Pel (
mythalenaste) wrote2015-09-15 06:25 pm
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OPEN POST
“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
celebration night - with Cullen
I don't know what happens after this, he said.
Neither do I, she responded, but it was only half of what she was going to say. There was supposed to be a because at the end of it.
Telling him obviously has to happen. Not telling him won't make it go away. At some point, he'll figure it out on his own. This is the perfect moment. Corypheus is dead and the future looks okay for once. Aside from being tied to a goddess who has expressed no interest in cashing in on her debt, and in fact has expressed disinterest in it.
"Cullen," she begins, turning in his arms, her hands automatically settling on the soft feathers of his coat and combing through, idly stroking. Her voice catches in her chest as she peers up at him, all ice-blue eyes, like a wild doe caught in lantern-light.
"There's...something you need to know."
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He did not resist when Pel turned to face him, letting his hands rest upon her hips-- so slim that he was afraid he might break her, but... he knew better. She was one of the strongest people he knew, so when she looked up at him with such trepidation he wasn't sure if she was playing a prank on him or not.
"...Will you be returning to your clan?" he asked, letting his worst fears come to the fore. The Inquisition was situated here, but if she were to be safest, he would recommend she stay with her clan. They were keen on picking up and moving on a moment's notice, well equipped to handle the dangers that would face her...
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A deep breath.
"We're having a baby." Only toward the end does her voice crack, nervous words pushed past a suddenly dry mouth.
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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.
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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."
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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."
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"You're happy?" She's not surprised or disbelieving, only vulnerable. She just wants to hear him say he is happy.