you'll know you're mine when the silence comes; adria, isobell

[leliana]

I rise from my scars. nothing hurts me now.

The woman before her—the nereid—is kind and soft and good. It is enough to earn all of Leliana’s trust, and even her company, which she does not dole out as freely as she once would have. There are many things that she should attend to, many things that she needs to ensure are in order, but instead she finds herself relaxing into this conversation—even if she gives no outward signal to such relaxing at all.

“I believe you are more than capable,” she says simply, her voice low and quiet. “But I would not ask you to do anything you did not feel compelled to do.” Leliana knows that she needs allies—she knows that she needs to find the strong who are willing to stand up—but she does not wish to compel them to do so. They should want to fight this war. Bleed in this battle. If they didn’t, she wouldn’t hold it against them.

Still, she recognizes a mother and a protector when she sees one, and it is obvious what lies within the other mare’s bones. So Leliana just nods, hearing her questions silently before offering an answer. “Loess is an epicenter of selfish, cruel behaviors.” Her voice is unusually hard, the edges of it cutting against her tongue. “During the plague, they took healers across Beqanna captive to keep themselves well.”

She swallows, trying to fight down the burning star that bursts into life within her.

“I was one of them.”

Her golden eyes glow, burning as she looks to Adria. She takes a deep breath, steadying herself and the intensity of her gaze lessens, even if slightly. “But let’s focus on your home for now.”

With another breath, a flutter of leaves at their feet, she teleports them across the water to Ischia. The sun begins to dip in the horizon and the water begins to glow blue at her feet. Somewhere—somewhere in the back of her mind—she feels alarm bells of memory. She remembers landing on these shores and looking for Dovev. She remembers following him to his home and sleeping beside him.

Somewhere, buried beneath the avalanche of new memories, she remembers that.

But she catches the sound of Adria breathing and the memory slips between her fingers. It is replaced with the sight of the woman of water and she focuses her attention on her again. 

“Welcome back home, Adria. Ischia is your family's once more.”

She sends out a ripple of power throughout the island, searching for the mare who last took up the mantle of Khaleesi—hunting for the Kelpie lady to at least let her know, should she be open to hearing.
 

@[Adria] | @[Isobell]