[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]

It always gladdened her heart to speak to the Dalish--to any elves, truly. She had never lived among men, not for so long a time as she'd spent in Thedas, and being constantly faced with their mannish nature was taxing. Her cousins in these lands were odd, on occasion, but they were elven. There was something familiar in them, something calming, and she savored it.

Beleth came upon her as she tended to a late-blooming set of flowers and, as the elf bowed, Galadriel inclined her head in turn.

"Advice is a dangerous gift, one I rarely give, but I will gladly listen. If I can help you, I will."

Galadriel regarded their surroundings--they were private enough without exerting power to make them moreso--then returned her gaze to Beleth.

"Tell me, what troubles you?"