"I would not presume," Araceli agrees easily enough without sounding offending. There are no elves where she hails from and there might be overlaps in pains and hurts and problems but they aren't quite the same; she will offer support, her voice, if and when she is ever asked, and a place for them to speak, but she would never presume to speak for them. Elfblooded then, at least she does know enough to know of them without having to ask any awkward question. "I am entirely human. Looking around Skyhold? I realise that in comparison to so many my life has been one where I have been very fortunate. There is not a day where I do not give thanks for that." Not a life of ease, not a life free of hurts, but she has been spared so much violence and pain that it drives her to do more, to do all that she can to help.
"Did word ever reach the White Spire of the Annulment of Dairsmuid? Rivain is a port, the Inquisition had freed slaves in Antiva not so many months ago; sailors talk, I know my blood very well in that respect. Some of their loved ones came to me after a long day of studying their traditions to speak with me late into the night." Araceli recognises an interrogation, even a tentative friendly one over drinks and dinner. "The next day they came with the journal of First Enchanter Rivella they had smuggled out of that place. Seekers and Templars had come across the bay from Ayesleigh to slaughter them though some escaped, survived, hid in the wilds with those who would give shelter. Rogue--"
Her lip curls, she comforts herself in the steady motions of smoothing Herian's hair. Sorting tangles layer by layer as she sweeps a finished section over her shoulder to unpin the next and get to work. A shuddering breath escapes her before she can continue. It still aches and it isn't entirely her hurt.
"Rogue Templars were hunting them and they could not get to safety. I had to call for aid from the Inquisition, that they would come without delay before more lives were lost."
no subject
"Did word ever reach the White Spire of the Annulment of Dairsmuid? Rivain is a port, the Inquisition had freed slaves in Antiva not so many months ago; sailors talk, I know my blood very well in that respect. Some of their loved ones came to me after a long day of studying their traditions to speak with me late into the night." Araceli recognises an interrogation, even a tentative friendly one over drinks and dinner. "The next day they came with the journal of First Enchanter Rivella they had smuggled out of that place. Seekers and Templars had come across the bay from Ayesleigh to slaughter them though some escaped, survived, hid in the wilds with those who would give shelter. Rogue--"
Her lip curls, she comforts herself in the steady motions of smoothing Herian's hair. Sorting tangles layer by layer as she sweeps a finished section over her shoulder to unpin the next and get to work. A shuddering breath escapes her before she can continue. It still aches and it isn't entirely her hurt.
"Rogue Templars were hunting them and they could not get to safety. I had to call for aid from the Inquisition, that they would come without delay before more lives were lost."