![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
It's simple. I went over to thank Rowan for carrying me away from danger and things went in an interesting direction.
I couldn't be more proud.
How was the sex?
[ He can't even help himself. ]
How was the sex?
[ He can't even help himself. ]
Have you ever had sex with a flexible Antivan elf and a very dedicated human?
[ He lets her have her moment of desperation, being her silent anchor as she needs. He wonders how her version of him would handle this- if there's something he should do that he's missed because their timelines are just a bit skewed. That thought gets pushed immediately to the back of his head. He can't keep thinking that or it's going to drive him insane.. Dorian is here now and that's what matters. He may not truly know her relationship with him, but maybe this is a step closer. She trusts him enough to have a moment of weakness in front of him, and that's incredibly humbling in itself.
She grasps at his hand, her head pillowed on his thigh. Tan fingers find their way into her hair, carding through her soft locks and dragging against her scalp lightly. He didn't know how much he needed to see her smile until she gets that fond look on her face. ]
No, it's not at all.. [ Suffering is the native sound of Thedas and right now, he feels it. His heart squeezes almost painfully in his chest. What is it about the Dalish Inquisitors that they feel the need to wound him in the best ways? Her thumb strokes over his knuckles and his heart swells. ]
That sentiment will depend entirely upon who you talk to.
She grasps at his hand, her head pillowed on his thigh. Tan fingers find their way into her hair, carding through her soft locks and dragging against her scalp lightly. He didn't know how much he needed to see her smile until she gets that fond look on her face. ]
No, it's not at all.. [ Suffering is the native sound of Thedas and right now, he feels it. His heart squeezes almost painfully in his chest. What is it about the Dalish Inquisitors that they feel the need to wound him in the best ways? Her thumb strokes over his knuckles and his heart swells. ]
That sentiment will depend entirely upon who you talk to.
I don't know. I can think of another mage that deserves some attention too.
I don't recall saying you weren't capable. I said that you deserve it.
There is no limit to the things I think I deserve.
[ Okay, but consider: there is. ]
[ Okay, but consider: there is. ]
[ There's a problem with being Inquisitor and that is that she can't let herself be weak in front of people; she must be a statue, strong and unshaken, proud and determined to the end. She couldn't be afraid when she hunted Corypheus, she couldn't be afraid when she stood before a dragon, she wasn't meant to feel fear when she stumbled into the Fade and came face to face with her own nightmares, but she was. She's afraid now, too; afraid of her own demons catching up with her, of the Anchor exploding again and hurting the people she cares about, of dying before she can bring everyone she loves back into her arms.
Leilani is desperate for some kind of comfort now and even though she doesn't voice it Dorian is there, reaching back for her and lifting a hand to touch at her hair. He strokes his fingers against her scalp and she relaxes, sighing a soft noise and resting her cheek on his leg, leaning closer and holding onto him. This is her anchor, she thinks. It doesn't matter how far she goes when she has someone to come back to - someone who will make her laugh, who lightens her heart, who doesn't shoo her out when the nightmares drag her courage from her. Dorian is someone who reaches back, and it makes her heart pang in the most wonderful of ways. ]
It could be worse. I could be listening to Mother Giselle again.
[ It's a tease, and she brings his knuckle to her mouth, leaving a soft kiss there before she pushes herself up. Then she's settled on his bed, wrapping her arms around him and holding on tight, squeezing him and letting her fingers grasp - gently, she knows how he is - at his shirt. He's warm and feels like home, and Leilani feels happy for the first time in a while, even with the haunting reminder of her nightmares prickling in the back of her mind. ]
Consider me on the side of 'Dorian Pavus is wonderful'. [ A fond smile, and her forehead moves to nudge his gently. ] Ar dhrua ma, lethallin.
Leilani is desperate for some kind of comfort now and even though she doesn't voice it Dorian is there, reaching back for her and lifting a hand to touch at her hair. He strokes his fingers against her scalp and she relaxes, sighing a soft noise and resting her cheek on his leg, leaning closer and holding onto him. This is her anchor, she thinks. It doesn't matter how far she goes when she has someone to come back to - someone who will make her laugh, who lightens her heart, who doesn't shoo her out when the nightmares drag her courage from her. Dorian is someone who reaches back, and it makes her heart pang in the most wonderful of ways. ]
It could be worse. I could be listening to Mother Giselle again.
[ It's a tease, and she brings his knuckle to her mouth, leaving a soft kiss there before she pushes herself up. Then she's settled on his bed, wrapping her arms around him and holding on tight, squeezing him and letting her fingers grasp - gently, she knows how he is - at his shirt. He's warm and feels like home, and Leilani feels happy for the first time in a while, even with the haunting reminder of her nightmares prickling in the back of her mind. ]
Consider me on the side of 'Dorian Pavus is wonderful'. [ A fond smile, and her forehead moves to nudge his gently. ] Ar dhrua ma, lethallin.
[ The only problem with being the Herald is having to be that beacon of hope for all of Thedas. It's a burden that's hard to carry, especially for someone like Leilani, who probably had no intentions of becoming this involved when she entered the Conclave. Constant and unyielding strength eventually takes its toll. The thing is..everyone gets scared and has the right to show it. Bull shows it with getting himself beaten with a stick, Dorian uses sarcasm as he does with most things, analyzing at a later date. Or drowning everything in wine. Her suffering is quiet and desperate in the way she holds onto him like he's the only thing keeping her above water.
The jab makes him huff in laughter, shaking his head. ] You're right, listening to that crone is a punishment in itself.
[ There's no way he could adore her more, and it worries him. Her arms are around him and he returns the gesture, his own coming around her back. She squeezes a bit too tight, his still-healing ribs screaming in protest. His grip on her tightens, and he absolutely doesn't make a noise of discomfort, just clearing his throat. This is an emotional moment and he's floored.
Dorian's grasp on Elvish is definitely lacking, but there's one word he knows enough from hearing it often. Lethallin. His hand moves to the back of her neck, giving it a light squeeze in return. ]
A small club, but a humbling one.
The jab makes him huff in laughter, shaking his head. ] You're right, listening to that crone is a punishment in itself.
[ There's no way he could adore her more, and it worries him. Her arms are around him and he returns the gesture, his own coming around her back. She squeezes a bit too tight, his still-healing ribs screaming in protest. His grip on her tightens, and he absolutely doesn't make a noise of discomfort, just clearing his throat. This is an emotional moment and he's floored.
Dorian's grasp on Elvish is definitely lacking, but there's one word he knows enough from hearing it often. Lethallin. His hand moves to the back of her neck, giving it a light squeeze in return. ]
A small club, but a humbling one.
[ There was never a part of her that wanted that role, to take up the mantle of some kind of shemlen figure of power, to pretend to believe in something that all her Gods and beliefs told her were false. She prayed to the shrines of the Pantheon, she kept her Keeper's ring around her neck and she stood by those that she thought were real and true. She accepted the role as an elf and nothing more, recalling the tales of her people, of the Dalish, of their own desires - We are the last of the elvhenan, and never again shall we submit. She because Inquistor as much for her people as she did for Thedas.
In moments like this, though, she can't find any reason why she can argue some kind of happiness. Wrapped up with Dorian, with a friend she would never have met otherwise - he in Tevinter and her in the Dales with her clan - she knows she made the right choice. Even when her mind floods with bright green dreams and a solemn, careful voice stalks her through the Fade she knows she has chosen right. She would never choose to give up any of them, not for a moment. Any pain was worth bearing if it means she could hear Bull and the chargers laughing, Blackwall carving quietly, Vivienne and Cassandra sniping... Dorian reading aloud and scoffing at the ridiculousness of the books.
She'd choose them. Every single time. In any world, in any place, at any cost, she would choose them. ]
Your ears would fall off and then we've have to get you prosthetics. It would be a terrible shame.
[ She is not blind, however, and she notices the shift, the cough, and her eyes narrow before she shakes her head. Shifting, she moves back and settles higher on the bed, taking Dorian's hand and tugging gently. He might not be in the mood to lie down but she's not going to have him lounging and embracing her when, clearly, he is suffering something. Her lips twist down into a frown and she tilts her head, wanting to draw him close but being afraid to hurt him more. ]
I'd gladly lead the club, if I am permitted. [ Then, softer; ] Come and lie with me. Just for a few hours, then I will give you some peace.
[ Expression gentle, she just waits. It's up to Dorian to make himself comfortable or not; she just wants him to have his pain eased. ]
In moments like this, though, she can't find any reason why she can argue some kind of happiness. Wrapped up with Dorian, with a friend she would never have met otherwise - he in Tevinter and her in the Dales with her clan - she knows she made the right choice. Even when her mind floods with bright green dreams and a solemn, careful voice stalks her through the Fade she knows she has chosen right. She would never choose to give up any of them, not for a moment. Any pain was worth bearing if it means she could hear Bull and the chargers laughing, Blackwall carving quietly, Vivienne and Cassandra sniping... Dorian reading aloud and scoffing at the ridiculousness of the books.
She'd choose them. Every single time. In any world, in any place, at any cost, she would choose them. ]
Your ears would fall off and then we've have to get you prosthetics. It would be a terrible shame.
[ She is not blind, however, and she notices the shift, the cough, and her eyes narrow before she shakes her head. Shifting, she moves back and settles higher on the bed, taking Dorian's hand and tugging gently. He might not be in the mood to lie down but she's not going to have him lounging and embracing her when, clearly, he is suffering something. Her lips twist down into a frown and she tilts her head, wanting to draw him close but being afraid to hurt him more. ]
I'd gladly lead the club, if I am permitted. [ Then, softer; ] Come and lie with me. Just for a few hours, then I will give you some peace.
[ Expression gentle, she just waits. It's up to Dorian to make himself comfortable or not; she just wants him to have his pain eased. ]
I fear that list may set us up for failure.
Well. If they don't work for me, they certainly might for you.
Well. If they don't work for me, they certainly might for you.
I'm not quite ready to sleep through the entire fleet.
Not the entire fleet, that's too ambitious, even for myself.
Edited 2017-11-23 21:33 (UTC)
I think the two was more than enough for me for now.
Page 4 of 26