And the lights, they glow, Like I just lost the world war

[fightingale]

WHO: Leliana & Brosephine; besties bruh it's a log for besties
WHAT: listen we're both drunk don't expect much Leliana being a paranoid jerk because of EMOTION although she doesn't have feelings because she is PROFESSIONAL
WHEN: time is a concept imposed by man and thus irrelevant
WHERE: josie's quarters
NOTES: I hope this still makes sense tomorrow tbh


Leliana is not at ease. Leliana is rarely at ease, these days. Betrayals from those she would deem most trusted. Zevran, though, would seem no more than the assassin he was raised to be, though she believed to be so much more. Alistair absorbed by the Wardens, though always they had been bound by their fights and their experiences, if not their beliefs.

Josephine is someone who she might trust better, for knowing her before she fled to a Chantry. Equally so, perhaps, because she met Josephine when she was still a bard, when Marjolaine still guided the beat of her heart and she was still truly hers. When someone shaped you so completely, could you be anything but?

(And on some days, the darkest ones, those that she did not care to give voice or acknowledgement. She met Leliana when she was so enchanted by Marjolaine, when she could talk for hours about how she was strong and beautiful but never pretty nor delicate, and sometimes she has those moment of dread where she wonders if Josephine has any true notion of who Leliana is, or if she knows only illusions warped by circumstance.)

And so she finds herself sitting in Josie's quarters, waiting for the diplomat and the Inquisition's true voice to arrive.

Only when Josie is in her room does Leliana speak, never mind the light or much else.

"Josie."

No one ever accused the Spymaster of being anything other than 'dramatic.'

Comments

[fightingale]

The flames cast a flickering pattern on Josephine's clothes, warm orange and yellow against the rich cloth. Leliana, herself, hangs back in the shadows of the room, but does not fully evade the light, so that it catches the texture of her chain mail and her greaves. It is not good to see Josephine looking so tired. It occurs to her that she could get sick if she overexerts herself, and Leliana frowns at the realisation that these are some of the scant hours the Ambassador has to sleep. Even so, this cannot simply be left unacknowledged, undiscussed.

"Is that not what the Chantry has tried to do?" Leliana's voice is bitter; she makes no effort to hold it back. "Andraste's movement against tyranny has established itself as the new home of tyrants. The Chantry would reduce the elves the nothing, see mages shackled and abused. The Chantry lost its goals long ago. They have condemned Thedas to selfishness and cruelty."

Her voice grows softer, when next she speaks. "The change Justinia wanted was not enough," she admits, very soft. The ultimatum she gave Celene had damned the elves of Halamshiral. The peace for mages would never have been as much as what was truly necessary, truly deserved. "It feels sometimes that we must see it unravelled completely, and to what end? To create more instability? But-- would that not be justified, for the hope of making a world where all could be free? Where all could live unafraid, not dreading what may befall them simply for their blood or their gifts."

[theproperglove]

Josephine can see the truth in what Leliana is saying, although it does make her wonder what has happened to her in the years that they have been apart to change her like this. She is certain that Leliana understands the extent of the method she is proposing, and it worries Josephine to think that Leliana might have thought through all the flaws and yet considered them justified.

She decides that she must know for certain, and thus asks the question that is now on the forefront of her mind. "What of the people alive now? Do they not deserve to live life unafraid, free of tyranny? If it meant a brighter future for Thedas... would we become the tyrants?"

[fightingale]

"I do not see why the people in Thedas now should endure the discrimination and cruelty," Leliana replies, moving a little closer, voice turning more pensive. She is so used to crafting her conversations, her tone and her expressions. This is not so simple as being genuine. It is an assessment of what she could do and how she would act if she were simply open, and acting in such a way - it is not so impulsive as being genuine and open, outright.

"No life is without value, but no great gains can be made without great risk. None should suffer for change, but it if changes are not made then the suffering will only amplify."

Her voice is low and rough - tired, perhaps. "I would not see us become tyrants." And yet... what if that is what they are doomed to be, some horrifying cycle of behaviour? "We can weigh and discuss and deliberate all day, and all we might have to show for it are opportunities and ground lost."

[theproperglove]

"And what is the alternative? To act rashly, without thinking of the consequences of our behaviour?" She's not looking at Leliana as she says this, her eyes instead trained on the opposite wall, because she is not thinking of Leliana at this moment but of Cassandra, whose recent actions had mostly made everything more difficult.

She droops slightly, trying to quell the anxious tension that is now crowding her chest, thrumming in her blood. "Surely there must be another choice, another option, something we have not yet thought of."

Looking up at Leliana properly now, Josephine's gaze hardens and her fingers bunch in the sheets beneath her hands; she feels so angry but so useless.

"I refuse to believe anything else."

[fightingale]

"Perhaps." But she does not believe it, and she does not doubt that it is given away in the schooled neutrality of her tone. It seems too easy, that there is simply another way. More and more she wonders if anything that is worth achieving in this world can be done without blood and brutality.

It is no good to see Josie so tense, so harsh, and she steps forward to lay her hands, gloved and armoured as they are, on her friend's shoulders. For Josie she can be kinder, gentler, than she can be with others. Josie deserves the better things in this world, not all its burdens. "If anyone could find such a way, it would be you. And you will not be alone in your search."

She is not sure of it, but her friends are rare - rarer, now - and precious. She cannot see them suffer for their ideals, or her own.