"No." And her own voice is flat and empty; she is as hollow as his laugh. How could she think that, when he so clearly would sacrifice everything for it? That he wished she could prove him wrong but would not give himself over to it, would not let her? If there is one thing he believes in, it must be that this needs doing at the cost of everything else. Of him, too, Lavellan feels. "I wouldn't accuse you of shallowness." Of pride, of selfishness, of being a liar and a betrayer -- all of those could come to her lips easily and she would feel satisfaction by using them against him. But they would wound her, too, in their own way.
Sorrow mixed with an aching hope seeps into her expression along with the steel of determination in her eyes. She has always been terrible at hiding her emotions, and as he clears his face she refuses to do the same to her's. Let him see, let him know.
Is it wrong to want the familiar back? To fix a mistake instead of seeing the truth of the scar and the healing that happened after? Lavellan steps forward, lets the ice crack under her feet and against her as she moves, falling away and down. She will not let herself be swayed by his attempts to keep her out, not now. It's not something she, they, Thedas can afford. It is, but how to make him see it? Simply telling him that does nothing, will change nothing. "Do you remember Redcliffe, Solas? What Alexius did to Dorian and I?"
It is an imperfect way to prove her point, but if she could be wrong even once, perhaps it will be enough to make him reconsider. A desperate, fleeting grasp at an opportunity she will never have again. You're real, and it means everyone could be real. It changes everything, but it can't. She will hold onto Cole's words, as she had before -- then tossing and turning, wondering. Now she knows, know she has what was unsaid; tangled with her own words from before where nothing was real because she was going to fix it, make it so it never happened.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-03-20 05:54 pm (UTC)Sorrow mixed with an aching hope seeps into her expression along with the steel of determination in her eyes. She has always been terrible at hiding her emotions, and as he clears his face she refuses to do the same to her's. Let him see, let him know.
Is it wrong to want the familiar back? To fix a mistake instead of seeing the truth of the scar and the healing that happened after? Lavellan steps forward, lets the ice crack under her feet and against her as she moves, falling away and down. She will not let herself be swayed by his attempts to keep her out, not now. It's not something she, they, Thedas can afford. It is, but how to make him see it? Simply telling him that does nothing, will change nothing. "Do you remember Redcliffe, Solas? What Alexius did to Dorian and I?"
It is an imperfect way to prove her point, but if she could be wrong even once, perhaps it will be enough to make him reconsider. A desperate, fleeting grasp at an opportunity she will never have again. You're real, and it means everyone could be real. It changes everything, but it can't. She will hold onto Cole's words, as she had before -- then tossing and turning, wondering. Now she knows, know she has what was unsaid; tangled with her own words from before where nothing was real because she was going to fix it, make it so it never happened.