[Thedas is a mess, always was a mess, perhaps will always be a mess. Flemeth never taught her the courtesies of not pointing such things out, Leliana knows that better than most.
And Leliana's eyes? Better than some, that she will allow but is there any way to say such a thing without revealing her hand or being considered suspect, at least for now? No. No there is not so she swallows it, instead thinking about Kieran, about the lengths she has gone to. Kieran is not a nation, but Kieran is her world, her life, she is making him ready. That has to be something at the very least though if others think she's actually fit at parenting well that she can't answer because Alistair probably believes she teaches him nothing but terrible things, grooms him to be a monster.] Are any of the candidates likely to be free of politics and influence? A return to order.
[She doesn't actively seek chaos out, not exactly, but that's where anything worth having comes from. It doesn't come from logic and order, of something cold and calculated because there must always be a raw spark somewhere to prompt it. But in a way, she thrives on it, because then there's that room to do what she needs to, such as the gasps when she walks into the court of Orlais and takes advantage of everything in her favour to make herself a spot at Celene's side. This is when a witch is needed, the sort with secrets, with knowledge and power.
The ones bringing back old things from before they even named the Ages of the world.]
A joke could be made, about extreme times, extreme measures. Could you not win some to our side [what a strange thing to say, it almost makes her give herself a shake as she walks] with the story of that dream you had? There are those who like such stories. [Because that's how she met Leliana, the guise of a Chantry sister and a story when two Grey Wardens, a witch, and a dog all strode into a tavern and started a fight. What has followed since is almost disturbing in a way because even for a bard, assassination is more difficult to swing, at least on such a scale as the tales. And even allowing for the salt one must swallow with such things.] Alistair is woefully unprepared for everything in life, even a hole in a sock would have him searching for someone to take such a heavy burden from his shoulders. You might wish to give him some lessons in lurking though, he is as unobtrusive as he ever was.
[Which is to say lummox. Which is to say mouthbreather. Which is to say she can smell him from across the courtyard.]
Perhaps, what I speak of is…very old, something almost lost entirely, I went to great personal effort to retrieve it. [To repair it herself, voice gone down to a glassworker's rasp in Serault, coughing and coughing.] If I lose this…
[No, she doesn't want to think about that, not now, not when she has given it a name for the first time since the days when elves ruled the earth, when it was the sanctuary she so badly needed with someone so small depending upon her. How does one ever explain that without showing? And she can't show it, not yet at least, not when Skyhold is such an uproar.]
There is time enough, they will send word before they begin the ascent by which point I shall need a secure room with a good sturdy lock. Maybe an enchantment too, to be safe and certain. It can only be an advantage to have this with us though, the enemy will not suspect what we have, and here it should be far safer than remaining in Orlais.
[No that is not a smirk of triumph, why would she ever give Leliana such a look.]
To stand and lecture me about how many layers of taffeta to have beneath my skirts, the right shade of velvet, how low to cut the front, to better scandalise those delicate Orlesian sensibilities? [Did you think she'd forgotten that one Leliana?] Kieran's opinion was enough for me.
no subject
And Leliana's eyes? Better than some, that she will allow but is there any way to say such a thing without revealing her hand or being considered suspect, at least for now? No. No there is not so she swallows it, instead thinking about Kieran, about the lengths she has gone to. Kieran is not a nation, but Kieran is her world, her life, she is making him ready. That has to be something at the very least though if others think she's actually fit at parenting well that she can't answer because Alistair probably believes she teaches him nothing but terrible things, grooms him to be a monster.] Are any of the candidates likely to be free of politics and influence? A return to order.
[She doesn't actively seek chaos out, not exactly, but that's where anything worth having comes from. It doesn't come from logic and order, of something cold and calculated because there must always be a raw spark somewhere to prompt it. But in a way, she thrives on it, because then there's that room to do what she needs to, such as the gasps when she walks into the court of Orlais and takes advantage of everything in her favour to make herself a spot at Celene's side. This is when a witch is needed, the sort with secrets, with knowledge and power.
The ones bringing back old things from before they even named the Ages of the world.]
A joke could be made, about extreme times, extreme measures. Could you not win some to our side [what a strange thing to say, it almost makes her give herself a shake as she walks] with the story of that dream you had? There are those who like such stories. [Because that's how she met Leliana, the guise of a Chantry sister and a story when two Grey Wardens, a witch, and a dog all strode into a tavern and started a fight. What has followed since is almost disturbing in a way because even for a bard, assassination is more difficult to swing, at least on such a scale as the tales. And even allowing for the salt one must swallow with such things.] Alistair is woefully unprepared for everything in life, even a hole in a sock would have him searching for someone to take such a heavy burden from his shoulders. You might wish to give him some lessons in lurking though, he is as unobtrusive as he ever was.
[Which is to say lummox. Which is to say mouthbreather. Which is to say she can smell him from across the courtyard.]
Perhaps, what I speak of is…very old, something almost lost entirely, I went to great personal effort to retrieve it. [To repair it herself, voice gone down to a glassworker's rasp in Serault, coughing and coughing.] If I lose this…
[No, she doesn't want to think about that, not now, not when she has given it a name for the first time since the days when elves ruled the earth, when it was the sanctuary she so badly needed with someone so small depending upon her. How does one ever explain that without showing? And she can't show it, not yet at least, not when Skyhold is such an uproar.]
There is time enough, they will send word before they begin the ascent by which point I shall need a secure room with a good sturdy lock. Maybe an enchantment too, to be safe and certain. It can only be an advantage to have this with us though, the enemy will not suspect what we have, and here it should be far safer than remaining in Orlais.
[No that is not a smirk of triumph, why would she ever give Leliana such a look.]
To stand and lecture me about how many layers of taffeta to have beneath my skirts, the right shade of velvet, how low to cut the front, to better scandalise those delicate Orlesian sensibilities? [Did you think she'd forgotten that one Leliana?] Kieran's opinion was enough for me.