WHO: Ellis + OTA WHAT: Homecoming WHEN: Guardian WHERE: Kirkwall NOTES: Thread collection. Closed and open starters in the comments. Holler if you want something bespoke or drop in a wildcard, I'll roll with it.
"I would. People with eyes open, aware of the risks. Not as we have been. Closed and secretive and fighting amongst ourselves to what ends? To become puppets, and not to rally against it?"
She opens her hands, closes them. Frowns at nothing. "I believe that to allow the Grey Wardens to whither and die in this war is not an option, or at least neither a safe nor sane one; the possibility of Blight looms ever-present, still. Do I think that we will be able to stop Corypheus?" Adrasteia shakes her head. "Once, perhaps, before..." Before Adamant. Before she stopped believing in the ability of the Grey Wardens to continue as they'd begun.
"But I have to believe there will be something after this war. And I believe that Wardens will have a role in protecting Thedas again."
Here, a little flurry of rebuttals might present themselves.
Ellis knows there are perhaps Wardens rallying. He knows where he might find them as well, and that the Commander may give him leave to chase after that trail.
He knows too that she is unorthodox. That the thread running through all of this leads back to that.
And he knows that he is—
Angry? If that is the thing stirring deep in his chest, it is slow-moving, stirred to life by the revelation first that Richard had brought all of this to her, and further, to skirt along the lines of something that feels very much like transgression, even if their Order is fractured. It cinches like a vise. Ellis remains very still, looking back at her.
"You are not the First Warden, Adrasteia," is economical, slicing at the concept she skirts towards.
The future of the Wardens is far off, too uncertain a thing to grapple with. Ellis can only see small ways forward, small repairs that might heal the whole. But even then, he cannot see reconcile himself to what Adrasteia hints at.
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She opens her hands, closes them. Frowns at nothing. "I believe that to allow the Grey Wardens to whither and die in this war is not an option, or at least neither a safe nor sane one; the possibility of Blight looms ever-present, still. Do I think that we will be able to stop Corypheus?" Adrasteia shakes her head. "Once, perhaps, before..." Before Adamant. Before she stopped believing in the ability of the Grey Wardens to continue as they'd begun.
"But I have to believe there will be something after this war. And I believe that Wardens will have a role in protecting Thedas again."
no subject
Ellis knows there are perhaps Wardens rallying. He knows where he might find them as well, and that the Commander may give him leave to chase after that trail.
He knows too that she is unorthodox. That the thread running through all of this leads back to that.
And he knows that he is—
Angry? If that is the thing stirring deep in his chest, it is slow-moving, stirred to life by the revelation first that Richard had brought all of this to her, and further, to skirt along the lines of something that feels very much like transgression, even if their Order is fractured. It cinches like a vise. Ellis remains very still, looking back at her.
"You are not the First Warden, Adrasteia," is economical, slicing at the concept she skirts towards.
The future of the Wardens is far off, too uncertain a thing to grapple with. Ellis can only see small ways forward, small repairs that might heal the whole. But even then, he cannot see reconcile himself to what Adrasteia hints at.