walking down the trousers of time

[freedom_is_grey]

Ysalwen is standing by the fireplace, cloak in hand, half-turning to go out the back door and then turning back, scanning the crowd as if looking for something.

Or someone.

Liranan, too, is practically vibrating in place.

Taking cues from your person can be a difficult thing to bear, for a mabari.

He cannot make this better!

Comments

[howtoactfereldan]

Ah.

He drops his eyes. "Yes. Sorry. I should -- "

She doesn't want to know, he supposes. He can respect that.

He puts his attention back to the diary.

[freedom_is_grey]

"You found what you were looking for, then?"

Ysalwen keeps her body relaxed as she asks that. It takes some doing, but --

She manages.

[howtoactfereldan]

He flicks his eyes up.

Hesitant: "I -- don't know. It depends on what's in these."

[freedom_is_grey]

She meets his gaze, expression solemn but not closed.

"Me, either, really. Would a second set of eyes help? Or -- I'm good at cross-referencing, if there's anything you think is useful in what you've already got. Once you've had time to look, I mean."

[howtoactfereldan]

"I'm frightened, Ysa."

Said like the sky is blue or the sun rises in the east.

"I just... need to know what to expect. To make arrangements, while I can."

[freedom_is_grey]

Oh.

That hurts, probably more than either of them would like.

"I hate to admit it, but fear is only sensible. I wish it weren't, but -- "

There's a hesitation in the way she holds herself, then she reaches out to take his hand.

If he'll let her.

"What arrangements? I'll help with that if I can, too."

Planning for your own death is, well.

She thought she'd have to do that, once. And siring an Elder God baby isn't going to be enough to save anyone, not this time.

[howtoactfereldan]

He curls his hand tight around hers, looking away.

"It's... not as though there's much. My sister should know, but only if -- what everyone says is true. I can't imagine anyone else would care. If there's a way for Ci to come find you, if it happens -- you'll look after her?"

[freedom_is_grey]

She tightens her own grip in response -- it's not quite white-knuckled, but it's not a delicate, careful touch, either.

"I will. Of course I will."

Her eyes are not damp. They're not. Maybe later they will be, but now is not the time.

"And -- I care. But I suppose my answer will be in you coming back. Or Ci coming in alone."

It's far, far better than nothing. (She wishes, distantly, that he had more people to tell.)

"I'll pray. Andraste, I think, is the type inclined to listen. If that's -- not presumptuous."

Would the ashes have cured this, too? If only she'd kept some, they might have tried.

[howtoactfereldan]

"It's not." His voice is even.

He doesn't say You can't deny that I deserve every bit of the suffering coming to me.

"That's -- why I listened to Cassandra. She knows what I think of the Chantry, now. She says -- an Inquisition will serve the Maker, not the Chantry. That much I believe in."

[freedom_is_grey]

Since he does not say it, she does not have to decide whether to protest or lie. Or both.

If she knew, she would be grateful.

"That's something," Ysalwen says, after a moment. "That's a start. You -- I'm glad. I'll want to hear what you make of it. When -- "

Well.

"When -- if -- should you come back."

Or maybe he'll come back dead. It's happened for worse people. Though maybe that's it's own form of suffering, too. Andraste's ass!

[howtoactfereldan]

"You won't be rid of me right away," Cullen says, a little dry. "I'm not a complete fool. I'm cutting the amount gradually, over several weeks. As far as I know no one's tried that. All the reports are on templars who stopped all at once."

[freedom_is_grey]

"Oh. Oh, good!"

She doesn't smile, because this is still all going to go terribly, and there's going to be so much pain, but --

Well.

He'll still be here for awhile.

"I -- don't actually want to lose you. So you know."

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen... turns pink.

"I can -- take that as a compliment. I think."

But he squeezes her hand, which might undermine his words, some.

[freedom_is_grey]

"You really can," she says, squeezing back. "If you think it is. I mean, it's an earnest statement of fact, too, but -- "

There's no flush on her cheeks. Nope. None.

Hush.

[howtoactfereldan]

"Well." He clears his throat. "I'll... endeavor not to be lost, then."

[freedom_is_grey]

"Good. I mean. Um."

Right.

"I have faith that you'll manage it. If anyone can."

[howtoactfereldan]

"We'll find out, won't we," he says, with a lightness he doesn't feel. "I'll -- ask Cassandra to keep you informed. If I can't manage it."

[freedom_is_grey]

"Thank you. I -- "

She falls silent, tightening her grip on his hand instead.

Just a little.

"Hopefully it isn't necessary. But -- "

It might be. They both know that.

[howtoactfereldan]

It's easier, if he has to keep it together for someone else.

Gently: "Hence arrangements."

[freedom_is_grey]

"Yes."

Her smile is crooked, but her eyes are dry.

(For now.)

"I understand."

But --

She reaches out her hand to hover it over his stack of books about lyrium.

"Since we're here -- do you mind?"

[howtoactfereldan]

"Maker's breath, no," Cullen says, with a huff of breath that isn't quite a laugh. "Let's see what we can figure out."

[freedom_is_grey]

She doesn't salute, just turns to the book she pulled off the top of his pile and begins reading.

And taking notes.

Regardless of what they find, Liranan is going to interrupt them in a few hours to make sure they eat.

And stay hydrated.

Ysalwen, at least, will not be at all surprised.