Here, on the bedroom floor, becoming slowly more aware of the discomfort of a splinter in her hand, it's hard to imagine that it would. That anything would. And yet—
Hardie. Hardly a day has passed in all the years since Asher died that she hasn't thought of him even in passing, and hardly a week where she hasn't told some story, mentioned something, and doesn't it help? Hasn't the problem with speaking of the Baudins always been, in the end, how little she has to say? Hasn't she wished to.
(And maybe you're good as you are feels truer and easier to allow to bear some weight now than it would if he said it to her some other, better time, armoured and lovely.)
“Alistair and I came out of the same sort of cunt and have been inside one in common,” —is probably not what he would have envisioned her leading with. “He was one of the first people I grew close to in Skyhold, he'd reached out to me to ask that I not print anything about Grey Wardens. He promised he'd tell me their secrets, if I agreed not to publicise their presence, and for as long as I've known him I never told him I'd have just done it if he asked. And he did tell me, it's why I wouldn't allow any of them but him in the manor. I trusted Grey Wardens much less after, but him much more, and he was there when. He was with me when my birth mother died. He was one of the people who heard what I screamed. Not the first I told of my own will, knowingly, but one of the first to know.”
Her thumbnail slides along the edge of his hand, like she'd be fidgeting if she weren't holding onto him— would rather hold on than let go to do it, can't be still, even so.
“So he was one of the first people I ever spoke to about it. He knew when it was still a thing to protect. And he was better than me for Sabine, and I don't — I'm not being unkind about myself, they're lovely together? They were. He suited her, and we learned how to be friends, and we made jokes about how...if the taint took him, if the fade took Thranduil, we'd run away to the sea and be pirates together. But I sort of always thought they'd have fat little ginger babies for me to tell outrageous stories to, after all this. I thought if he could be a father again, from the start and properly, he'd be so good at it. He was— kind and funny and the first close friend to me that I wasn't keeping secrets from. I hadn't even known I could have that. And I think he enjoyed it too much when he got to throw things at me so I could practise my fade shield.”
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Hardie. Hardly a day has passed in all the years since Asher died that she hasn't thought of him even in passing, and hardly a week where she hasn't told some story, mentioned something, and doesn't it help? Hasn't the problem with speaking of the Baudins always been, in the end, how little she has to say? Hasn't she wished to.
(And maybe you're good as you are feels truer and easier to allow to bear some weight now than it would if he said it to her some other, better time, armoured and lovely.)
“Alistair and I came out of the same sort of cunt and have been inside one in common,” —is probably not what he would have envisioned her leading with. “He was one of the first people I grew close to in Skyhold, he'd reached out to me to ask that I not print anything about Grey Wardens. He promised he'd tell me their secrets, if I agreed not to publicise their presence, and for as long as I've known him I never told him I'd have just done it if he asked. And he did tell me, it's why I wouldn't allow any of them but him in the manor. I trusted Grey Wardens much less after, but him much more, and he was there when. He was with me when my birth mother died. He was one of the people who heard what I screamed. Not the first I told of my own will, knowingly, but one of the first to know.”
Her thumbnail slides along the edge of his hand, like she'd be fidgeting if she weren't holding onto him— would rather hold on than let go to do it, can't be still, even so.
“So he was one of the first people I ever spoke to about it. He knew when it was still a thing to protect. And he was better than me for Sabine, and I don't — I'm not being unkind about myself, they're lovely together? They were. He suited her, and we learned how to be friends, and we made jokes about how...if the taint took him, if the fade took Thranduil, we'd run away to the sea and be pirates together. But I sort of always thought they'd have fat little ginger babies for me to tell outrageous stories to, after all this. I thought if he could be a father again, from the start and properly, he'd be so good at it. He was— kind and funny and the first close friend to me that I wasn't keeping secrets from. I hadn't even known I could have that. And I think he enjoyed it too much when he got to throw things at me so I could practise my fade shield.”