( closed ) No longer I can justify the bloodshed in his name

[fightingale]

WHO: Leliana & various closed threads (for now - open stuff later)
WHAT: Wicked Grace night goes horribly wrong and Leliana is kind of dying
WHEN: forward dated to the night of the 22nd, post-assassination attempt
WHERE: Leliana's creepy Rookery chamber place
NOTES:
1. Pretentious images in the main post and starters in the comments because I'm a bit ridiculous.

2. Content warning for attempted murder/violence/poison/all that implies.

3. Party style threading is welcome and encouraged, it might make it a bit easier to discuss side matters after the initial discovery.

4. This will probably open up for including other threads and stuff that can be forward dated, but initially just closed.

5. There will be some terrible poetry in here and I'm not even sorry; it is only one in a series that will be left around Skyhold and will be posted later. Belle, Jansen & Libby are beautiful humans for enduring my rambles.

Comments

[fightingale]

The scout does not quirk an eyebrow. She turns away, moves few steps, and folds her hands in front of her to allow the Nightingale and her-- friend some semblance of privacy.

Leliana, for her part, holds herself up as best she can. Proud, stubborn, strong - the nails digging into her skin are grounding, and though she is struggling, she nods. Morrigan is right. Morrigan knows her, in this. If anything was going to defeat a Bard of Orlais, let along the Nightingale, it would not be poetry. There is a smile, very thin and largely for Morrigan's benefit, but it is a smile all the same.

She is glad to rest her head against Morrigan's, even if only of a moment, before she nods. She nods, knocks on the bedframe to regain the scout's attention, and forces herself to sit up for the last vial. She will endure. She is the Nightingale, and she will endure.