[ 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.