OPEN POST

[mythalenaste]

“All witches are selfish, the Queen had said. But Tiffany’s Third Thoughts said: Then turn selfishness into a weapon! Make all things yours! Make other lives and dreams and hopes yours! Protect them! Save them! Bring them into the sheepfold! Walk the gale for them! Keep away the wolf! My dreams! My brother! My family! My land! My world! How dare you try to take these things, because they are mine!

I have a duty!”

--Terry Pratchett, The Wee Free Men

for shenanigans of all types, especially post-game

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[equitem_templarii]

Under normal circumstances he would parse those words without hesitation. Though tonight was no normal circumstance and he had never anticipated to hear something like that from anyone, much less the Inquisitor, herself. He blinked slowly, glanced slight to one side, then resumed looking into her eyes.

The moment that it sunk in was nearly a physical thing, the weight on his shoulders lifting and a brightness in his expression that gave way to shock and delight-- and a real maelstrom of others, but those, primarily.

"You're... you're certain?" there was hope, something he had long denied himself with what all he'd experienced. All the trials and tribulations he'd survived, hope was a cruel stab in the chest when that hope began to fray into anger and despair after the events in Kinloch hold.

Now... he was willing to leave that vulnerability open, but just for her, for Pel, his Inquisitor, and the love of his life.

[mythalenaste]

Her face flushes in the pale light, all the way to her hairline. Her eyes suddenly glimmer at the lower lids, though they do not well just yet. She sees the moment it clicks, hears the lightness in his voice, that ray of hope like a lifeline for her. It has occurred to her more than once that she is having a baby no matter what, and that he can choose not to. She knows he would never abandon her, but in the margins she glimpses the terror and loneliness that many unexpected mothers endure.

She nods, and then her pinned-up nervousness trickles out through a crack in her stoicism, a stream of babble. "Yes. I-I...I've known for a while. But I couldn't tell you till now. I couldn't put you through that, not till I knew I'd come back to you alive. It was bad enough for you to have me to worry about--"

She stops herself and sheds the calm facade, curling against his chest and pulling him close.

"I was so afraid..." that she was going to die, and take her first child with her. "Say something."

[equitem_templarii]

Both his arms wrapped around her tightly, head bowed to rest his mouth against her shoulder, his voice muffled by the fabric of her clothing. "I would never have permitted you to face him, knowing that." there was a fierceness to the conviction in his voice. As determined and driven as he sounded when fighting off a pell of lyrium withdrawal. "We would have found a way-- send Iron Bull, Cassandra, Solas, whoever could wither Corypheus down before you stepped onto the battlefield..."

It was understandable, but no less frustrating, Part of him did scold himself softly for letting the past linger in the present. The past was that, the past, and decisions worked in their favor, Maker willing. He pulled away enough to cup her face in his hands, a smile breaking out over his face with a very soft bubble of his own laughter.

"We're going to start our own family. We're shaping the world for them, a better world. A world full of promise and hope."

[mythalenaste]

Now there are real tears in her eyes, and a shining smile, like all darkness was just driven away by those words.

"You're happy?" She's not surprised or disbelieving, only vulnerable. She just wants to hear him say he is happy.