Ysalwen Surana, Warden-Commander of Ferelden (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
freedom_is_grey) wrote2016-10-31 10:23 pm
freedom_is_grey) wrote2016-10-31 10:23 pm
Oh starry night, come and chart a course
Ysalwen can feel the red lyrium singing just beyond what her ears can hear. Sarai and her company are on their way to Isabela's ship, and now that she's managed to gather her Wardens -- and Zevran -- from the surrounding crowd, it's doubtless time for them to be on their way as well.
Hopefully Isabela's ship has enough room.
(These are the details she's thinking about to keep from seeing Orsino's corpse-armor, or Meredith's mad eyes, or all the poor trampled souls that couldn't get out of the way of panicking crowds. It -- isn't really helping. But she can pretend.)
"Nathaniel, Idanna, come away. We're more a hindrance than a help, now. And I'm too well known."
She can already feel the stares. And the whispers.
Hopefully Isabela's ship has enough room.
(These are the details she's thinking about to keep from seeing Orsino's corpse-armor, or Meredith's mad eyes, or all the poor trampled souls that couldn't get out of the way of panicking crowds. It -- isn't really helping. But she can pretend.)
"Nathaniel, Idanna, come away. We're more a hindrance than a help, now. And I'm too well known."
She can already feel the stares. And the whispers.
no subject
It's horrible in its familiarity, and he has to stay.
Sweet Andraste.
Her gaze meets his, then, just for a moment.
"Be well. Cullen."
With a sweep of her hand she pulls the hood of her cloak up, shielding her white hair from view, and follows the shadowy figures of Zevran, Nathaniel, and Sigrun into the crowd.
They really do have to leave with the tide.
And this is not a place to let anyone see her cry.