[ 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. ]
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Date: 2017-11-20 11:29 pm (UTC)From: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. ]