The system isn't the only thing that failed you. There were plenty of people who should have put you first and didn't. You mother...in her way, she was putting you first. She shouldn't've been the last one.
[ Alistair keeps smiling, in a faint and baffled sort of way, like he isn't quite sure what to make of her at the moment but is reasonably sure it isn't bad. He opens his mouth--
He could make excuses for all of them, individually; he understands why Isolde felt threatened, he understands that Cailan was Eamon's real nephew and the Guerrins were nothing but selfless to shelter his potential competitor. He feels sorry for Fiona. He's fighting to stay angry with Maric. Duncan would have to do more than lie to him and feed him darkspawn blood to lose Alistair's favor.
--and shuts it, looks aside for a moment to process how touched he is, and then opens it again for a different reason entirely. ]
Eleven elves go hunting, [ he says, ] and kill a bear so large it takes all of them to move it--I know the reasonable thing would be to cut it up, but you have to work with me--it's so large they're all dragging it together, barely making it, [ that's not the punchline, just a bonus, ] and one of them straightens up and wipes sweat off her forehead and says, Creators, I wish we'd brought a twelf.
[A huff of a laugh through her nose.] Two humans go into the woods and one gets badly hurt. The other one carries him to a Keeper and he says, "I think my friend is dead!"
The Keeper tells him, "All right, stay calm. First, we have to be sure he's actually dead."
The human slits the wounded man's throat with a knife, turns to the Keeper, and cries, "Now what?"
[ He laughs—mostly silent, mostly air, but his chest shakes—genuinely startled by the punchline, and shakes his head. ] Now you've made it mean, [ he says, without fire, because he understands social dynamics well enough to know that elves are a little entitled to Stupid Shem jokes. After a moment he adds, ] Thank you, [ and throws another pinecone. ]
[She giggles and affectionately touches her cheek to his shoulder. But his thanks catches her off-guard enough that she almost forgets to zap the pinecone. And for a second, she wants to blurt out foolish things. She wants to tell him she will always put him first, but that sounds besotted and it's also a promise she might not be able to keep. Maybe. Would she? She can't always tell when something like that comes from the heart and when it comes from that destructive place Keeper Deheune raised her in. The question she has found is this: will this bleed her dry, like she bled for her clan since she was nine?
No. This evening, she has listened. She has related. And she has laughed. She feels renewed, not drained. This is how it's meant to be done, not the other way.]
It cost me nothing, [she says quietly.] And I want you to know that if you need me, I will be here. It doesn't matter if I'm working. If you need me, you can find me, and I will stop whatever I'm doing and help you.
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He could make excuses for all of them, individually; he understands why Isolde felt threatened, he understands that Cailan was Eamon's real nephew and the Guerrins were nothing but selfless to shelter his potential competitor. He feels sorry for Fiona. He's fighting to stay angry with Maric. Duncan would have to do more than lie to him and feed him darkspawn blood to lose Alistair's favor.
--and shuts it, looks aside for a moment to process how touched he is, and then opens it again for a different reason entirely. ]
Eleven elves go hunting, [ he says, ] and kill a bear so large it takes all of them to move it--I know the reasonable thing would be to cut it up, but you have to work with me--it's so large they're all dragging it together, barely making it, [ that's not the punchline, just a bonus, ] and one of them straightens up and wipes sweat off her forehead and says, Creators, I wish we'd brought a twelf.
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The Keeper tells him, "All right, stay calm. First, we have to be sure he's actually dead."
The human slits the wounded man's throat with a knife, turns to the Keeper, and cries, "Now what?"
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No. This evening, she has listened. She has related. And she has laughed. She feels renewed, not drained. This is how it's meant to be done, not the other way.]
It cost me nothing, [she says quietly.] And I want you to know that if you need me, I will be here. It doesn't matter if I'm working. If you need me, you can find me, and I will stop whatever I'm doing and help you.