justice_is_blond: (Justice for Karl)
Anders ([personal profile] justice_is_blond) wrote in [community profile] faderift2016-06-18 10:28 pm

Let No Soul Hunger For Justice: And I'm Telling You I'm Not Going

WHO: Adelaide, Anders, Bethany, Cole, Cyril, Isabela, Kain, Leliana, Maria, Merrill, Nathaniel, Velanna
WHAT: It's the final countdown, the fifth ritual attempt to defeat Justice.
WHEN: Justinian 19th
WHERE: About 30 minutes outside of Skyhold
NOTES: Violence, death of a character. There's no tag order, plotting post is here.




The clearing is worse for wear. There's burn marks, spots where the earth has been torn apart, and some of the ruins are a little more ruined.

fightingale: (pic#10150951)

[personal profile] fightingale 2016-06-22 06:50 am (UTC)(link)
"These are not easy questions to answer, nor are they ones I can let rest easily," she admits, after a long pause. She is not immediately certain how to respond to Anders' confession. "I can only think that magic is a gift from the Maker, that mages have continued to be born with their connection to the Fade because it is something sacred in and of itself. The Maker granted us free will, and we have seen that the Chant itself it shaped by man - the Canticle of Shartan chosen for exclusion, each verse committed to ink by living hands, not divine. I think that Circles and all those atrocities are the creations of man seeking to control and to manipulate, if not outright abuse. The Maker cannot control His creation - that is not what he wished for us."

Her gaze drops, unhappy. "But men are not so benevolent as our Maker. There are those who make sport in the suffering of others." Even now, a decade and more beyond it, Harwen Raleigh's voice echoes clear in her head. "They have their fun bending others to their mercy, or lack of it."

It is not a full answer, she has more to say, but she is aware she has said much and that Anders might wish to make a response of his own before she launches into more of her own words. In some ways she truly is changed from the girl of the Fifth Blight, who talked without end.
fightingale: (pic#10150975)

[personal profile] fightingale 2016-06-27 01:32 pm (UTC)(link)
"I don't believe that. How is He to intervene and to control? How do we know what form His actions would take? Believing that the Maker could ignore so much suffering..." She trails off. In death Your will is written, words of the Chant that haunted her, that shook her to her very depths as she considered them.

Anders words are conciliatory, at least, and Leliana tries to weigh her own with silence. "I wonder if He made our world for us, and endeavours to have faith in us as we do in Him. There have been times, with all that has happened, all the horrors that I have seen and those that I have only heard of... I wondered, for a time after the Conclave, if death is all that faith brings us. If that is the only true certainty that lies before us."

Leliana shakes her head. "It cannot be, though. My heart tells me, as it has since first I came to the Maker, that He and His Bride love us dearly, and that we are all cherished. No matter where we come from, who we are or what we have done, He loves us and treasures us. I wonder if it is we who need to learn to love one another better, rather than expecting him to smite our enemies down."

Her smile, however, is sad. "Fine words for a Spymaster, no?" A mistress of death and shadows and secrets. Until such time as love will save them, all she has are certainties, and how she can secure them, how she can eliminate threats.
Edited (being picky about words a tiny bit) 2016-06-27 13:34 (UTC)
fightingale: (pic#9839080)

[personal profile] fightingale 2016-07-06 01:28 pm (UTC)(link)
For a long while Leliana is silent. It is hardly unusual for her; she enjoys silences. Sometimes she enjoys them simply because they are a reprieve from the burdens of speaking and listening to other people speak, sometimes because of what she can learn from them, and other times they are simply another kind of sound. They are a space to absorb. As she steps over an uneven path of hard dirt and insistent, twisting roots and half buried stones, Leliana keeps her gaze ahead and simply keeps watching and listening.

Interesting words. "Any manner of blindness could be considered so," she agrees. The suggestion of a loss of thinking, of reason - it was terrifying, in a way. Blindness even from a lack of information was horrifying to her, the knowledge of how suddenly a situation could escalate, what the absence of understanding could mean. She remembers how suddenly Halamshiral unfolded, and if she were not herself she would shudder.

"Believing in other people is just as important. If the Chantry could be such that people believed in the merit of the people and their goodness and kindness rather than having its will forced upon them, I think it would be much improved. The good it could do-- the Chantry as it is does not, I think, inspire love of each other, nor of the Maker. And it is as you say - if we cannot love one another, how are we to believe the Maker capable of loving us?"