it's just what happens when your heart goes ablaze
If she is uncomfortable with the topic they discuss, she does not show it. If she wants to shift with her discomfort with the reminder of the war and the families torn asunder, she gives away nothing. Instead, she remains still, her face impassive and her gentle features clear as she listens to Wolfbane talk. She angles her head as she tries to comprehend it, her gentle heart swelling slightly in response to his pain.
She may not trust him, and she may not understand him, but she can empathize with him.
And it is the only thing that her healer’s heart knows how to do.
Still, she says nothing until it is clear that the stallion is done speaking. For a moment, she continues to stay quiet as she contemplates the mess that he has laid out for them. She picks up the various threads of the narrative—trying to piece them together as if she may be able to sew the entire picture herself. As if she may be able to put them back together so that she could complete the entirety on her own.
This is not her decision to make, she thinks, and thus looks to her husband for a moment longer. She studies the strong lines of his face, the way that it has weathered so much over the years, seen so much, and yet somehow managed to come out whole. She leans into him, pressing the feeling of trust into his breast, and hoping that it would be enough for him to know she will follow any decision he makes.
But then she pulls back slightly, her gaze sharpening on Wolfbane’s.
“Perhaps there is something I could do to help,” she offers, gentle. “You say there are forces that are changing within you. Perhaps I could provide you with something to help you control it.” She rolls a shoulder, suddenly uncertain about the strength of her own gift. “I have never tried before, but I could.”
A smile, gentle as she offers it.
“Try, that is.”
— Leliana —