In the moment she hated that part of her wished to immediately relent, to collapse, to curl into him and ignore the rest of the world. To spend whatever little time she had left in this world just there, listening to his heartbeat. She hit him in the shoulder - hard - as he pulled her in but the stiffness in her spine only lasted long enough for her to take five breaths.
Kallian loved Alistair. Even after ten years, even after the accusations of his uncles and their peers, even after feeling as though nothing she did would improve anything.
"I am old," she said, voice quiet and still rough, "or I'm meant to die young." It's more comforting to think of herself as old.
His voice had cracked at nothing and she wanted to believe it almost as much as she was terrified to. She'd lost so much when he'd died - not only had she been stripped of her idea of the future, of any future, but her legitimacy in the eyes of the Thedan aristocracy. Leliana had tried to teach her of the game, as both a preventative measure and to keep her distracted from her mourning, but Kallian's heart hadn't been in it.
She became a recluse savior. It was rarely a balanced combination.
"I know why you did it." She knew him, didn't she? He died because he thought that it was the best choice, because he thought that she was more important, better, something. "But as far as they were concerned I stole their king from them and they never forgave me for it."
Sighing, Kallian put her arms around Alistair's waist. "I feel old. The Calling echoes in my head, in my dreams, except for when I look at you, and I'm scared. I lost you once, I don't think I have it in me to survive it again. Part of me wonders if I haven't gone mad, poisoned in a cave somewhere, and none of this is real because my mind is lost and I'm slowly dying."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2015-11-17 05:03 am (UTC)Kallian loved Alistair. Even after ten years, even after the accusations of his uncles and their peers, even after feeling as though nothing she did would improve anything.
"I am old," she said, voice quiet and still rough, "or I'm meant to die young." It's more comforting to think of herself as old.
His voice had cracked at nothing and she wanted to believe it almost as much as she was terrified to. She'd lost so much when he'd died - not only had she been stripped of her idea of the future, of any future, but her legitimacy in the eyes of the Thedan aristocracy. Leliana had tried to teach her of the game, as both a preventative measure and to keep her distracted from her mourning, but Kallian's heart hadn't been in it.
She became a recluse savior. It was rarely a balanced combination.
"I know why you did it." She knew him, didn't she? He died because he thought that it was the best choice, because he thought that she was more important, better, something. "But as far as they were concerned I stole their king from them and they never forgave me for it."
Sighing, Kallian put her arms around Alistair's waist. "I feel old. The Calling echoes in my head, in my dreams, except for when I look at you, and I'm scared. I lost you once, I don't think I have it in me to survive it again. Part of me wonders if I haven't gone mad, poisoned in a cave somewhere, and none of this is real because my mind is lost and I'm slowly dying."