[closed] You showed me when I was young just how to grow

[arlathvhen]

WHO: Beleth and Galadriel
WHAT: After Beleth gets back from visiting the clan, she talks to Galadriel about Feelings
WHEN: Beginning of Harvestmire
WHERE: The garden in Skyhold
NOTES: talking about moms that kinda suck

For most of Beleth's life, Sorrel has been the only person that she could talk to about her mother. He's the only one who really understood, who knew what it was like to live with Deheune, all the ups and downs, the love and resentment. But her twin isn't here, and Beleth is left with emotional turmoil that she hasn't been able to deal with. Surely no one outside the clan would understand, none of them were Dalish. And yet, she can't go to her clanmates either. They have their own prejudices, and she can't bring herself to speak ill of the Keeper to them.

It occurs to her that there's one person she could potentially talk to. Someone she feels comfortable enough with, who isn't Dalish, but--she's surely close enough.

It takes some time for Beleth to pluck up the courage to actually go through with speaking to her. It's nerve-wracking, there's so much that could go wrong--Galadriel could tell her that she's being stupid, ungrateful to her mother. Or worse, she could get the wrong idea, like Zevran has, and think horrible things about her mother. But the doubts and worries eat at her regardless, and so, she approaches Galadriel in the gardens of Skyhold. Being surrounded by the greenery gives her some measure of comfort, enough to steel herself for the conversation.

"My Lady," She greeted Galadriel, bowing her head to the other woman. "May I...ask your advice? On something of a personal note."

Comments

[laurenande]

"My mother?" Galadriel repeated and both her brows rose just slightly. She considered the question in silence for a moment.

"My family is, perhaps, not ideal for comparisons," she admitted in a tone that was, if nothing else, extremely diplomatic. Beleth toyed with her scarf, her unease palpable, and Galadriel took pity on her.

"My mother's name is Eärwen. She was of the house of Olwë, niece of the king of the Sindar. My father is the son of the High King of the Noldor, king of the elves in the West.

"She is many things: beautiful, gracious, and lovely of voice, but her relationship with her children, with our family was...complex, when last I knew her mind. It is difficult to explain, but I will attempt it."

Galadriel ushered Beleth by the shoulder toward the gazebo. It was a more private location, enclosed on all sides by ivy and leaves; she expected it would be a comfort for her (if not for Galadriel, herself) to have this conversation in a less open space.

"Before the world fell into darkness, there was little reason for us to quarrel. When the first great tragedies occurred, however, our family was near the center of them all. I broke away from my parents, along with my brothers, and for my ambition I defied both her, my father, and the gods themselves. Of all of them, I suspect she was angriest. I was her only daughter, now her only living child, if she even knows of our fates."

[arlathvhen]

Beleth listens with rapt attention to the story Galadriel tells her--she would be interested in a tale from Arda no matter what, but the particular relevance to Beleth's own troubles ensures she's hanging onto every word, obediently letting herself be led to a more private location. It occurs to her that this is a deeply personal story for Galadriel, and she's touched that she's been allowed to hear it.

While the circumstances are truly different for both of them, there's an underlying similarity that Beleth is quick to pick up on.

"You left her, and what she wanted for you, to pursue your own dreams." That might be...projecting, a little, but close enough, surely. "Do you--do you regret that? That you didn't follow the path she wanted?" She found it hard to imagine anyone telling Galadriel what to do, particularly in that way Deheune did, where you felt like an idiot for even daring to question her. "I mean--a mother wants the best for her daughter, right? Even if it's hard to do--she wouldn't ask you to do it if it wasn't right." A sacrifice that wouldn't be asked for if she couldn't do it. An honor.

[laurenande]

Beleth had paid such careful attention to her account that Galadriel had been all but certain her questions would trend toward what made her mother angry. What she asked instead was unexpected and, indeed, something Galadriel wasn't certain how to answer. Beleth was an elf, but the answers to the questions she asked now were exceptionally personal. They were ancient secrets, older than the kingdoms of Thedas, and Galadriel held them closely.

But, perhaps, she should not guard them so well.

They held less weight here, in this place, than they did in Arda. There were none Beleth could repeat them to that would know how to exploit them, nor any with the will to do so.

Much as Beleth had, moments before, Galadriel paused on the cusp of a response. The time that passed then seemed to move very, very slowly.

"I am uncertain," she said earnestly. "I have few regrets in my life...but those I have are bitter and will haunt me ere the ending of days. All of them could have been avoided, had I not defied their wishes...but had I obeyed I would have gone without all the good that I have seen, all the people I have loved.

"The path I chose was right, and I would not choose otherwise even if I were given the decision once more, but so too was hers. I have spent ten thousand years wondering if our paths will combine once more, if I want them to, if I can truly be forgiven or if I will remain apart, and still I have no answers."

Galadriel fell into an uneasy sort of silence; it didn't set well on her shoulders and made her seem far more mortal and far younger than she was.

"Have you reached a crossroads, Beleth? Where you must choose between the path before you and the way that diverges toward your own ambition?"

[arlathvhen]

As before, even with Galadriel's pauses, the carefulness of her answers, Beleth listens intently, as though she intends to memorize the words. But even if there was someone who could use it for ill, she would keep this private revelation close to her heart, and away from her lips.

Certainly, she would tell no one of the way Galadriel seemed after--like some of that ethereal gleam had flacked off, leaving a woman who was less like an elvhen god come back and more like... Beleth herself. It is both enlightening and eerie, and yet she can't help but feel honored that it had been shown to her.

But now, it's her turn, and Galadriel's honesty deserves honesty in turn, for surely nothing Beleth faced matched what burdened the other woman.

"I--I don't know," No, that's not quite right. She hesitates, and tries again. "I don't know what my own ambition is, let alone which way it diverges." Another pause, as she tries to sort complicated thoughts into words. "My mother is...an exemplary leader. She has always been willing to do what must be done for the clan, for the People. Her thoughts are always with them. And she expects me to do the same--she believes in me, believes I can take this burden. And I have. I've structured my life, my goals, my plans, all on what is best for the Dalish, but--"

And suddenly, like a match thrown on a pile of leaves, that lifetime of resentment sparks a rare display of temper, and Beleth's voice begins to rise without her realizing. "She never asked what I wanted! No one did! Not until I came here! She picked out that path and told me to walk it, that it was an honor to walk it, and I did. I walked that damn path until I couldn't see any others. Maybe--" And now she's shouting, which is rather unreasonable, but that resentment is burning fast and hot, and quickly getting out of Beleth's control.

"--Maybe I'd like to be ambitious! But I don't even know what I want instead, because it was never a choice!"

[laurenande]

Beleth's anger rose through her as she spoke and Galadriel bore it as it spilled out between them. Her frustration was palpable and, in a way, very familiar. Once Beleth had completed her tirade, Galadriel reached forward and rested a hand on the young elf's shoulder.

"When I was young, I felt much as you do. I was frustrated with a life that was not...did not beg my resentment. I longed for acknowledgement, for options that would not come to me. It can take long years to find what you desire, and longer still to achieve it, to understand it, but it will happen."

Galadriel's hand, resting on her shoulder, squeezes just slightly before smoothing down to her arm. It is a strange gesture but one she'd given her daughter, her grandchildren, and it feels right to grant the same to Beleth.

"But having the freedom to find your ambition, to learn if you would like to ford another path, is not what troubles you. You worry your mother will disapprove of such things? And you love her, do you not?"

[arlathvhen]

By the time Galadriel reaches for Beleth, the anger that had been burning so hot and fast has already begun to fizzle out. Her flares of temper rarely last long, and this time is no different, leaving her feeling strangely hollow, and worried that she had overstepped some boundary with the Lady. It is one thing to ask for advice--it's entirely another to scream about your issues with your mother.

But Galadriel is as kind and composed as ever, and her touch visibly calms the younger elf. It's soothing, though almost odd. It's motherly, yet there's no chastisement--however gentle--about Beleth losing her temper, no reminders that emotional displays like that are better fit for small children. She can hear it in her head, but Galadriel only offers words of comfort.

She nods at the question, eyes down. Embarrassing, to have veered so far off the topic, and to do so quite as...loudly, as she had. "Of course I love her. She's my mother. She's always believed that I was capable of great things, of amazing things. I don't want to prove her wrong, and I don't want her to be disappointed in me. I know that sounds...contradictory. To, um. What I just said. It's complicated." She runs a hand through her hair, frowning as she tries to think of how, exactly, to word such tangled emotions.

"I love her, I do. And while I am not always happy how she decided what I would do, I know that she did it because she believes in me. And I don't want her to feel that belief was unfounded."

[laurenande]

"That is not so strange a fear, that your mother, that your loved ones will find your choices lacking," Galadriel reassured her. "Indeed, it is one I have felt for countless years, one that I feel even now.

"It is a difficult feeling to move through. It borders grief and longing so closely that, at times, it can seem indistinguishable from either of them."

Beleth calmed, gradually, and her gaze listed as she did. It was a shame and, in the moment, Galadriel was tempted to redirect her gaze, to place a hand on Beleth's face. She refrained; they were not so close that she could do such things, but the temptation lingered.

"But it would serve you to remember--serve us both to remember--that even the smallest actions can have a profound effect on the world. For all my years and power, it is not I who was fated to save my homeland. Aiding the Dalish is no small task, but it is not unbelievable that you could have a hand in the very heart of it.

"You are brave and true, Beleth. I can see it in your heart. You will do much."

[arlathvhen]

Her gaze does climb back up slowly, the more Galadriel speaks to her. When Galadriel finishes by complimenting her, she glances up to meet her eyes, looking surprised--but there's also a fervent admiration there. Lady Galadriel thought--knew--that she was brave and true. It was hard (impossible) to argue with something stated so clearly as fact, and Beleth has to spend a few moments with her mouth hanging open before she remembers to clamp it shut, and clears her throat.

"You are too kind, my Lady. I apologize if this is too bold to say, but...I can't imagine that, seeing you now, your mother would be anything but fiercely proud. You are one of the kindest, wisest people I have ever met--only your kinsman compares. And no human could dream of coming close." They all seemed plodding, clumsy fools, in comparison to Galadriel. Beleth gives her a smile, hands clasped together.

"I hope that I can become a fraction as extraordinary as you are, my Lady. If I do, then I think that I could do just about anything. I'm proud to hold you up as an example of what we are truly capable of." She pauses, glancing to the side thoughtfully, before turning back to Galadriel. "You're right, though. It's good to remember that I can help my people through means that don't involve moving mountains."