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Oct. 14th, 2015 02:45 am
ombranera: (Default)
[personal profile] ombranera


I will write back as soon as possible.

Regards, Zevran

Date: 2016-05-14 08:05 pm (UTC)
fightingale: (pic#10150968)
From: [personal profile] fightingale
"That is hardly playing fair," she informs the little bundle, pouting at him a little, exaggerated, before gently tickling his tummy with the pad of her forefinger.

For a moment she just looks at Zevran in silence, expression softening, mouth catching with something that doesn't quite make it to a smile.

"You can. You would never do to him what was done to you. And finding family when you had none... surely that is too great an opportunity to pass up."

Date: 2016-05-16 01:15 pm (UTC)
fightingale: (pic#10150958)
From: [personal profile] fightingale
"It is you who urges me not to give up all that is past. Perhaps you should extend yourself the same advice, hm? Those possibilities need not have been set aside permanently."

It is a kindness, a generosity, that she would extend to her people before she would council herself the same way, but she can accept she is a hypocrit if it helps people. Necessity, always.

"Besides, fear is what keeps life interesting, hm?"

Date: 2016-05-19 10:02 am (UTC)
fightingale: pb! inquisition era. (well we don't do that in orlais)
From: [personal profile] fightingale
Of all the things he could have possibly said, that is not what she would expect.

"Me?"

After all that has been said between them, or not said. After she has become something he would appear to consider something repugnant, dangerous - a corruption of a sweet girl he once knew.

But she can protect, and viciously. She is a woman of faith, she understands what freedom is and what it means. There are benefits to having connections to those in power, and yet she does not think that is why Zevran is asking this.

It hurts, but in a better way than most hurts tend to strike. "I would be honoured, Zevran."

Date: 2016-05-19 05:56 pm (UTC)
fightingale: (pic#10010461)
From: [personal profile] fightingale
It would be a bad time to mention how shaken her faith has been these past months, with all that has happened. At the root of it, though, her love for the Maker remains. It is the Chantry that she has truly lost faith in, the cruelty that they impress upon others so relentlessly, but that is a topic for another time, and she simply nods.

"He could share a basket with Schmooples," Leliana says very lightly, before she cants her head very slightly, fixing Zevran with a look that's somewhere between-- somewhere between gratitude and understanding and certainty, because she would. She would raise him kindly, and she would guard him viciously.

"And you are my brother." It is not easy to say; she manages to make it sound as if there were nothing more natural for her to give voice.

Date: 2016-05-22 08:15 pm (UTC)
fightingale: (pic#9839083)
From: [personal profile] fightingale
"Zia?" Her Antivan is good, but used more for war than for more familiar types of terms. Affection is not much her repertoire, neither family. It takes her only a moment, deduction and de-rusting her understanding. "Aunt?"

He is her brother, and yet. That surprises her.

"And Schmooples will be his cousin, hm?"

Emotions are hard bro.

Date: 2016-05-23 07:37 pm (UTC)
fightingale: pb! inquisition era. (well we don't do that in orlais)
From: [personal profile] fightingale
The lean-- the contact. It is more than she is used to, more than she seeks, and there is a rigidness that creeps up her back with it. Not visibly noticeable, but there all the same. Familiarity feels a great thing to offer out - it is easier to extend it to a child, an innocent, than to someone who knows her.

"I should go." Not sparked by the contact, but it certainly encourages it being given voice. She lightly tickles Luciano's belly, before turning to pass him back to his father. "There is much to be done - I will see to the frost rune."

A moment, and-- "You can count on my discretion."

If nothing else, she can be relied on for that.

Date: 2016-05-25 09:40 am (UTC)
fightingale: (pic#10150958)
From: [personal profile] fightingale
Morrigan told her in the Crossroads that she wondered if people touches so much because communication with words so often fell horribly short. Leliana wishes sometimes that contact did not communicate so much, and she does not lean into the touch at her cheek, but keeps it as light as possible, as meaningless as she can render it without pulling away and hurting her friend.

"The Rookery provides me with nothing if not an abundance of fresh air, do not worry."

Date: 2016-05-28 11:39 am (UTC)
fightingale: (pic#10010449)
From: [personal profile] fightingale
"It is not that I do not deserve," she replies, and perhaps there is a little too much crispness to it. "I do not want more. What I want is to see Thedas reshaped into a better world."

More often than not she can believe that, because it is so close to being true, and wanting more feels like--

"Do not fret, Zevran. My trespasses are gladly embraced."

Date: 2016-05-29 09:05 pm (UTC)
fightingale: (pic#9839083)
From: [personal profile] fightingale
What more is there to say that she has not already. Her brow pinches, the faintest flicker before she smoothes it away.

"I know," Leliana replies, with a certainty that could be quietly unnerving, for some. Catching Zevran's gaze, she offers a shadow of what could have been a smile, maybe, before going for the door.

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Zevran Arainai

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