Estella left meditation slowly, coming to in the area behind the stables to discover that Harellan had already left, though there was a canister of water sitting next to her knee. She snorted softly, picking it up and pulling the cork from the top of it, taking a careful sip to find that it actually contained tea, and quite warm. Helpful, when he had her meditating in the snow. Apparently, this was supposed to help center her, build the awareness of her own body that she would need if she was to learn what he called dirthin'era. The way of inner magic, if she was translating properly. It apparently had no name in the trade tongue, or any other that she knew.
She wasn't sure the meditating was helping anything, and part of her wanted to be working on applications of all this right away, to learn something that might at least be useful in a fight situation. A step towards solving the problem that had prompted her to ask his help in the first place. But by this point, she knew that she had to do things the long, slow way if she wanted to achieve anything at all. So she would do this the long, slow way and see what came of it.
Putting the cork back in the canister and hitting it with the side of her fist, Estella flowed to her feet. From the position of the sun in the sky, she was just about due at Rilien's tower. She was training with Ves today, before Khari arrived for the same. They seemed to be able to keep on a fairly steady rotation with each other, though this extra training she was doing now meant it wasn't as easy as it used to be. She hadn't really told anyone what she was doing yet, except Cyrus and Rilien; she wasn't sure she wanted to make a big deal of it before there were any results to show for it. She'd tell Khari soon, of course, just to update her on that conversation they'd had about it, but...
Shaking the thoughts from her head, Estella made her way to Rilien's tower, hooking the canister to her belt and re-tying her hair into its tail as she went, higher on her head this time, in anticipation of the vigorous activity to follow. Ves might not think much of his natural talent as a warrior, but she thought he might have picked up more than he believed. And in any case, battle had never been natural to her, either. In that sense, she thought maybe they helped each other.
She found him outside the tower, in fact, sitting on a bench not far from the entrance. Normally, he just went right in; he and Khari both knew they were welcome in the area. Rilien certainly didn't mind. Estella tilted her head at him as she approached, stopping within easy speaking distance. “Ves?"
He sat with a relaxed posture, half-geared up in his armor. He'd gotten his leg guards over the boots and the open skirt of steel on, but he'd stopped there, his upper body only covered by a blue, soft-looking tunic with long sleeves. Well, that and the proud white lion draped over his shoulders, providing him some protection from the cold. It wasn't a particularly freezing day, but the snow wasn't really melting either. At least the wind wasn't whipping through the fortress.
"I was gearing up, ready for another long session of reflex testing." The evidence of that was obvious enough; his shield and practice spear were propped against the wall, as well as the axe if he preferred to try that as well, and the rest of his gear was in a neat pile next to him on the ground. "Then I thought it might be nice to simply relax for an afternoon. Just once. We can get back to the endless toil when we're done." He smiled, pushing away a bit of snow from a spot on the bench next to him. He seemed to be in a good mood. "What do you say? Sit with me?"
Estella considered that for a moment. The thought of just... taking the afternoon off made her feel vaguely guilty of something. Training, work: these things were constant for her because they needed to be. But she knew no one else would begrudge her a day without them. The guilt was entirely self-generated. She dithered about it for a moment more, then nodded, half smiling and moving to take the spot he'd cleared.
“I suppose it won't hurt," she admitted, leaning back against the stone and pulling her feet up so that her heels rested on the edge, letting her drape her arms over her knees, containing herself in minimal space. Old habit. “I don't think I've had a free afternoon since..." She actually wasn't sure when the last time was. “Well. It was a long time ago, anyway." She huffed softly, shaking her head.
"There are some things we could talk about, so the time isn't completely wasted." They were just about touching shoulders, some of the fur on the lion's pelt brushing lightly against her each time Ves took a breath. "But first... you look like you've been outside a while. Has this Argent Lion ever worn a lion's pelt? And would she like to?" There was something of a mischievous twinkle in his eye. It was something she hadn't seen in a while, likely not since the events of Adamant Fortress. The corners of his lips were quirked upwards, and remaining there. "I'm actually getting a bit warm, so I don't mind."
Estella coughed, turning her face to the side a fair bit. It wasn't likely to do anything to hide the awkward flush creeping up her neck and face. Just like that, she was tilted off-balance. She cleared her throat, recovering her equilibrium as quickly as she could scrape it together, arranging her face into something that looked more like the collected amusement she should have been reacting with. Only then did she turn back. “I'd look absurd," she replied, “Argent Lion or not. But if you're feeling a little overheated, allow me to humbly accept the burden of ridicule, for your amusement and comfort."
"Absurd? Never. Here, lean forward a bit." His grin growing a little, he pulled off the heavy pelt and shifted in his seat somewhat, lifting it and draping it over her back. It actually wasn't as heavy as it looked, and did a great deal to immediately block out the cold, at least where it covered. She quickly noticed, however, that he wasn't aligning it over her shoulders as he did for himself, with the head perched atop his left shoulder. Instead he had it aligned centrally, carefully pulling the hood so to speak up and setting it down gently atop her head. Out of her peripherals she could see the two largest of its teeth dropping down just into line of sight.
Ves leaned forward and reached to adjust it slightly. "Oh, that is... Stel, I might have to give this to you. You look ferocious." He examined his work for a second before what little of a straight face he had cracked, and he snorted. "No, no, I'm sorry. It's good. Like a Chasind warlord or something. Need to get you some warpaint."
She imagined she looked more like an agitated kitten than a Chasind warlord, and narrowed her eyes at him. “Grr," she deadpanned, a passable imitation of Rilien if she did say so herself. Picking up one of the 'arms' of the creature, she moved her own so that it was underneath, then punched him in the bicep with a lion-covered fist. “Your Graceface is awful, Ves." Estella huffed, shifting the pelt around a little so it wrapped comfortably around her, but she left the hood of sorts where it was. She was quite warm, after all, and vanity was not among her many flaws as far as she knew, so looking silly didn't bother her much.
Propping her chin on her knees, she turned her head sideways a bit so he was in her field of vision. “Remind me why it was a good idea to take the afternoon off, again? The company is simply abominable, it seems." Her tone easily gave the lie—she only sounded weary in a farcical fashion, and quite intentionally so.
Ves let himself fall back against the wall again, exhaling a very satisfied sigh. "Well for one, I have missed having some things to laugh about." It seemed to be more of a serious sentiment than he'd meant, and ended up having the opposite effect intended, causing his smile to noticeably shrink. Still, his good mood seemed to be unshakable, and no doubt Estella's willingness to play along was contributing to that. "But there were a few things I wanted to talk about. To start, something changed with Saraya last night."
Preempting any concern she might have for that, he lolled his head sideways to look at her. "But it's a good thing, I promise. I woke this morning, and... Saraya had slept through the night. Sleep. She hasn't had that in..." He shook his head. "About as long since you took an afternoon off, I think." It was obviously a joke, albeit one that intended to receive no laughs. Ves had mentioned before that Saraya was unable to sleep at all, simply locked into a state of always being aware.
It got a small smile out of her, anyway, though the expression was more thoughtful than amused. She couldn't imagine not sleeping for any considerable period of time. Then again, she didn't know if Saraya got tired as such or not. Still... even without actual physical or mental fatigue, she thought there might be something wearying about constant awareness, anyway. Even though she'd never been a very good mage, she'd always valued the time she could spend drifting peacefully in the Fade, like any sleeping human, elf, or Qunari did. Even the dreamless nights weren't so bad. It was such a mundane, obvious part of life that Estella found it hard to even conceive of doing without it.
“Did she feel okay, when she woke? No lethargy or anything?" She had to assume there had been no major complications, or he wouldn't be speaking of it in this way. “I'm happy for her. For you both; it must be a relief, in a way." The only thing was, if this was new, then it was likely a development due to what Zethlasan had done to them, and that—she wasn't sure she could believe something good could come of something like that. But maybe it could. Ves deserved something good from it, and Saraya too.
"She could always go into a sort of... trance, I suppose. Something she learned to do in the stillness of the ruins, a way to force all thoughts to leave her. But it required a quiet and a lack of input from me that she hasn't been able to find as much since I found her. Sleep is... an easier thing to come by. And she felt fine, came to quickly." He exhaled and shrugged, seeming to realize where the conversation was naturally coming to. "I'd like to think that Nightmare was just preying on my fears. And that Zeth really was intending to help, in a twisted way. It still wasn't his choice, you were still right to stop him. I don't regret any of it. But it's nice to think we might be able to do this, she and I. Coexist more effectively than we have. Someday."
He bumped lightly into her shoulder with his. "Don't worry. Your brother, Harellan, and I are still going to make every move with utmost caution." The obvious thought occurred to him. "Oh, met him by the way. Interesting man, Saraya even thought so. He said he's teaching you?" The question was asked in a gentle, half-cautious way, as he seemed to do when prying. Evidence that he wouldn't mind if she had little she wanted to share.
Did she want to share just a little? Or more than that? Estella found it was an honest question, and the answer wasn't immediate. On the one hand, she wasn't settled on how she felt about everything herself, and the knowledge was so new. It was hardly the thing to talk about, if one wanted things to laugh about. But the conversation had taken a more serious turn, and... she felt strange, sitting on the revelation all by herself. She hadn't even been able to bring herself to have a proper conversation about it with Cyrus yet, though she knew he knew she knew. Even having to describe it that way meant it was far too complicated.
But he was coping with so much right now; she didn't feel right forcing him to deal with all of this at the same time. Sighing softly, Estella placed her hands over her raised knees, pushing back a little bit. The cold flooded in until the pelt fell a little further forward to cut off the chill air. “He is," she said, glancing down at her fingers for a moment, then looking up to find his eyes. She swallowed.
“He's... he says he's my uncle. My father's brother." Twin, even, which probably meant he looked just like him, something she hadn't yet dared to consider too closely. “I think I believe him. But it was... a shock, you know? I'd known him before, but he never gave any sign." She could understand that. It was Tevinter, and people had to be very careful with things like that in Tevinter. Lineage and blood could mean everything there, and often did. If he'd told her, and she'd given it away... who knew what would have become of her? Or worse, Cyrus, apprenticed to a Magister and slated to one day be the same?
"That demon mentioned something like that. Elf-blooded." He spoke more quietly, likely both due to the nature of the subject, and just because Obsession was not something to speak in loud tones about. "Saraya knew in the Between, though I didn't catch on then. You saw the colors the same as I did." He breathed out slowly, taking a moment to think. His fingers were reddening slightly, but if he was at all cold, he didn't show it. Perhaps it had something to do with being Fereldan-born.
"I can't imagine what that must be like for you. I knew who and what my parents were as soon as I knew how I was different from the people living outside the Alienage. And Tevinter complicates things, as it always does." Another long pause. He watched a pair of mages jog across the grounds in the distance, heading to begin more aggressive spell practice for the day. "Thank you for telling me. Harellan seems genuine enough, though the choice of name makes that a little harder to accept. Saraya was very intrigued by him, to be honest. Or rather, the symbols he wore. They looked like normal symbols of Mythal to me, but... I don't know, no one's ever caught her attention that way."
“It's not the kindest name. But he must have a reason for using it for himself. In a way, that almost makes me more sure that it's nothing to worry about." She couldn't be sure, of course; he seemed very complicated, to her, and they had known each other for so little time, the years Falon had been at the periphery of her life in the Chantry notwithstanding. “I'm not sure what to make of him, but he's—" She sighed softly.
“I never knew anything about my family. Only seldom would anyone so much as speak of my mother. I used to say her name to myself at night, over and over, so I wouldn't forget what it was. Iphigenia Pharis Aella Avenarius. A mouthful, for a child, but I didn't want to lose any of it. Now I have two names, and maybe someday I'll have more than just those." Her hands shifted, arms crossing over herself to gently tug the edges of the pelt closer about her shoulders, huffing. Her breath fogged for a second before it dissipated. “If he ever tells me what the symbols are about, I'll be sure to let you know." A tiny smile curved her mouth.
"Thank you." He fell silent for a long moment. The sound of distant spells carried over the air, echoing off of Skyhold's walls. Ves seemed to be thinking something over, or perhaps just putting together the words he wanted in his head before he spoke. When he finally did, it was with the same soft tone as before.
"About what happened in the ruin..." He hesitated, almost wincing, but continued. "There are a hundred things I could think to say. That I'm sorry I didn't see the danger, and pulled you and Khari into it. That I'm grateful you came, even with everything you've been carrying lately. But..." He tightened a hand into a fist, and then slowly let it relax again on his thigh. "I think you know all of that already. What I wanted to say is... when you came for us, your mark against Zeth's blood magic, I wanted to tell you to run. But what you said before came back to me. I knew you were going to try, and I knew you could do it. And you did."
He didn't look quite satisfied with what he'd said, prompting him to take in a deep breath, expelling it out his nose. "I want to make sure you know that what you did was incredible."
“Um." Estella cleared her throat softly. She thought he was really remembering things quite differently from the way she remembered them. She hadn't exactly achieved much, and as far as she could tell, there wasn't anything incredible about it. “I don't really..." she trailed off and sighed.
Estella ducked her head, brushing her cheek against her shoulder. The pale fur was soft there, under her skin. “It's... you're always putting yourself between everyone else and danger. Maybe especially me." She certainly needed the help more often than most people did. “Khari is too, of course." She smiled a little at the thought of the rambunctious woman who'd somehow become one of her closest friends over the last year and a half or so. Not something she'd have predicted, but there it was. “But you... even if you say it's what you should be doing, even if to you it's just part of fighting the way you do..." She struggled to find the words.
“I want—more than anything, I want to protect my friends, too. That's the most important thing, to me. It's what all this is for, in a way. Or at least it's easier for me to make it about that." She could make herself sick thinking about the pressure involved in protecting the entire world from someone like Corypheus. “I can't—I won't ask anyone to put their lives on the line for this—for me—if I'm not willing to do the same." She hated the very idea of being someone who had to be looked after like a fragile object. One of the reasons her so-called importance to the cause rankled. “That's part of me, like it's part of you. I'm just... not as suited to it. That's the only difference between what I did then and what you do every time we take the field."
"I know it's a part of you," Ves said, offering an attempt at an encouraging smile, though it faltered a little, as he began to look somewhat uncertain. "And it's beautiful. I... I don't mean—I'm not explaining this right, I'm sorry." He put two fingers to his forehead momentarily, suppressing a bit of tension in his jaw. Clearly he was struggling with something he badly wanted to get out.
Finally, he shifted in his seat, turning more to face her. He shifted one arm up to the back of the bench, picking one foot up off the ground and lifting in onto the wooden surface as Estella had done, his other arm draped over the knee. He focused on her intently. "Let me try again. I'm going to tell you something, and... and it might be difficult for you to hear. So I want you to try, just for this, to block out everything else. Forget about being Inquisitor, forget about your mark, or our roles in battle, or anything that complicates all of this. I don't know if that's possible, but I want you to give it your all. Can you do that for me?"
She swallowed thickly, a knot of discomfort forming and settling in the pit of her stomach. Tension rose into her back and shoulders; she tried to keep it from becoming obvious. “I'll try," she said carefully, unable to keep some of that reflexive caution from shading her voice.
"You, Estella Avenarius, are a captivating woman."
He let it sit for a moment, refusing to let his eyes leave hers, though he clearly had more to say. "You were when I first met you, you are in this very moment, and the person you're becoming will be too. It has nothing to do with your mark, or the importance you may or may not have. These are things that have happened to you, but they're not what defines you. They're not what makes you beautiful." He took a breath, shifting a bit, briefly collecting his thoughts.
"If I've ever been over-protective of you, it's because of who you are, not what you are. Who you are is someone I've come to care deeply about, because of precisely what you just said. I swear that I will protect you anytime you need it, but I promise to let you do the same when it's my turn. Which it will be, I know now, many times again." He still looked uncertain to say the least, and more than a little nervous. It was an unusual thing to see in him in any situation, and though it obviously had him rattled, he pushed forward.
The arm draped on his knee shifted, his hand reaching for Estella's own knee and carefully attempting to find its way through her fingers. "If you don't believe any of these things about yourself... then try to trust me. I don't care what anyone else thinks of you, or what anyone says you are or what you have to do or be. In this, even your opinion of yourself can't change my mind."
He squeezed gently against her hand. "You're breathtaking, Stel."
The knot in her guts exploded as soon as he'd finished the first sentence. Feeling shot from her stomach, to her chest, to her throat, cutting off her breath for interminable seconds, but the utter silence only made it easier to hear him. She felt like someone had hit her point-blank with a lightning spell. Like she was going to be sick and going to cry and going to shatter, all at once, split open at the seams and dissolve.
Because no one, no one, had ever—
The stricken expression on her face remained, even as the tears spilled over her cheeks and she took a deep, shuddering breath, raising her free hand to her mouth, not in enough time to trap the soft noise she made. It was too much, and not enough, and everything was wrong, and she was wrong. She was a disappointment, always a disappointment. There were a dozen good reasons to stop anything before it started, a dozen voices in her head whispering that this would fail like everything else and it would be all her fault.
Closing her eyes for a long moment, she let her hand fall away. “Ves, I—" Lie, lie, lie, she commanded herself. She needed to say something, anything; protect the both of them from what became of her every attempt to cherish. “I..." Say she didn't feel anything beyond warm friendship, like she hadn't been hopelessly gone for months and doing a poor job of concealing it. Like the color of his eyes wasn't the easiest shade of green to her mind. Like she had never feared how much she enjoyed his company. Anything.
But she couldn't. The lie choked her, and wouldn't make it to her tongue. This was a mess. She was a mess. It wasn't as simple as telling the truth, either. Maybe it would never be simple. To trust someone this much.
Estella unfolded herself, leaning into him quite suddenly, winding her free hand around him and clenching the fabric of his tunic in her fingers. She pressed her brow to his sternum, holding on as desperately as if there was a storm and he was an anchor. Her voice cracked, muffled against him, but she hoped he heard her anyway.
“Thank you."
He pushed the absurd lion's pelt from her head, the fur falling to the bench behind her, but he draped his arms around her instead and held securely, steadily, warmly. Breathing slowly, in and out, like rising and falling of waves off the Wounded Coast. His head lowered against hers, chin near her temple, lips and breath against her hair.
"Of course."
She wasn't sure the meditating was helping anything, and part of her wanted to be working on applications of all this right away, to learn something that might at least be useful in a fight situation. A step towards solving the problem that had prompted her to ask his help in the first place. But by this point, she knew that she had to do things the long, slow way if she wanted to achieve anything at all. So she would do this the long, slow way and see what came of it.
Putting the cork back in the canister and hitting it with the side of her fist, Estella flowed to her feet. From the position of the sun in the sky, she was just about due at Rilien's tower. She was training with Ves today, before Khari arrived for the same. They seemed to be able to keep on a fairly steady rotation with each other, though this extra training she was doing now meant it wasn't as easy as it used to be. She hadn't really told anyone what she was doing yet, except Cyrus and Rilien; she wasn't sure she wanted to make a big deal of it before there were any results to show for it. She'd tell Khari soon, of course, just to update her on that conversation they'd had about it, but...
Shaking the thoughts from her head, Estella made her way to Rilien's tower, hooking the canister to her belt and re-tying her hair into its tail as she went, higher on her head this time, in anticipation of the vigorous activity to follow. Ves might not think much of his natural talent as a warrior, but she thought he might have picked up more than he believed. And in any case, battle had never been natural to her, either. In that sense, she thought maybe they helped each other.
She found him outside the tower, in fact, sitting on a bench not far from the entrance. Normally, he just went right in; he and Khari both knew they were welcome in the area. Rilien certainly didn't mind. Estella tilted her head at him as she approached, stopping within easy speaking distance. “Ves?"
He sat with a relaxed posture, half-geared up in his armor. He'd gotten his leg guards over the boots and the open skirt of steel on, but he'd stopped there, his upper body only covered by a blue, soft-looking tunic with long sleeves. Well, that and the proud white lion draped over his shoulders, providing him some protection from the cold. It wasn't a particularly freezing day, but the snow wasn't really melting either. At least the wind wasn't whipping through the fortress.
"I was gearing up, ready for another long session of reflex testing." The evidence of that was obvious enough; his shield and practice spear were propped against the wall, as well as the axe if he preferred to try that as well, and the rest of his gear was in a neat pile next to him on the ground. "Then I thought it might be nice to simply relax for an afternoon. Just once. We can get back to the endless toil when we're done." He smiled, pushing away a bit of snow from a spot on the bench next to him. He seemed to be in a good mood. "What do you say? Sit with me?"
Estella considered that for a moment. The thought of just... taking the afternoon off made her feel vaguely guilty of something. Training, work: these things were constant for her because they needed to be. But she knew no one else would begrudge her a day without them. The guilt was entirely self-generated. She dithered about it for a moment more, then nodded, half smiling and moving to take the spot he'd cleared.
“I suppose it won't hurt," she admitted, leaning back against the stone and pulling her feet up so that her heels rested on the edge, letting her drape her arms over her knees, containing herself in minimal space. Old habit. “I don't think I've had a free afternoon since..." She actually wasn't sure when the last time was. “Well. It was a long time ago, anyway." She huffed softly, shaking her head.
"There are some things we could talk about, so the time isn't completely wasted." They were just about touching shoulders, some of the fur on the lion's pelt brushing lightly against her each time Ves took a breath. "But first... you look like you've been outside a while. Has this Argent Lion ever worn a lion's pelt? And would she like to?" There was something of a mischievous twinkle in his eye. It was something she hadn't seen in a while, likely not since the events of Adamant Fortress. The corners of his lips were quirked upwards, and remaining there. "I'm actually getting a bit warm, so I don't mind."
Estella coughed, turning her face to the side a fair bit. It wasn't likely to do anything to hide the awkward flush creeping up her neck and face. Just like that, she was tilted off-balance. She cleared her throat, recovering her equilibrium as quickly as she could scrape it together, arranging her face into something that looked more like the collected amusement she should have been reacting with. Only then did she turn back. “I'd look absurd," she replied, “Argent Lion or not. But if you're feeling a little overheated, allow me to humbly accept the burden of ridicule, for your amusement and comfort."
"Absurd? Never. Here, lean forward a bit." His grin growing a little, he pulled off the heavy pelt and shifted in his seat somewhat, lifting it and draping it over her back. It actually wasn't as heavy as it looked, and did a great deal to immediately block out the cold, at least where it covered. She quickly noticed, however, that he wasn't aligning it over her shoulders as he did for himself, with the head perched atop his left shoulder. Instead he had it aligned centrally, carefully pulling the hood so to speak up and setting it down gently atop her head. Out of her peripherals she could see the two largest of its teeth dropping down just into line of sight.
Ves leaned forward and reached to adjust it slightly. "Oh, that is... Stel, I might have to give this to you. You look ferocious." He examined his work for a second before what little of a straight face he had cracked, and he snorted. "No, no, I'm sorry. It's good. Like a Chasind warlord or something. Need to get you some warpaint."
She imagined she looked more like an agitated kitten than a Chasind warlord, and narrowed her eyes at him. “Grr," she deadpanned, a passable imitation of Rilien if she did say so herself. Picking up one of the 'arms' of the creature, she moved her own so that it was underneath, then punched him in the bicep with a lion-covered fist. “Your Graceface is awful, Ves." Estella huffed, shifting the pelt around a little so it wrapped comfortably around her, but she left the hood of sorts where it was. She was quite warm, after all, and vanity was not among her many flaws as far as she knew, so looking silly didn't bother her much.
Propping her chin on her knees, she turned her head sideways a bit so he was in her field of vision. “Remind me why it was a good idea to take the afternoon off, again? The company is simply abominable, it seems." Her tone easily gave the lie—she only sounded weary in a farcical fashion, and quite intentionally so.
Ves let himself fall back against the wall again, exhaling a very satisfied sigh. "Well for one, I have missed having some things to laugh about." It seemed to be more of a serious sentiment than he'd meant, and ended up having the opposite effect intended, causing his smile to noticeably shrink. Still, his good mood seemed to be unshakable, and no doubt Estella's willingness to play along was contributing to that. "But there were a few things I wanted to talk about. To start, something changed with Saraya last night."
Preempting any concern she might have for that, he lolled his head sideways to look at her. "But it's a good thing, I promise. I woke this morning, and... Saraya had slept through the night. Sleep. She hasn't had that in..." He shook his head. "About as long since you took an afternoon off, I think." It was obviously a joke, albeit one that intended to receive no laughs. Ves had mentioned before that Saraya was unable to sleep at all, simply locked into a state of always being aware.
It got a small smile out of her, anyway, though the expression was more thoughtful than amused. She couldn't imagine not sleeping for any considerable period of time. Then again, she didn't know if Saraya got tired as such or not. Still... even without actual physical or mental fatigue, she thought there might be something wearying about constant awareness, anyway. Even though she'd never been a very good mage, she'd always valued the time she could spend drifting peacefully in the Fade, like any sleeping human, elf, or Qunari did. Even the dreamless nights weren't so bad. It was such a mundane, obvious part of life that Estella found it hard to even conceive of doing without it.
“Did she feel okay, when she woke? No lethargy or anything?" She had to assume there had been no major complications, or he wouldn't be speaking of it in this way. “I'm happy for her. For you both; it must be a relief, in a way." The only thing was, if this was new, then it was likely a development due to what Zethlasan had done to them, and that—she wasn't sure she could believe something good could come of something like that. But maybe it could. Ves deserved something good from it, and Saraya too.
"She could always go into a sort of... trance, I suppose. Something she learned to do in the stillness of the ruins, a way to force all thoughts to leave her. But it required a quiet and a lack of input from me that she hasn't been able to find as much since I found her. Sleep is... an easier thing to come by. And she felt fine, came to quickly." He exhaled and shrugged, seeming to realize where the conversation was naturally coming to. "I'd like to think that Nightmare was just preying on my fears. And that Zeth really was intending to help, in a twisted way. It still wasn't his choice, you were still right to stop him. I don't regret any of it. But it's nice to think we might be able to do this, she and I. Coexist more effectively than we have. Someday."
He bumped lightly into her shoulder with his. "Don't worry. Your brother, Harellan, and I are still going to make every move with utmost caution." The obvious thought occurred to him. "Oh, met him by the way. Interesting man, Saraya even thought so. He said he's teaching you?" The question was asked in a gentle, half-cautious way, as he seemed to do when prying. Evidence that he wouldn't mind if she had little she wanted to share.
Did she want to share just a little? Or more than that? Estella found it was an honest question, and the answer wasn't immediate. On the one hand, she wasn't settled on how she felt about everything herself, and the knowledge was so new. It was hardly the thing to talk about, if one wanted things to laugh about. But the conversation had taken a more serious turn, and... she felt strange, sitting on the revelation all by herself. She hadn't even been able to bring herself to have a proper conversation about it with Cyrus yet, though she knew he knew she knew. Even having to describe it that way meant it was far too complicated.
But he was coping with so much right now; she didn't feel right forcing him to deal with all of this at the same time. Sighing softly, Estella placed her hands over her raised knees, pushing back a little bit. The cold flooded in until the pelt fell a little further forward to cut off the chill air. “He is," she said, glancing down at her fingers for a moment, then looking up to find his eyes. She swallowed.
“He's... he says he's my uncle. My father's brother." Twin, even, which probably meant he looked just like him, something she hadn't yet dared to consider too closely. “I think I believe him. But it was... a shock, you know? I'd known him before, but he never gave any sign." She could understand that. It was Tevinter, and people had to be very careful with things like that in Tevinter. Lineage and blood could mean everything there, and often did. If he'd told her, and she'd given it away... who knew what would have become of her? Or worse, Cyrus, apprenticed to a Magister and slated to one day be the same?
"That demon mentioned something like that. Elf-blooded." He spoke more quietly, likely both due to the nature of the subject, and just because Obsession was not something to speak in loud tones about. "Saraya knew in the Between, though I didn't catch on then. You saw the colors the same as I did." He breathed out slowly, taking a moment to think. His fingers were reddening slightly, but if he was at all cold, he didn't show it. Perhaps it had something to do with being Fereldan-born.
"I can't imagine what that must be like for you. I knew who and what my parents were as soon as I knew how I was different from the people living outside the Alienage. And Tevinter complicates things, as it always does." Another long pause. He watched a pair of mages jog across the grounds in the distance, heading to begin more aggressive spell practice for the day. "Thank you for telling me. Harellan seems genuine enough, though the choice of name makes that a little harder to accept. Saraya was very intrigued by him, to be honest. Or rather, the symbols he wore. They looked like normal symbols of Mythal to me, but... I don't know, no one's ever caught her attention that way."
“It's not the kindest name. But he must have a reason for using it for himself. In a way, that almost makes me more sure that it's nothing to worry about." She couldn't be sure, of course; he seemed very complicated, to her, and they had known each other for so little time, the years Falon had been at the periphery of her life in the Chantry notwithstanding. “I'm not sure what to make of him, but he's—" She sighed softly.
“I never knew anything about my family. Only seldom would anyone so much as speak of my mother. I used to say her name to myself at night, over and over, so I wouldn't forget what it was. Iphigenia Pharis Aella Avenarius. A mouthful, for a child, but I didn't want to lose any of it. Now I have two names, and maybe someday I'll have more than just those." Her hands shifted, arms crossing over herself to gently tug the edges of the pelt closer about her shoulders, huffing. Her breath fogged for a second before it dissipated. “If he ever tells me what the symbols are about, I'll be sure to let you know." A tiny smile curved her mouth.
"Thank you." He fell silent for a long moment. The sound of distant spells carried over the air, echoing off of Skyhold's walls. Ves seemed to be thinking something over, or perhaps just putting together the words he wanted in his head before he spoke. When he finally did, it was with the same soft tone as before.
"About what happened in the ruin..." He hesitated, almost wincing, but continued. "There are a hundred things I could think to say. That I'm sorry I didn't see the danger, and pulled you and Khari into it. That I'm grateful you came, even with everything you've been carrying lately. But..." He tightened a hand into a fist, and then slowly let it relax again on his thigh. "I think you know all of that already. What I wanted to say is... when you came for us, your mark against Zeth's blood magic, I wanted to tell you to run. But what you said before came back to me. I knew you were going to try, and I knew you could do it. And you did."
He didn't look quite satisfied with what he'd said, prompting him to take in a deep breath, expelling it out his nose. "I want to make sure you know that what you did was incredible."
“Um." Estella cleared her throat softly. She thought he was really remembering things quite differently from the way she remembered them. She hadn't exactly achieved much, and as far as she could tell, there wasn't anything incredible about it. “I don't really..." she trailed off and sighed.
Estella ducked her head, brushing her cheek against her shoulder. The pale fur was soft there, under her skin. “It's... you're always putting yourself between everyone else and danger. Maybe especially me." She certainly needed the help more often than most people did. “Khari is too, of course." She smiled a little at the thought of the rambunctious woman who'd somehow become one of her closest friends over the last year and a half or so. Not something she'd have predicted, but there it was. “But you... even if you say it's what you should be doing, even if to you it's just part of fighting the way you do..." She struggled to find the words.
“I want—more than anything, I want to protect my friends, too. That's the most important thing, to me. It's what all this is for, in a way. Or at least it's easier for me to make it about that." She could make herself sick thinking about the pressure involved in protecting the entire world from someone like Corypheus. “I can't—I won't ask anyone to put their lives on the line for this—for me—if I'm not willing to do the same." She hated the very idea of being someone who had to be looked after like a fragile object. One of the reasons her so-called importance to the cause rankled. “That's part of me, like it's part of you. I'm just... not as suited to it. That's the only difference between what I did then and what you do every time we take the field."
"I know it's a part of you," Ves said, offering an attempt at an encouraging smile, though it faltered a little, as he began to look somewhat uncertain. "And it's beautiful. I... I don't mean—I'm not explaining this right, I'm sorry." He put two fingers to his forehead momentarily, suppressing a bit of tension in his jaw. Clearly he was struggling with something he badly wanted to get out.
Finally, he shifted in his seat, turning more to face her. He shifted one arm up to the back of the bench, picking one foot up off the ground and lifting in onto the wooden surface as Estella had done, his other arm draped over the knee. He focused on her intently. "Let me try again. I'm going to tell you something, and... and it might be difficult for you to hear. So I want you to try, just for this, to block out everything else. Forget about being Inquisitor, forget about your mark, or our roles in battle, or anything that complicates all of this. I don't know if that's possible, but I want you to give it your all. Can you do that for me?"
She swallowed thickly, a knot of discomfort forming and settling in the pit of her stomach. Tension rose into her back and shoulders; she tried to keep it from becoming obvious. “I'll try," she said carefully, unable to keep some of that reflexive caution from shading her voice.
"You, Estella Avenarius, are a captivating woman."
He let it sit for a moment, refusing to let his eyes leave hers, though he clearly had more to say. "You were when I first met you, you are in this very moment, and the person you're becoming will be too. It has nothing to do with your mark, or the importance you may or may not have. These are things that have happened to you, but they're not what defines you. They're not what makes you beautiful." He took a breath, shifting a bit, briefly collecting his thoughts.
"If I've ever been over-protective of you, it's because of who you are, not what you are. Who you are is someone I've come to care deeply about, because of precisely what you just said. I swear that I will protect you anytime you need it, but I promise to let you do the same when it's my turn. Which it will be, I know now, many times again." He still looked uncertain to say the least, and more than a little nervous. It was an unusual thing to see in him in any situation, and though it obviously had him rattled, he pushed forward.
The arm draped on his knee shifted, his hand reaching for Estella's own knee and carefully attempting to find its way through her fingers. "If you don't believe any of these things about yourself... then try to trust me. I don't care what anyone else thinks of you, or what anyone says you are or what you have to do or be. In this, even your opinion of yourself can't change my mind."
He squeezed gently against her hand. "You're breathtaking, Stel."
The knot in her guts exploded as soon as he'd finished the first sentence. Feeling shot from her stomach, to her chest, to her throat, cutting off her breath for interminable seconds, but the utter silence only made it easier to hear him. She felt like someone had hit her point-blank with a lightning spell. Like she was going to be sick and going to cry and going to shatter, all at once, split open at the seams and dissolve.
Because no one, no one, had ever—
The stricken expression on her face remained, even as the tears spilled over her cheeks and she took a deep, shuddering breath, raising her free hand to her mouth, not in enough time to trap the soft noise she made. It was too much, and not enough, and everything was wrong, and she was wrong. She was a disappointment, always a disappointment. There were a dozen good reasons to stop anything before it started, a dozen voices in her head whispering that this would fail like everything else and it would be all her fault.
Closing her eyes for a long moment, she let her hand fall away. “Ves, I—" Lie, lie, lie, she commanded herself. She needed to say something, anything; protect the both of them from what became of her every attempt to cherish. “I..." Say she didn't feel anything beyond warm friendship, like she hadn't been hopelessly gone for months and doing a poor job of concealing it. Like the color of his eyes wasn't the easiest shade of green to her mind. Like she had never feared how much she enjoyed his company. Anything.
But she couldn't. The lie choked her, and wouldn't make it to her tongue. This was a mess. She was a mess. It wasn't as simple as telling the truth, either. Maybe it would never be simple. To trust someone this much.
Estella unfolded herself, leaning into him quite suddenly, winding her free hand around him and clenching the fabric of his tunic in her fingers. She pressed her brow to his sternum, holding on as desperately as if there was a storm and he was an anchor. Her voice cracked, muffled against him, but she hoped he heard her anyway.
“Thank you."
He pushed the absurd lion's pelt from her head, the fur falling to the bench behind her, but he draped his arms around her instead and held securely, steadily, warmly. Breathing slowly, in and out, like rising and falling of waves off the Wounded Coast. His head lowered against hers, chin near her temple, lips and breath against her hair.
"Of course."