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[rowancrowned]

 

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[elegiaque]

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?

[rowancrowned]

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. ]

[elegiaque]

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

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

[rowancrowned]

[ 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.

[elegiaque]

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. )

[rowancrowned]

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.

[elegiaque]

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. )

[rowancrowned]

[ 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.

[elegiaque]

( 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. )