Entry tags:
( closed ) it is time we were together
WHO: Herian & Cosima
WHAT: a talk
WHEN: a week or two after the return to the Gallows
WHERE: Gallows library & ?
NOTES: reference to violence & recent trauma, possibly description of gross injuries?
WHAT: a talk
WHEN: a week or two after the return to the Gallows
WHERE: Gallows library & ?
NOTES: reference to violence & recent trauma, possibly description of gross injuries?
She feels as though she were made up of smoke, that is the wind dragged at her too hard she might disappear. Herian is not entirely certain how she might manage all this; the understanding more, day by day, the impacts of the battle, the weight of what they might need to do to win the war, and what will become of things if they do win. Will there be Circles once more? Will elves have better lives alongside humanity? Will the Chantry still have its grasp, will Orlais settle back to itself, will there be change or will this be more akin to a strange pause and shuffling before all falls back to what it once was? If there are changes, will the world be better or will there be new monstrosities?
Being shrouded in dark colours is not necessarily unusual for the Ambassador, but slowly she had been starting to wind in bolts of brighter colour. Now she is all in shades of grey and black, a mark of respect for their fallen. She would have woven forget-me-knots, but they have been dormant since the first frost— nothing to be done, on that count. Around her neck hangs the necklace Cosima gave her, the reminder of mercy.
Walking quickly until she reaches the library, Herian stops at the doorway, resumes walking at a slower, more respectful pace for a place of learning, looking between the stacks until she spots Cosima at a table and walks towards her. Very softly, Herian calls out so that she doesn't startle her with her approach. "Cosima."
She is still a little too pale, her right shoulder still recovering and wrapped up beneath her clothes, but at first glance she seems well. Her hand, at least, is whole and only a little stiff rather than needing bandaging. That's an improvement.

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Not her strongest or most resilient, certainly not her happiest, but she is enough that she can get through the days, and that will do. Still, they have agreed to be more honest, have they not? More specifics, less vagueries, that has been the way of these past months. "I will be glad when my shoulder is recovered, though. My patience for it is wearing thin."
With a very slight smile, self-reproach. "And you? Am I interrupting?"
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She doesn't want to push, but suspects the air could do them some good, even if the weather isn't entirely ideal.
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Perhaps that's sufficient so far as why yes, that's exactly what I was hoping for-type replies go. She's feeling stronger, and vulnerable in the same breath; she cannot speak for how Cosima is feeling, but she has long thought that Cosima's strength lay in her willingness to be vulnerable, and her willingness to embrace that in others, as well. See beyond it as a weakness, and consider it a map for better understanding. There were many reasons Cosima was remarkable, really.
"Would you like to walk up to the ramparts?"
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As they go, she says, "It was so weird here, while everyone was gone. I mean, not everyone, obviously, but the Gallows felt really empty." It still feels empty, in some ways, but most of those are personal rather than institutional. The particular people, not the number of people.
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A look to Cosima, then. "It must have been hard, to have so many gone." Are you alright? seems a foolish question, almost. None of them are alright. "Is it less weird, now?"
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If Cosima disappeared, as her sister had. As others who had been here longer had. She meant to watch Sarah, to keep track of her, and she had not. It did not all fall to her, and perhaps none of it did, but it was an unhappy weight.
She draws Cosima closer to an alcove, hidden away between the stacks, so she can face her, look at her. "Cosima, you are the dearest person to me in this world entire. I— fear not letting you know. Not— showing you. Every day seems to show more and more dangers about us, but I know I'm stronger and kinder for having you with me. I do not... ever wish you to be in doubt of how important you are to me."
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"There is something very particular I'd like to ask you. I— I do not wish to rush you in your reply, nor... nor imply that there is only one answer I will accept."
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"Let's go to the ramparts. You can take my cloak." Save them the detour, allow her to be chivalrous - she's already unfastening it.
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"I accept full responsibility." So serious, so severe.
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“We should see more cities. Explore and get into mischief together.”
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"Where would you want us to go?"
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Looking over towards Kirkwall, she's quiet as she considers. "I think... Starkhaven, first. I would like for you to see my city, and my home. Although—"
A moment of hesitation, solely to take a breath, "although when you meet members of my family, I would be... especially happy if it were to meet people who were your family, as well."
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"...Herian?" Because she thinks she knows what Herian is getting at, but it'd been so far from her mind that it's necessary to make sure before she does something ridiculous like cry.
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"I— am not familiar with the traditions of your home, although I suspect that tradition is of little concern to you," she continues, gently conspiratorial, as she draws something from her pocket. "I found this in my mother's books. She pressed it with flowers." In her palm rests a wooden ring, though Herian trails her finger over a braided grass loop that has been set and sealed into a carved depression in the wood. "Would—"
She inhales, exhales, and gently takes Cosima's hand. "My life is so much richer for having you in it, and I— there is nothing I wish for more than to be always at your side."
Say it. Don't lose nerve now, don't falter. "Will you marry me?"
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(Eventually they'd need to figure out what that could even mean, but that was for later.)
She's mumbling against Cosima's lips, not bothering to pull back from the kiss, "this means you have to come running in the mornings." Quiet, teasing, as she kisses Cosima again.
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"You absolutely can. Anything you like."
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Rolling the ring between her fingers, she gently catches Cosima's left hand. "If you've any desire for discretion, I won't begrudge you wishing to wear this about your neck." Gently, because, well. The Gallows are a little judgy.
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Marrying a rifter is no longer unprecedented, technically, but it's still something that's going to be complicated. Especially since Cosima's not especially interested in converting.
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“There will be challenges, no doubt, but trepidation and anxiety cannot cheapen this, I promise you.” A tilt of her head. “Coupe will likely... caution both of us. Others may do the same, though I suspect I will be the one receiving menacing warnings about protecting you.”
Those last few words are spoken with a certain dramatic flair.
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(She does imagine what Sarah would say, briefly... and then promptly puts that out of her mind.)
"We're gonna have to think about how to play it, you're the head of Dipomacy, but if it were up to me, we'd just elope, honestly."
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Not a concept that's wholly foreign, entangled as it was with that desire for Tranquility and the fear of what she could become. She nudges Cosima gently, a little reassurance that it's not a fear pressing on Herian. Certainly she's careful, aware of herself and her moods, but that fear is not deeply rooted as it once was.
She makes a quiet sound of agreement, and kisses Cosima's temple and staying close. "We don't need to rush our decisions or make a grand announcement. If people ask, we can tell them, but— we have a little time, I think."
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"Maybe I'll read up on Thedosian wedding traditions in the meantime."
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She didn't envy the headaches and pressure Gwenaëlle has endured in the past months. It was something she might take on for herself, if she had to, but she would far sooner avoid it. All the more important, she'd rather spare Cosima being made into some sort of spectacle.
A little smile, with that. "And traditions from your home that you want honoured, promise me you'll tell me of those?"
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