United, We Can Take on the World {Leliana}

[leliana]

I see a ghost out on the water; I swear it has my face
I bend and drink the lonely down, the lonely down

There is something in their youthful excitement that touches her heart, and she finds herself calming as the fear drips from their eyes to be replaced with curiosity and joy. The ease with which they feel their emotions, letting them race through their young bodies is enough to cause her to ache with nostalgia, wishing for the days when such feelings were so easy to feel—so easy to let go. Back then, emotions were simple to comprehend and simple to control. They did not warp her entire being. They did not drown her.

She doesn’t place such a heaviness on their interaction though.

Instead, she gives them an easy smile—her hazel eyes soft and kind. “It is a kind thing to worry for your sibling,” she thinks of Exist and the ways that they have worried for each other over the years—the way that they have fretted over their decisions and their lives, the ways that they have watched from afar. “You should hold that close,” a curl of her crimson velvet lips. “It is the most precious gift you can ask for.”

Their question is almost enough to drag out the ghosts, but she refuses them entry—refuses to give them access to such a precious, soft moment with the twins. “Mostly,” she hedges her answer, not wanting to be dishonest with the foals but not seeing any reason to burden them with her past. “Some of my favorite memories are here with my sister and my uncle.” Magnus is not quite her uncle, but it is close enough.

Her wings ruffle as they notice and her face visibly breaks for a second—the sorrow clear as she latches onto their meaning. It is short-lived though, she makes it so, instead quickly tucking it away so that they do not bear witness to the orphan within her reacting. “My wings have a mind of their own,” she simply answers, glancing back to the whimsically colored feathers. “Watch.” With a quick shake, they spread from her and morph—turning first to red leather and ivory claw, dragon wings massive in scope. With another quick shake, they turn to frost, the ice crystallizing on the hard edges, and then to fire, the flames licking up them. Finally, she brings them back to her sides in their typical red down.

“I’m not your mother,” she forces herself to answer when the silence draws out.

“But I would very much like to be your friend.”

I’m gonna stand here in the ache until the levee on my heart breaks