he knows of the brands. in their journey to crestwood, he asks about hers. he is curious, and they have built a rapport he has come to enjoy. she's a surface dwarf, born far from orzammar, so, why?
she surprisingly admits to him a lyrium deal gone wrong. caught by the guards, and before they tried to take her hands, they held her down and burned it onto her face. she also mentions a daring escape, a furious mother, and a lashing. she laughs at it now, but he can see in her eyes the ancient, unhealed fear.
this is not what he came here for. he had meant to regale her with knowledge of the titans--carefully curated, of course--to give her something to chew on. to keep her focus away from him, where it seems to remain steadfastly these days. but he looks at her and sees the brand and he cannot help himself. "if you like, i know a spell."
she is unfamiliar with magic. could not comprehend that something like this is not possible for any normal hedge mage--that he could take it away. the mistake. restore her. make it all as it once was. she is bewildered, excited. she should not be.
but, foolishly, he allows it to embolden him. takes the naked trust in her eyes that look at him too closely and lets it carry his hands up to her face with a practiced ease. the light from his palm is gentle, flowing like water, and when it is over, she is new. she touches her skin in awe, like the thousands he has helped before her, and what was once a cold place inside him suddenly feels...warm.
ar lasa mala revas. you are free.
she stares, waiting for him to be the mirror through which she sees herself.
the words spill forth, honest and true. "you are so beautiful."
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