@mahawllan (zevran) said: ♪ : singing them a lullaby and brushing their hair

        she complained only once, earlier that day, about the state of her hair. it seems incredibly trite of her to be worried about what her hair looks like right now, in the midst of a blight, with her country on the brink of civil war, and so she's tried to keep that concern to herself. except the momentary lapse in self-control as she was trying to tame it that afternoon.

        the truth is, she misses all the products she used to have to keep her curls under control, and she has not been able to afford buying anything for that purpose since their quest began. when zevran offers to comb through the inevitable tangles that evening, she has already reached the end of her patience. so she agrees to sit still by the fire and let him work gently through the knots, eyes fluttering closed when he starts to quietly hum, then sing an antivan lullaby in a low voice.

        it's a familiar tune, the words a simple rhyme about mermaids on the boeric sea. she thinks maybe she might've overheard oriana singing it to oren once or twice. the memory stirs an ache in her chest; she swallows back a swell of tears. not here. not now. later, maybe. if she has the time.

        instead, elspeth hums along with him softly, focusing on that to keep from breaking down where the whole camp can see. yet still, it's somehow comforting to hear something known to her this way, and that he should choose this lullaby from all the lullabies out there...the gentle stroke of a wide-toothed comb through her curls, easing the tangles out...

        he takes her face in his hands as they're saying goodbye at the gates of denerim, leans in before she can really process what he intends to do. the press of his mouth to hers is soft, warm, and fleetingly brief. her brow furrows as he draws back, and she reaches for his hand to give it a quick squeeze. it's almost enough to make her regret leaving him to defend the city here while she pursues the archdemon.

        “consider that kiss a parting gift,” @mahawllan says, a signature lopsided smirk on his face.

Saskia knew she wasn't in the best of moods, and she was terrible at hiding it. Although she knew she needed to get better at it if she was supposed to be a queen. Linking her arm with Thamior's, she reluctantly answered. "I apologise for dampening the mood for others, but being told that I have to marry and produce an heir somewhat dampens my own."

Saskia instantly pushed herself off her throne, getting to her feet, seeing red. "I am your Queen, and you are my subject. I dictate when conversations end, don't you dare talk to me as if I was a child."

Saskia frowned slightly, her fingers fidgeting with the rings that covered them. "I don't understand, am I supposed to be cold-hearted instead? I know I don't want to rule or be anything like my father, but now you're saying I should be more like him?"

@mahawllan asked: ❝ i don't cater to all these vipers dressed in empath's clothing. ❞

AS SAID BY LUCANIS DELLAMORTE - PARTY BANTER

“me too,”   kyran said softly.  the elf may have had some height on him,  though it was inconsequential.  he'd battled devils and demons and warlords in avernus.  before that he'd survived a vampire's bite draining him of blood and breath.  what else was there to survive,  after enduring the unthinkable,  after enduring the hells itself,  through sheer force of will?  he was certain now more than ever that the devotion of his wrath could sustain him through anything.  (it had to.  he couldn't die just yet,  not like this   ---)   

true blood starters

“sure,”   he said.  they were actually closer to giving him a headache.  even with a little bit of wretched light,  it was nigh impossible to remain unassailed by the hungry shadows with the way he crunched and clanked around in that damned armor.  getting back to camp,  getting back to where he could rest away the day's aches and pains,  seemed a more distant prospect.