ˢᵖᵃʳᵏ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ

Appearing when you least expect it, like a ghost in the neon night.

when you find yourself in times of trouble

mother lilie comes to you

speaking words of wisdom

laddy: i am in this photo and i don’t like it

irladarelan replied to your post: hey do you think you’re doomed and past saving do...

that’s a lie, he is glad for enya, he is just really sad

do you think you’re damned for eternity and can’t be redeemed

are you sad and wise

do you need a hug

                    It is meant to be a sad thing, perhaps ━━ but to the young elf, it brings a smile to her face, emerald eyes widening in a childish excitement, as though bearing witness to the telling of a great story. Pointed fingers clutch each other before her and she cannot help but bounce upon the heels of her feet; “ I know ━━ isn’t it MARVELOUS? The struggle, and the ouches, and the ━━ it’s hard, and you cry, but you laugh, and there’s a lot, and it’s really, really long, but, but... ”

                    “ It makes a really wonderful story. ”

@veneriic

Cont.

A sad smile, yet soft and understanding, slowly forms. “Unconventional but very wise, da’assan.”

There were times during the war and the rebellion (sometimes in between, he does not think the fighting ever really stopped, just gained new form) where he had found much to cry for. The lives lost, the pain caused, the peace no one could seem to find. Oh yes, there had been many tears he had shed in his lifetime. Ladaral knew they were okay, emotions where nothing to shy away from. But the real way he had survived as long as he had was through the counsel of friends.

He approaches and finds his way to the floor too, staff set off to the side.

“Even so, I do not believe anyone should cry alone. Being in company when you’re upset, I’ve found, is rather beneficial. You don’t have to talk about anything if you do not wish, but I’ve also happened to find that talking does wonders too.”

                    To lift her face requires bow-skilled fingers to grasp the long tail of her braid, drawing it tightly into her grip. HER SAFETY TAIL, her brother had called it once, as even a little Enya would compulsively pull at her hair, hiding behind the thick braid before speaking something particularly brave. Or foolish. ( The line is slim. ) And so it clutches between her hands as grass-green eyes lift from their place burrowed in her knees, peering to her side at the mage beside her. A faint smile creeps upon her lips, accompanied by the lightest blush. Few can find the Inquisitor when she vanishes, and even fewer dare reach out for her.

                    A LONELY THING, to be a leader. It does not suit her.

                     SOME DAYS, THEY ARE A HURRICANE. Rushing winds, torrential pouring, and they are barely even her own ━━ from where did they sprout? There is not a single answer. The overarching cavern of stone that is Skyhold. The ever-pressing matters from each attendant, surrounding her with duties. Even the sky bears down on her. She can feel the sneers of noble men as the tears well in the elf’s eyes, hear mutterings of the inexperienced child and weak little knife ear at the sight of the drops streaming down her face.

                    And even more, her FRUSTRATION that creates the tears, not weakness. Not inexperience. Not immaturity. But a myriad terror, clawing down her skin, drawing her to cry. Sometimes, she can endure. Push through the tears, but others ━━ she runs. She hides. Not in shame, not fear. TO PROTECT.

                    “ I know, ” comes the soft, watery mumble, muffled in the flats of her knees. Wiry fingers push up to rub at her face, burrowing her eyes into the crook of her elbow. There may be an end, one day. Not now. Still, she sniffles, rubbing quickly once more at her puffy face.

                    “ They come to help push away the anger. They’re good ━━ LITTLE FRIENDS, you see? ”