the heaviness in my heart belongs to gravity; kensley

[larke]

carried by the current of the morning
miles below the surface of the dawn

She doesn’t know how to interpret his silence.

Doesn’t know the first thing about the pain that he carries with him or the gravity of the situation that clings to his shoulders. He doesn’t answer her question and that strikes her as odd for a moment but then he asks about her mother and that brightens her expression just a little—turns her eyes upward.

“My mother is named Leliana,” she offers before she shakes her head, sending tendrils of her black hair flying. “But she wasn’t born in the Chamber. She was born on the Mountain when Beqanna was changing.” She frowns, trying to remember the names her mother has told her. “It was her mother who lived in the Chamber before that. I think her name was Victra?” Another roll of her shoulders.

“My mother used to tell me that we were descendants of Atrox and Twinge.”

The names are clumsy on her tongue—difficult for her in their strangeness, despite the fact that she had seen a glimpse of the black panther during the war on Tephra and then never since. “I’m sorry. I wish that I knew more.” She frowns, studying him, wishing she had what he needed. “My uncle,” a pause as she laughs, “well, not really my uncle, but his name is Magnus and he knows a lot more about the old Beqanna than I could. He lives on Tephra if you wanted to talk to someone about it.”

this is not the place that I was born in
but it doesn't mean it's not the place where I belong

larke