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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    the knife in my heart couldn't slow me down; ryatah
    #1
    I rise from my scars. nothing hurts me now.

    Politics have never been Leliana’s forte. She never truly considered herself getting involved and she therefore never spend much time trying to learn the ropes of it. She was more interested in learning how to master her own healing powers, in spending time with her sister watching the waves come in—and, if she is being honest, tangled with the drama that seemed to follow here wherever she went.

    It was more than enough to occupy her time.

    But now—well, now she does not have such luxuries. Now, she finds herself with a crown atop her brow and a cause burning in her chest and a sword just waiting for her to pick it up. She finds herself breathing war into Beqanna, with enemies and political intrigue that she has never been able to truly sort out. Even with all of her gifts and powers—even with this newfound strength—she knows she cannot do it alone.

    She needs allies and warriors but, perhaps more importantly, she needs advisors. She needs those that she can trust to see what she cannot. Those with experience in such things. Perhaps it is this more than anything that has her seeking out the company of the pale mare. Leliana arrives by her side with flowers blooming in her mane, her golden eyes studying the mare’s face without trying to hide her curiosity.

    “Ryatah,” she says her name softly, not needing volume for her voice to carry anymore. Once upon a time, she would have asked how she was. how she felt, how her children were. She would have focused on family and love and friendship above all else, but such sensibilities have been burned out of her now. Instead she just stands, quiet and stoic, the plants at her feet beginning to wind up her legs.

    “I assume you have heard.”

    She doesn’t specify what. She doesn’t feel like explanation is necessary—not anymore.



    @[Ryatah]
    [Image: avatar-1975.gif]
    the heaviness in my heart belongs to gravity
    #2

    Ryatah was nearly born into politics, but she has long since faded from the scene. She came from a land somehow even more cutthroat than Beqanna, where rank and stature were held in an even higher regard. Here, kingdoms and politics were an avenue for fame and glory, but they were not the only way. In the Dimension, there was nothing outside of the realms – and you were nothing if you did not succeed within them. She had come here with that same mentality – amongst other things that she carried with her from there. Countless years were spent entwining herself into the workings of Beqanna, until she felt as though her heart belonged more to the Valley than it ever could have belonged to anyone else – so much so that she hadn’t hesitated to leave it behind when asked to lead the Dale in its name.

    But when that tight hold on her finally loosened, when she slowly allowed herself to fade into nothing, she found that it was nearly impossible to get back into it. The kingdoms that she knew were gone, and along with them went all of her history, it seemed. It had been difficult to grasp, at first, to go from always having someplace to be, to suddenly being absolutely nothing. But the chaos of her personal life soon overshadowed all else, and even though she had grown fond of Tephra, she had remained in the background at best. 

    She had  not responded when the crown had changed hands. She had watched from a distance at the sudden swarm of outsiders that came to greet their new queen – in that aspect, some things never changed. Somehow, everyone always knew when something exciting was happening in a different land. Perhaps the wind and the birds really did talk. She is surprised, though, when Leliana seeks her out, alone. She watches her, with those quiet eyes, so impossibly dark when set against the stark white of her face. She can see the flowers that bloom and grow in the garden of her mane, and she closes the remaining space between them as she responds to the new queen’s quiet greeting with her own soft voice, “I have. It seems congratulations are in order.” She regards her for a moment, observing the oddly detached expression on her face and the almost emptiness of her eyes, but she says nothing on it. “And it sounds as though you already have plans?” Here, there is an inquisitive tilt of her head, her lips twitching almost into a smile.

    Ryatah
    even angels have their wicked schemes


    @[leliana]
    #3
    I rise from my scars. nothing hurts me now.

    Ryatah is not like the others. It is surprising, on one hand, and refreshing on the other. Perhaps when you have had as much success as she has had, perhaps when you have drowned in it, perhaps it begins to lose its taste. Perhaps it becomes metallic on the tongue. Leliana doesn’t know, but she knows that she can appreciate that Ryatah doesn’t come seeking her own—she doesn’t try to use her as a stepping stone.

    In fact, Leliana is quite sure that she would never talk to her if she didn’t find her herself.

    There’s something refreshing about that, trustworthy even, and Leliana wonders on it as she studies the mare’s porcelain features. “I don’t believe congratulations are accurate,” she says quietly, velvet lips wrapping around the words and softening the edges. “But, then again, you knew that.”

    Ryatah knew better than most just how poisonous the crown could be.

    She knew what Leliana faced—and it wasn’t just power and glory.

    At the next question, Leliana glances away for a second, frowning into the distance before looking back. “I follow a path that was laid before me; what happens next has little to do with my own decisions.” It could be a cop out—a way to sidestep responsibility for what is to come—but she believes Ryatah will know the truth of it. “If Loess chooses peace, if they choose to release their captives, then I have very little plans other than watching over the inhabitants of Tephra.” She takes a deep breath. “But we both know kingdoms like Loess do not relinquish power so easily and I cannot turn a blind eye any longer.”



    @[Ryatah]
    [Image: avatar-1975.gif]
    the heaviness in my heart belongs to gravity




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