Warden-Commander Eldiana Surana (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
be_valorous) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rivain2017-05-21 02:34 pm
be_valorous) wrote in rivain2017-05-21 02:34 pm
Entry tags:
you can't go home again because home has ceased to exist
WHO: Eldiana Surana, Wynne
WHERE: Camp
WHEN: Post-The Broken Circle and Redcliffe
WARNINGS: Grief, trauma
NOTES: TBA
Eldy sits by the fire. Leans is a better way of putting: she leans against Noble Beast, using the massive mabari like one might use the end of a sofa. Except this sofa breathes in and out, and probably needs a bath, and loves her. So many people over the past few weeks have called her good that Beast's simple adoration is comforting. Beast doesn't care if she's good or bad, just that she's around.
It's one of the many things she's trying to avoid thinking about, no matter that Jowan seems to have forgiven her for running to Irving.
Jowan.
Fuck.
She can't think of him, either. Not that she left her best friend in the cells under Redcliffe's castle. She can't think about Irving, shaking and bloodied and seemingly so frail as she helped him down the stairs. She can't think about the Circle, oh Maker and all His mercy she can't, she can't. Except she is. She can't escape it. Letting Zevran into her tent last night had helped, had let her escape, but sex isn't exactly a long-term solution. Besides, she's sore enough today as it is, and her life is now made up of walking over roads instead of well-worn flagstones and stairs.
No, tonight, there's nothing for it except to sit by the fire, looking at the flickering flames, and turn the golem control rod over and over in her hands as she thinks and tries not to think.
It'd been her home. It'd been her home since she was a small child, and there'd been bodies and blood and destruction where there used to be her friends, her teachers. Amice was crumpled in a pool of her own blood but Keilli was alive enough to say that they all should be dead. Sir Carroll was still being a jackass while Cullen was broken.
('Someone was quite the little heartbreak when they were an apprentice. My, my,' Zevran had said and faced with Cullen's tortured whispers, it's not as if she has any room to deny it.)
Over and over in her hands, the control rod goes.
She should talk with Wynne.
She's...
Politely avoiding Wynne. Carefully. You have to avoid teachers carefully, otherwise they pick up on it. But she's not sure what to say, so she sits, and listens to Beast' breathing, and tries not to think.
WHERE: Camp
WHEN: Post-The Broken Circle and Redcliffe
WARNINGS: Grief, trauma
NOTES: TBA
Eldy sits by the fire. Leans is a better way of putting: she leans against Noble Beast, using the massive mabari like one might use the end of a sofa. Except this sofa breathes in and out, and probably needs a bath, and loves her. So many people over the past few weeks have called her good that Beast's simple adoration is comforting. Beast doesn't care if she's good or bad, just that she's around.
It's one of the many things she's trying to avoid thinking about, no matter that Jowan seems to have forgiven her for running to Irving.
Jowan.
Fuck.
She can't think of him, either. Not that she left her best friend in the cells under Redcliffe's castle. She can't think about Irving, shaking and bloodied and seemingly so frail as she helped him down the stairs. She can't think about the Circle, oh Maker and all His mercy she can't, she can't. Except she is. She can't escape it. Letting Zevran into her tent last night had helped, had let her escape, but sex isn't exactly a long-term solution. Besides, she's sore enough today as it is, and her life is now made up of walking over roads instead of well-worn flagstones and stairs.
No, tonight, there's nothing for it except to sit by the fire, looking at the flickering flames, and turn the golem control rod over and over in her hands as she thinks and tries not to think.
It'd been her home. It'd been her home since she was a small child, and there'd been bodies and blood and destruction where there used to be her friends, her teachers. Amice was crumpled in a pool of her own blood but Keilli was alive enough to say that they all should be dead. Sir Carroll was still being a jackass while Cullen was broken.
('Someone was quite the little heartbreak when they were an apprentice. My, my,' Zevran had said and faced with Cullen's tortured whispers, it's not as if she has any room to deny it.)
Over and over in her hands, the control rod goes.
She should talk with Wynne.
She's...
Politely avoiding Wynne. Carefully. You have to avoid teachers carefully, otherwise they pick up on it. But she's not sure what to say, so she sits, and listens to Beast' breathing, and tries not to think.