Where do I sit, and what do I have laid before me?
[ rhetorical, as always.
but she is not an elf, so she does not have to assume her actions will be held as evidence of a rifter's behavior and another groups', too. ]
One does not play chess with backgammon pieces and find sympathy when they are trounced. Do you have any questions left unanswered about why things are done a certain way, or why some matters are not spoken of? My door is open for just such questions.
Nothing I do not already know the truth of the answer too. What I do not know, I have seen similar enough to guess. Though they have less clever beasts to fear, and I suppose I must remember that about them.
[ But there is a sigh. ]
Anything else I fear the trouble it might cause you for my own indulgence and I have no need or want to cause such issues.
In my optimism, I presume our success against Corypheus and have devoted no small measure of thought of thinking of after, of when there are no more rifts for us to close.
[ Oh, children. She's sure Gwen will have perfectly little squalling rolly-polly little babies that never give her a moment's peace, like she deserves, but even so - ]
Then I pray you keep that hope alive. For surely the great blessing of mortal men's short lives will keep that dream from them as far as any of these people are concerned for us.
Help is provided because help should be provided. It is the only reason such positions should be given out and should exist.
[ For one moment they could cry out your name, swear you the hope of your people, you could even do for them now as she wished to do for Thranduil. See someone only the greatest happiness.
But night will come, night will always come, and they will turn belly up like cowards. They will sell out their own people for the right price, and so many will die for it. She will not be that fool again, she will not be betrayed again. She will not let other people pay for her naivety, her hopes, her foolishness. Because she had believed something to be true. ] But I learned too long ago that you may give everything of yourself away to the point of starvation, goodwill still will not be something you can always trust.
( it's gwenaëlle's voice, but distorted, difficult to make out—almost impossible—the snatches of it enough to make her anxious annoyance hard to miss, at least, but only a bare whisper of her message is comprehensible: )
Adalia. She is a rifter with whom I believe you have some familiarity, and with whom I butted heads with earlier in my time in the Inquisition. ( Irritation about the lack of mage division heads, etc. That old chestnut. )
Ah, [ he says, and leaves it at that as he mulls over what to say, what someone else is entitled to hear.
after a moment: ] I am. I fear my attempts to divert her, let alone comfort her, are entirely unwelcome. You would do far better speaking with my betrothed, who she will, perhaps, value the input of.
Interestingly, she said she had gone to you to request help with her present state. And Gwenaëlle, and Solas—
( A sip of wine. )
I can't pretend to being an expert in... managing emotions or conflict. ( Well. ) Or, rather, managing emotions and conflict of people with whom I share a personal dislike. Why torment both parties, you know?
( so like.... Thranduil.... buddy.... please help her out..... please carry her away......... like rifter solidarity or whatever......... please buddy.......... buddy, pal, best friend that she decided was her best friend about 2 minutes ago............... )
She has made it clear that my attentions are not welcome, and I will not push her, both for her own sake and for my health.
[ he considers. marisol is welcome to set the soundtrack for that, he helpfully provides the sound of rustling papers. that he does not hang up is likely indication that he will not, or is biding his time to risk a second question. ]
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