[He wants to weep, for the suffering she has endured. Her life is already so brief, and she spends fully half of it in the Fade, in chaos and uncontrolled madness where anything might happen and it is a blessing to have lost that half in a void of non-memory. They have so little, these mortals, and they are so wounded that they think that to have even less is normal.
Bad enough, for a stranger, but to imagine Beleth crippled thus, and to know that it has been so for her, all her life... The loss of a limb seems almost the kinder amputation.]
Ir abelas. I will endure, until— [There is a sound, soft but sharp, like an intruder at the window. On the sideboard table, built into the wall, they had left the two plump sacks of bones that had been awarded them in exchange for the gathered mushrooms. And now there was only one— the other had simply collapsed, its contents vanishing from inside with the sound of a collapsing pile.
Solas gasps, stricken, as it comes flooding back to him— first the burning under his skin, a lyrium prickle and the burn as old senses find their places. Then the world seems to expand, almost painfully stretched, a stiff muscle finally allowed to relax. Could it be that simple?]
I... Something has changed.
[Experimentally, he pulls back, one last gentle caress against her cheek in gratitude. His cupped hands between them, head bowed over them as if in prayer, and a tiny spark of veilfire lights itself from the aether, at his bequest. He laughs, a wet little giggle, full of tears, and extinguishes it, collapsing forward against her shoulder again. Whole.]
no subject
[He wants to weep, for the suffering she has endured. Her life is already so brief, and she spends fully half of it in the Fade, in chaos and uncontrolled madness where anything might happen and it is a blessing to have lost that half in a void of non-memory. They have so little, these mortals, and they are so wounded that they think that to have even less is normal.
Bad enough, for a stranger, but to imagine Beleth crippled thus, and to know that it has been so for her, all her life... The loss of a limb seems almost the kinder amputation.]
Ir abelas. I will endure, until— [There is a sound, soft but sharp, like an intruder at the window. On the sideboard table, built into the wall, they had left the two plump sacks of bones that had been awarded them in exchange for the gathered mushrooms. And now there was only one— the other had simply collapsed, its contents vanishing from inside with the sound of a collapsing pile.
Solas gasps, stricken, as it comes flooding back to him— first the burning under his skin, a lyrium prickle and the burn as old senses find their places. Then the world seems to expand, almost painfully stretched, a stiff muscle finally allowed to relax. Could it be that simple?]
I... Something has changed.
[Experimentally, he pulls back, one last gentle caress against her cheek in gratitude. His cupped hands between them, head bowed over them as if in prayer, and a tiny spark of veilfire lights itself from the aether, at his bequest. He laughs, a wet little giggle, full of tears, and extinguishes it, collapsing forward against her shoulder again. Whole.]