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It'd have been better if I were still a Vauquelin, ( more clinical than regretful; matter of fact. ) A stronger message.

( it's going to work against them that she's not—gift-wrapped ammunition for those who will find flaws. elfblooded disgrace makes mockery of chantry with sure-he's-not-a-demon.

but not everyone will see it that way. it'd just have been easier, if she were harder to dismiss. then: ) But then we'd have needed Celene's permission as well. I don't know if we'd have got it.

Perhaps, [ he admits. ] It may have been in exchange for something else, like your father's assent on a policy, or even the title.

[ that could have worked out well. as much as he would have prefered their children to take the title of comte or comtesse (when he had considered such things) it never would have mattered for long. ]

Are you content with this as it is?

Edited 2018-08-07 01:53 (UTC)

Why try to leverage him when this is for the Inquisition's sake?

( cynical, but perhaps not wrong. and maybe, if she still held a title and the significance of the concession would be so much more distinct, the inquisition might have deemed it worth whatever celene thought she could get out of them in exchange for her support—

they might not have. and it might not have happened at all. round and round and round we go... )

—what do you mean?

[ he shrugs elegantly. 'just because' or 'the man tried to murder me, and he owes me for making me bleed my own blood' which are the same thing. ]

Is there aught you would have done differently?

( leaving aside the unlikeliness of celene wasting her time on emeric if she could leverage directly the much more significant inquisition, and the higher likelihood of emeric blocking the bid and refusing to give anyone anything on principle were he involved in it so directly, she shifts somewhat uneasily to the space beside him, unsettled by the question and unable to quite put her finger on why.

is he not happy?

stupid question. it's not been a good month; neither of them are happy. )

Moved in here sooner, ( is all she can think of. and in case he'd imagined any intention on her part to decamp to hightown; guilfoyle is there, overseeing the packing of her belongings even now. )

It is good, [ he says, ] to only regret something so small.

[ the dust of the road has been washed off, she is here. these are not small gifts. ]

Will you stay?

Indefinitely, ( both pert and affectionate, relaxing back into the side of him by increments.

then: )

I don't know what else I'd regret. How else would this have worked?

( it's hard to picture. )

[ he smiles against the back of her head, where she cannot see but can feel the pleased curl of his lips. ]

Perhaps we would have been caught. Perhaps circumstance would have forced you into your title and I would have only been your 'special friend'. Perhaps Iorveth might have tumbled from a rift first. There are infinite possibilities, but I am satisfied with this one.

Our moment.

( a hundred moments, and this one; the way that it has played out, but it hasn't played out, they've not ended up anywhere, they're still...happening. going. doing. love as verb. the stillness is comforting, but most of all in counterpoint—how far they've come. how far they've still to go.

with iorveth, hopefully. but the two of them, always.

archly: )

It'll do. You know—

That's what you wanted, wasn't it? What you said. Just quietly move in and make no fuss about it.

I am not attending the Arlathvhen because I expected to be shunned by all the Dalish for... no longer being discreet in regards to you. Although, [ he shrugs. ] I suppose they cannot blame me when their own children have taken up en masse with Men here.

Perhaps I will still have their love. They all know where my loyalties lie.

Maybe you've more rope with them than you thought. Or, well, there is that.

( to wit: fuck the dalish, they certainly all seem to be gagging for it. )

Do we even have any Dalish here with a leg to stand on, criticizing your choice of lovers?

Enough to hang myself with, [ dryly. he holds her tightly as he leans back, coming to lay down on the bed, turning on his side and minding her so that the two of them end up still curled against one another. ]

Beleth, [ he says. ] Sorrelean. Nahariel.

[ his favorites, clearly. ]

Nahariel, ( thoughtfully. ) Are you sure about that one?

( patented gwenaëlle 'i might know something you don't' baudin mock superiority tone. )

[ he answers it only with sadness. ]

Then the clan will die out, for there will be no elflings. All the elves of that generations will have left, or taken lovers that will lead to only elfblooded children.

Edited 2018-08-19 00:34 (UTC)

You mean what happened to my family.

( it is the best of all possible answers to that, of the things she might have said, which doesn't make it a good answer or a conversation useful to have. she extricates herself from his arms with a half-hearted pat of his shoulder that isn't entirely without sympathy, but—

that's a hard thing to muster sympathy for. she should unpack. or start cleaning up these flowers, since one of them actually has to sleep in this room while he's away. )

I distinctly remember your sisters being murdered, else your hatred of Celene is horridly misplaced, l[ ightly, forcing himself into good cheer. ] rather than what I expect is namely teenage rebellion. The shine will wear off, and then what? The Inquisition will not be around forever, and vallaslin is permanent.

I don't think you should be so dismissive,

( after a moment's pause, sweeping an armload of flowers from their places, )

Nahariel didn't sound to me like someone in the throes of rebellion. Unless, of course, you intend to say that feelings for humans are naturally less and like to fade.

( in all fairness: if she believed he might mean that, she'd never say it out loud. this is a fishing expedition for affection. )

[ wow, rude, he worked hard on those, and also, where is she going. ]

I do not doubt her, I doubt whatever fool she placed her heart in the care of, for I would trust no Man with the care of it and I would know if it was a Rifter.

[ because she needs it: ]

I will love you for the rest of time.

( she always needs to hear it, echoing around her cavernous heart; empty and overflowing both. upon consideration, passing the bed, she baps him in the face with a rose. )

I don't know who she was talking about, she didn't say. You might have a point.

( men are garbage. )

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