reach up and have him laugh with her, to tease her, to flirt and compliment the curve of her jaw or something about her mind, for things to go back to normal. She doesn't want to slip into dreams where she can't reach out to Solas, she doesn't want to remember the devastating pain of her Anchor exploding around her, making her want to tear her own limb away.

Shaking her head, she leans back, finally turning to look at him. Her sadness makes her stomach twist and she shakes her head, offering him a soft smile and her hand again, if he wants to come to her. There's no push, nothing that demands that he come to join her, nothing that should make him thing that it is an order. She isn't here as an Inquisitor or as a Keeper - she's here as someone who needed a friend and had no one else. Dorian might not know her, but he is everything in this moment. ]

I don't think I'm going to die here. It may be that there are no measures that need to be taken. It only hurts sometimes, but I can survive it. It has been my burden for years anyway. [ Lifting a shoulder, she tries to be nonchalant. ] I didn't come here for this, truly, Dorian. I came because I couldn't sleep.

[ He stays put for the time being, watching her as she settles on the floor with her back to the bed. Lets her have a moment before he takes her hand again and sits on the edge of the bed, his leg pressed to her shoulder. There are a great many things he'll do, but sitting on the cold, metal floor is where he draws the line. ]

You shouldn't have to hurt at all. [ That would be the ideal, wouldn't it? He knows that his own Inquisitor has the occasional flair up, but he's not aware of how bad it actually is. It must be an Inquisitor inclination not to over share what is going on. ]

I anticipated as much when you asked whether or not I was awake. I bring out the dramatic side to most people.

[ Trying to lighten the mood??? ]

[ Really, that's all that she needs. Dorian settles down on the bed, Dorian takes her hand, Dorian lets her rest her head on his thigh and it's everything she could have asked for. Tears well up inside of her as her heart sings Dorian Pavus over and over again, reaching to hold on to the one anchor she has here on the fleet. She feels awful, shame curling at her, biting at her fingers as she grips at the weight of him, loathing the way she depends on a man who knows her and doesn't all at once.

This isn't the same person she shared wine with or cornered in a library, the man she called brave, nor is it the man she stood beside in an uncertain future they needed to change. He has no idea who she is, at her core, and yet he holds onto her anyway, seeking her sadness and attempting to push it away. That's who he is, and she's never adored him more than she does in this single moment. ]

No one should have to hurt, but that's not how our world works.

[ She does laugh, though, tilting her head up to watch him fondly, a gentleness settling around her. Her fingers squeeze his hand and she shifts, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles in a mirror image of what he had done for her earlier. Breathing out, she closes her eyes, trying to relax. ]

You bring out the best side of people too, you know.