Estella double-checked the girth strap of Nox's saddle, sliding two fingers between it and the spot just behind the horse's forequarters, finding it snug but not tight. That was for the best; she'd hate to take a fall outside Skyhold. While she was relatively confident in her skills as horsewoman, she knew better than to neglect the basics of anything.
The air coming into the open stable from outside was pleasantly-cool; the summer would soon become autumn once again. Those became quickly-chill here in the mountains, but for a few weeks at least the weather was absolutely lovely, and she meant to enjoy it as much as possible this year. She was trying to enjoy things more in general—admittedly it seemed that their task would never end sometimes, and it was better to take what happiness she could find now than continue to delay her search for it until after.
As she'd pointed out to Sophia, she could hardly depend on after in any case.
Placing her foot into the stirrup, she swung astride in a smooth, familiar motion, Nox remaining obligingly still underneath her. He was a good horse, even-tempered and sturdy, but fast as the very best of chargers were. Also a bit of a spoiled dandy, but that was entirely her fault. Picking up her reins, she turned to glance back over her shoulder at Ves. "I was thinking we might head out and along the river, if you don't mind?" They'd had standing plans for an afternoon off for a while now, but this was the first opportunity she'd had to make good on the idea. She was looking forward to it, or trying to. Taking happiness where she could get it was a lot harder when one of the most important parts of it was himself in such unenviable condition.
Ves certainly hadn't improved any in her absence, or since she'd returned from Kirkwall. He'd never been the darkest of elves, but his color had been especially pale lately, and not from lack of sun. He'd been spending more time outdoors than in all summer, working as much as his body would allow him. It sadly wasn't all that much.
He had, however, obviously taken extra care to clean himself up today, having freshly bathed and washed his clothes, his hair in particular flowing freely instead of being tied up in the tail he'd been keeping it in often lately. He'd even put on some of his armor today, pieces below the waist and on his forearms, imitating the roguish sellsword look he'd fashioned for wandering around Val Royeaux with her. It couldn't hide the fact that he was losing some weight, or the darkened shadows lingering around his eyes, but it was a marked improvement over how he'd been the last week or so.
"I'll race you," he said with a small grin, starting forward. He did so very slowly, however, and turned to look back once he'd gotten few feet ahead with his plodding pace, resting his chin on his shoulder. "You'll never catch me, Lady Inquisitor."
And there it was again, sneaking up on her the way it seemed to. Estella cracked a smile, wider than she'd meant it, but even that didn't quite hem in the laughter. "I fear I'm already hopelessly behind and shall never catch up," she replied, giving Nox a gentle nudge with her heels until he, too, was moving along at a sedate walking pace.
They could easily walk two abreast out of the gate and across the bridge, so she maneuvered up next to him directly, rolling up the sleeves of her tunic to her elbows when she found the sun to be a little warmer than she was expecting. Their horses' shoes rang softly against the stone of the single span across the chasm between where the castle was perched and the mountain path proper. As always, the sheer scale of it all impressed her, though she didn't spend too much time looking around. At the moment, the only thing that really interested her much was him anyway.
She wasn't eager to broach the topic, nor did she anticipate Ves being especially eager to talk about it. But she'd avoided asking for a while now, and her concern could only be contained for so long. Still... at least she had something by way of news to deliver this time. Estella turned her eyes out towards the path ahead, steering Nox to the left, down towards the snowmelt-lake where the river originated.
"Harellan says he's making progress," she said quietly. "He has a friend where he's from, I think. They're working on getting us a safe way in." Apparently there were a lot of magical defenses around the settlement itself that would need to be properly disarmed or bypassed. She was trying to be content with leaving her uncle to handle that part, and to trust him when he said it could go no faster.
"That's good." Indeed, Ves didn't sound like the topic was what he preferred, but it was obvious that he understood the necessity of covering it. His... illness, his deterioration had come to dominate his every day, to the point where every moment was spent fighting it, or thinking about it. On top of that, he had two minds thinking about it, leaving him little escape. "I'm not sure how long I can wait around here."
They reached the end of the bridge, continuing onto the mountain path, twisting down towards the river. "It's not just physical, either," he continued. "The last time I felt this consistently helpless was... before I met Saraya. I was a child. I feel like a child now. Dead weight. And I have to watch you and the others ride out, wondering if this might be the time someone gets unlucky. If it's you. If that knife hits an inch more to the left." He reached up, tracing a finger along his own neck where her newest scar was. His expression softened. "No lasting effects apart from the scar, right? You're okay?"
Almost reflexively, Estella reached up and touched the spot, beginning just beneath her ear and dragging her fingertip right under the line of her jaw. She didn't want to speculate about whether it would have been preventable, if he were there. Thinking like that wasn't going to help either of them, and the hypotheticals could be paralyzing if she let them be. "I'm fine." She let her hand drop again, then shook her head. Maybe that wasn't quite true. "Physically, anyway."
Squeezing the reins in her hands, Estella fixed her eyes on Nox's ears in front of her. The right one swiveled backwards when she spoke, as if he were making sure he heard her. "Em, she... when she came at me with the knife, I used my magic to stop her heart." He knew most of the story, enough to know who Em was and that Estella was the one responsible for her having the knife in the first place. "I just reached inside and..." The scenery in front of her disappeared when she squeezed her eyes shut.
It was so easy to remember, even now. She'd always felt that there was something almost uncomfortably-intimate about the way her magic worked. She'd known she'd likely never use it on anyone she didn't know well, barring an emergency, because it seemed so... invasive, in a way. To interfere with the way their bodies worked on such a basic level. But even that discomfort wasn't the same as this. Remembering exactly how it felt to kill someone, without anything more than a touch.
Not that it was something she could just do all the time, of course. It had taken nearly everything she had at the time to do it, and left her exhausted and ill afterwards, though part of that might have been the red lyrium. But— "I'm having nightmares about it," she confessed. "About what actually happened, and then sometimes about getting it wrong. About trying to help someone, use it to make them stronger, and then... killing them instead." She'd woken in more than one cold sweat, but whatever sleep he could get was so precious she'd dared not disturb him then. "Cyrus, you, Khari... most everyone at some point or another."
He didn't answer for a long moment, taking slow, steady breaths as their horses carried them lower. As steady as he could manage, anyway. Nothing about him was steady anymore, not physically at least. He looked about to respond several times, each time showing himself to be more frustrated than the last. "Everything I can think to say feels so inadequate. If I said 'I trust you' or 'I believe in you' or 'you can do this.' I'd like to think you know all that by now. But of course, knowing you're capable of something doesn't mean there's no chance of failure anymore. Still... maybe there's some way I can properly put what I feel to words."
He thought about it a moment longer, clearly forcing his mind to shift away from the path, or the pain, or just keeping himself in the saddle. It seemed that when he did that, he actually relaxed more, did all those things without thinking. "I've had nightmares, too," he admitted. "About the Fade. Not the part where we were together, but before, when I didn't know where I was. When my only company was an illusion of you." She had arrived just in time to see the aftermath of that, but little of what they'd discussed before. "In my nightmares it isn't an illusion, it's really you, and my spear still finds your heart. Saraya's never in the dream with me, it's just me, guessing, always guessing wrong. I kill you, and then I wander the Fade alone, lost."
His hands tightened on his reins, knuckles brushing against the leather of his saddle. "But every time I wake up I remember that Saraya was there with me, and I remember the trust I had in her. That complete faith, to put myself in her hands, and let her guide the spear straight and true, knowing that if she's wrong, I'll be broken. I might never recover." He looked sideways at her, and shook his head. "But there isn't any doubt, while I have her. There's no chance she's wrong." He leaned a little closer towards her, not enough to be in danger of falling from the saddle.
"I trust you the same way. I can't put words to it, not perfectly anyway. But I know you won't do what you're afraid of. You have never used any power of yours, physical, magical, political, or otherwise, without the utmost care. I don't think this is any different."
It felt different, though. Something about the act of hurting someone the way she'd killed Em was... too visceral. Even the distance of daggerpoint seemed like so much more, even if the result was the same. Estella knew it wasn't something she'd be able to stop worrying about—perhaps that was for the best. Perhaps a power like that should be the subject of worry. At least she'd never take the option because it was easy.
The amount of faith Ves seemed to have in her was staggering, though—she more than most understood just what it meant, to even be mentioned in the same breath as Saraya in any respect. It wasn't something he'd say unless he really believed it, and it wasn't something he'd have come to believe on a whim, either. A little bit of frivolity was just part of his nature, but she'd long since learned that Ves was sincere when it mattered. She exhaled softly, lifting her eyes to meet his and attempting a smile. "That means more than I can say, so I guess neither of us has all the words we want," she said, just as sincere. "And I hope—I hope you're right. I'd like to think you are."
It was the kind of thing that only time could tell, however. A little more settled, at least, Estella let herself spend a moment taking in the surroundings. The trail they'd wound up on was mostly unworn, only flattened grass to indicate previous passage, but it ran right alongside the river, the relaxing sound of water burbling over current-smoothed stone the most prominent one, save the occasional cries of birds overhead. The fainter buzz of summer insects hummed steadily in the background, almost too low to notice.
They were content to ride in silence for a time, but after a minute or two had passed Ves reached somewhat clumsily sideways, his hand brushing against Estella's forearm. "I think we should stop for a moment." Without waiting for an answer he pulled his horse to a standstill, swinging a leg out of the stirrup and lowering himself to the ground. It was an awkward motion, devoid of any of his usual grace, and indeed he immediately fell after his boots hit the grass, taking him down to hands and knees at the river's edge. He wavered there a moment, his head bobbing a few times, blinking rapidly, taking irregular breaths.
Estella pulled Nox up immediately, swinging herself from the saddle and landing lightly. She didn't want to crowd him, but her instinct was to be within arms' reach, so she lowered herself to her knees in front of where he'd fallen, sitting back on her legs and reaching far enough to place her hand on his shoulder. "Ves?" A dozen questions were contained in the name, but she gave explicit voice to none of them.
He didn't answer at first, and did nothing at all until his breathing had normalized, and consciousness stopped threatening to leave him. At that point he slid around to be at Estella's side, reaching a hand into the cold mountain water of the river, and splashing it on his face. He didn't really need to answer. His reactions were enough. He was getting worse, and quickly. And there was nothing to be done about it but to wait.
Frustrated, he smacked the surface of the water with the palm of his hand, sending a spray of it out away from them. "Damn it, why?" he said. The words were pretty clearly not directed at her, but at the third party that was always with them. Wiping briefly at his wet face with his sleeve, Ves tipped back until he was seated, leaning slightly into Estella's touch.
"I've been trying to arrange something, since... well, since there's a chance I won't make it out of this. Or a chance I won't be myself at some point." He let that sit for a second, reaching up to push away the hair that had fallen around his face. "I've learned so much about the elves, about our history and what we used to be. But in all that time, I've learned next to nothing about Saraya. About who she was, what she did in her life. The people she loved, the people she fought alongside. I rarely ever asked, but now that I want to know, now that our time feels like it's running out... she won't tell me. Still she keeps it from me."
Estella shut her eyes, swallowing thickly. She had to acknowledge the reality of the possibilities, but that didn't ever make it easy to do. Releasing a long, slow breath, she tried to think about the more immediate conundrum he had instead, shifting her hand so she was combing her fingers through his hair. She'd managed to admit how much she enjoyed the feel of it, though that hadn't exactly been easy to spit out.
"I can understand that, honestly," she said after a while. "Every time we've come in contact with anything that reminds her of those people or events, it's just been... pain." The Fade, the demon-possessed house in the Emerald Graves, Zethlasan's blood magic—Estella wasn't sure there was anything in Saraya's history that wouldn't hurt to remember. "Probably even the good things hurt now, because they're so long gone, never to return." Considering how she'd ended up, it wasn't too difficult to imagine that even the sweetest memories were tinged with bitterness now. Maybe more than tinged; fermented in it.
"But even if it's painful," Ves said, turning in his seat to face her better, "she's the only one who remembers now. Isn't that how the good things can stay alive, even just a little? If I die, if she dies, and I can't figure any of this out first, it's like who she was is just... it never existed. She's helped do great things now, but there was a time where she was a full person, she was vibrant and full of life, and she had hopes and dreams..."
He winced. It wasn't at all clear if it was from pain in his head or just a feeling he received from Saraya. "Will you say something to her? I don't know how to convince her that her life is worth remembering, that she should be more than just a ghost lingering here for a while longer."
"I—" Estella paused, dropping her hand back to her lap and pursing her lips. She really had no idea how she was supposed to convince Saraya of anything Vesryn couldn't. Especially something so personal. Shifting in her seat, she pulled her legs up near her chest and wrapped her arms around them, propping her chin on her knees and trying to find the words. Because of course what he said was true, but it was clear enough that none of the more straightforward ways of saying that had worked. No doubt Ves had tried them all.
"I guess I..." she trailed off, turning her head so that she could make eye contact with Ves. She knew Saraya saw out of his eyes, so to speak, so it was really all she could do, as far as addressing her directly. "I don't know what happened to cause you so much pain. Maybe it's worse than anything I can ever imagine. I'm not sure if it was something that was done to you, or something you did, or maybe both, but... nobody deserves to be forgotten. Not you, and not the people you knew and loved. And right now, Saraya, you're our only link to any of it. The only one who can make sure that the people you remember are the people we'll remember." She hesitated, and pulled in a breath.
"I know what it's like to feel as though you don't deserve recognition or praise, or for anyone to care about you or remember you. You... you saw that, when you and I were in my head, with the demon. You know how awful I felt, how... how unworthy. And you helped me anyway. For as terrible and—and not worth the effort as I thought I was, you thought differently. We'd like—we'd like the chance to do the same, for you. Because you matter to us. Both of us." Estella couldn't feel her presence or be nudged by her instincts, but she did care. Not just for what Saraya had done for someone she cherished, though that was of course part of it.
Ves waited for a while after she'd finished, eyes falling low, no doubt trying to parse through Saraya's feelings, her reaction. Eventually, a tear slipped down his cheek, quite possibly not his own in origin. He wiped at it, taking a shaky breath.
"I think her mind's just made up," he said, an immense sadness to his words. "I'm not sure anyone has the power to change it." He scooted across the ground to be at her side, draping an arm around her shoulders. He watched the river flow by them, listened to the sound of it, and the birds, and the insects, and the horses behind them. He turned his head enough to kiss her hair.
"Thank you for trying. You said it better than I ever could."
The air coming into the open stable from outside was pleasantly-cool; the summer would soon become autumn once again. Those became quickly-chill here in the mountains, but for a few weeks at least the weather was absolutely lovely, and she meant to enjoy it as much as possible this year. She was trying to enjoy things more in general—admittedly it seemed that their task would never end sometimes, and it was better to take what happiness she could find now than continue to delay her search for it until after.
As she'd pointed out to Sophia, she could hardly depend on after in any case.
Placing her foot into the stirrup, she swung astride in a smooth, familiar motion, Nox remaining obligingly still underneath her. He was a good horse, even-tempered and sturdy, but fast as the very best of chargers were. Also a bit of a spoiled dandy, but that was entirely her fault. Picking up her reins, she turned to glance back over her shoulder at Ves. "I was thinking we might head out and along the river, if you don't mind?" They'd had standing plans for an afternoon off for a while now, but this was the first opportunity she'd had to make good on the idea. She was looking forward to it, or trying to. Taking happiness where she could get it was a lot harder when one of the most important parts of it was himself in such unenviable condition.
Ves certainly hadn't improved any in her absence, or since she'd returned from Kirkwall. He'd never been the darkest of elves, but his color had been especially pale lately, and not from lack of sun. He'd been spending more time outdoors than in all summer, working as much as his body would allow him. It sadly wasn't all that much.
He had, however, obviously taken extra care to clean himself up today, having freshly bathed and washed his clothes, his hair in particular flowing freely instead of being tied up in the tail he'd been keeping it in often lately. He'd even put on some of his armor today, pieces below the waist and on his forearms, imitating the roguish sellsword look he'd fashioned for wandering around Val Royeaux with her. It couldn't hide the fact that he was losing some weight, or the darkened shadows lingering around his eyes, but it was a marked improvement over how he'd been the last week or so.
"I'll race you," he said with a small grin, starting forward. He did so very slowly, however, and turned to look back once he'd gotten few feet ahead with his plodding pace, resting his chin on his shoulder. "You'll never catch me, Lady Inquisitor."
And there it was again, sneaking up on her the way it seemed to. Estella cracked a smile, wider than she'd meant it, but even that didn't quite hem in the laughter. "I fear I'm already hopelessly behind and shall never catch up," she replied, giving Nox a gentle nudge with her heels until he, too, was moving along at a sedate walking pace.
They could easily walk two abreast out of the gate and across the bridge, so she maneuvered up next to him directly, rolling up the sleeves of her tunic to her elbows when she found the sun to be a little warmer than she was expecting. Their horses' shoes rang softly against the stone of the single span across the chasm between where the castle was perched and the mountain path proper. As always, the sheer scale of it all impressed her, though she didn't spend too much time looking around. At the moment, the only thing that really interested her much was him anyway.
She wasn't eager to broach the topic, nor did she anticipate Ves being especially eager to talk about it. But she'd avoided asking for a while now, and her concern could only be contained for so long. Still... at least she had something by way of news to deliver this time. Estella turned her eyes out towards the path ahead, steering Nox to the left, down towards the snowmelt-lake where the river originated.
"Harellan says he's making progress," she said quietly. "He has a friend where he's from, I think. They're working on getting us a safe way in." Apparently there were a lot of magical defenses around the settlement itself that would need to be properly disarmed or bypassed. She was trying to be content with leaving her uncle to handle that part, and to trust him when he said it could go no faster.
"That's good." Indeed, Ves didn't sound like the topic was what he preferred, but it was obvious that he understood the necessity of covering it. His... illness, his deterioration had come to dominate his every day, to the point where every moment was spent fighting it, or thinking about it. On top of that, he had two minds thinking about it, leaving him little escape. "I'm not sure how long I can wait around here."
They reached the end of the bridge, continuing onto the mountain path, twisting down towards the river. "It's not just physical, either," he continued. "The last time I felt this consistently helpless was... before I met Saraya. I was a child. I feel like a child now. Dead weight. And I have to watch you and the others ride out, wondering if this might be the time someone gets unlucky. If it's you. If that knife hits an inch more to the left." He reached up, tracing a finger along his own neck where her newest scar was. His expression softened. "No lasting effects apart from the scar, right? You're okay?"
Almost reflexively, Estella reached up and touched the spot, beginning just beneath her ear and dragging her fingertip right under the line of her jaw. She didn't want to speculate about whether it would have been preventable, if he were there. Thinking like that wasn't going to help either of them, and the hypotheticals could be paralyzing if she let them be. "I'm fine." She let her hand drop again, then shook her head. Maybe that wasn't quite true. "Physically, anyway."
Squeezing the reins in her hands, Estella fixed her eyes on Nox's ears in front of her. The right one swiveled backwards when she spoke, as if he were making sure he heard her. "Em, she... when she came at me with the knife, I used my magic to stop her heart." He knew most of the story, enough to know who Em was and that Estella was the one responsible for her having the knife in the first place. "I just reached inside and..." The scenery in front of her disappeared when she squeezed her eyes shut.
It was so easy to remember, even now. She'd always felt that there was something almost uncomfortably-intimate about the way her magic worked. She'd known she'd likely never use it on anyone she didn't know well, barring an emergency, because it seemed so... invasive, in a way. To interfere with the way their bodies worked on such a basic level. But even that discomfort wasn't the same as this. Remembering exactly how it felt to kill someone, without anything more than a touch.
Not that it was something she could just do all the time, of course. It had taken nearly everything she had at the time to do it, and left her exhausted and ill afterwards, though part of that might have been the red lyrium. But— "I'm having nightmares about it," she confessed. "About what actually happened, and then sometimes about getting it wrong. About trying to help someone, use it to make them stronger, and then... killing them instead." She'd woken in more than one cold sweat, but whatever sleep he could get was so precious she'd dared not disturb him then. "Cyrus, you, Khari... most everyone at some point or another."
He didn't answer for a long moment, taking slow, steady breaths as their horses carried them lower. As steady as he could manage, anyway. Nothing about him was steady anymore, not physically at least. He looked about to respond several times, each time showing himself to be more frustrated than the last. "Everything I can think to say feels so inadequate. If I said 'I trust you' or 'I believe in you' or 'you can do this.' I'd like to think you know all that by now. But of course, knowing you're capable of something doesn't mean there's no chance of failure anymore. Still... maybe there's some way I can properly put what I feel to words."
He thought about it a moment longer, clearly forcing his mind to shift away from the path, or the pain, or just keeping himself in the saddle. It seemed that when he did that, he actually relaxed more, did all those things without thinking. "I've had nightmares, too," he admitted. "About the Fade. Not the part where we were together, but before, when I didn't know where I was. When my only company was an illusion of you." She had arrived just in time to see the aftermath of that, but little of what they'd discussed before. "In my nightmares it isn't an illusion, it's really you, and my spear still finds your heart. Saraya's never in the dream with me, it's just me, guessing, always guessing wrong. I kill you, and then I wander the Fade alone, lost."
His hands tightened on his reins, knuckles brushing against the leather of his saddle. "But every time I wake up I remember that Saraya was there with me, and I remember the trust I had in her. That complete faith, to put myself in her hands, and let her guide the spear straight and true, knowing that if she's wrong, I'll be broken. I might never recover." He looked sideways at her, and shook his head. "But there isn't any doubt, while I have her. There's no chance she's wrong." He leaned a little closer towards her, not enough to be in danger of falling from the saddle.
"I trust you the same way. I can't put words to it, not perfectly anyway. But I know you won't do what you're afraid of. You have never used any power of yours, physical, magical, political, or otherwise, without the utmost care. I don't think this is any different."
It felt different, though. Something about the act of hurting someone the way she'd killed Em was... too visceral. Even the distance of daggerpoint seemed like so much more, even if the result was the same. Estella knew it wasn't something she'd be able to stop worrying about—perhaps that was for the best. Perhaps a power like that should be the subject of worry. At least she'd never take the option because it was easy.
The amount of faith Ves seemed to have in her was staggering, though—she more than most understood just what it meant, to even be mentioned in the same breath as Saraya in any respect. It wasn't something he'd say unless he really believed it, and it wasn't something he'd have come to believe on a whim, either. A little bit of frivolity was just part of his nature, but she'd long since learned that Ves was sincere when it mattered. She exhaled softly, lifting her eyes to meet his and attempting a smile. "That means more than I can say, so I guess neither of us has all the words we want," she said, just as sincere. "And I hope—I hope you're right. I'd like to think you are."
It was the kind of thing that only time could tell, however. A little more settled, at least, Estella let herself spend a moment taking in the surroundings. The trail they'd wound up on was mostly unworn, only flattened grass to indicate previous passage, but it ran right alongside the river, the relaxing sound of water burbling over current-smoothed stone the most prominent one, save the occasional cries of birds overhead. The fainter buzz of summer insects hummed steadily in the background, almost too low to notice.
They were content to ride in silence for a time, but after a minute or two had passed Ves reached somewhat clumsily sideways, his hand brushing against Estella's forearm. "I think we should stop for a moment." Without waiting for an answer he pulled his horse to a standstill, swinging a leg out of the stirrup and lowering himself to the ground. It was an awkward motion, devoid of any of his usual grace, and indeed he immediately fell after his boots hit the grass, taking him down to hands and knees at the river's edge. He wavered there a moment, his head bobbing a few times, blinking rapidly, taking irregular breaths.
Estella pulled Nox up immediately, swinging herself from the saddle and landing lightly. She didn't want to crowd him, but her instinct was to be within arms' reach, so she lowered herself to her knees in front of where he'd fallen, sitting back on her legs and reaching far enough to place her hand on his shoulder. "Ves?" A dozen questions were contained in the name, but she gave explicit voice to none of them.
He didn't answer at first, and did nothing at all until his breathing had normalized, and consciousness stopped threatening to leave him. At that point he slid around to be at Estella's side, reaching a hand into the cold mountain water of the river, and splashing it on his face. He didn't really need to answer. His reactions were enough. He was getting worse, and quickly. And there was nothing to be done about it but to wait.
Frustrated, he smacked the surface of the water with the palm of his hand, sending a spray of it out away from them. "Damn it, why?" he said. The words were pretty clearly not directed at her, but at the third party that was always with them. Wiping briefly at his wet face with his sleeve, Ves tipped back until he was seated, leaning slightly into Estella's touch.
"I've been trying to arrange something, since... well, since there's a chance I won't make it out of this. Or a chance I won't be myself at some point." He let that sit for a second, reaching up to push away the hair that had fallen around his face. "I've learned so much about the elves, about our history and what we used to be. But in all that time, I've learned next to nothing about Saraya. About who she was, what she did in her life. The people she loved, the people she fought alongside. I rarely ever asked, but now that I want to know, now that our time feels like it's running out... she won't tell me. Still she keeps it from me."
Estella shut her eyes, swallowing thickly. She had to acknowledge the reality of the possibilities, but that didn't ever make it easy to do. Releasing a long, slow breath, she tried to think about the more immediate conundrum he had instead, shifting her hand so she was combing her fingers through his hair. She'd managed to admit how much she enjoyed the feel of it, though that hadn't exactly been easy to spit out.
"I can understand that, honestly," she said after a while. "Every time we've come in contact with anything that reminds her of those people or events, it's just been... pain." The Fade, the demon-possessed house in the Emerald Graves, Zethlasan's blood magic—Estella wasn't sure there was anything in Saraya's history that wouldn't hurt to remember. "Probably even the good things hurt now, because they're so long gone, never to return." Considering how she'd ended up, it wasn't too difficult to imagine that even the sweetest memories were tinged with bitterness now. Maybe more than tinged; fermented in it.
"But even if it's painful," Ves said, turning in his seat to face her better, "she's the only one who remembers now. Isn't that how the good things can stay alive, even just a little? If I die, if she dies, and I can't figure any of this out first, it's like who she was is just... it never existed. She's helped do great things now, but there was a time where she was a full person, she was vibrant and full of life, and she had hopes and dreams..."
He winced. It wasn't at all clear if it was from pain in his head or just a feeling he received from Saraya. "Will you say something to her? I don't know how to convince her that her life is worth remembering, that she should be more than just a ghost lingering here for a while longer."
"I—" Estella paused, dropping her hand back to her lap and pursing her lips. She really had no idea how she was supposed to convince Saraya of anything Vesryn couldn't. Especially something so personal. Shifting in her seat, she pulled her legs up near her chest and wrapped her arms around them, propping her chin on her knees and trying to find the words. Because of course what he said was true, but it was clear enough that none of the more straightforward ways of saying that had worked. No doubt Ves had tried them all.
"I guess I..." she trailed off, turning her head so that she could make eye contact with Ves. She knew Saraya saw out of his eyes, so to speak, so it was really all she could do, as far as addressing her directly. "I don't know what happened to cause you so much pain. Maybe it's worse than anything I can ever imagine. I'm not sure if it was something that was done to you, or something you did, or maybe both, but... nobody deserves to be forgotten. Not you, and not the people you knew and loved. And right now, Saraya, you're our only link to any of it. The only one who can make sure that the people you remember are the people we'll remember." She hesitated, and pulled in a breath.
"I know what it's like to feel as though you don't deserve recognition or praise, or for anyone to care about you or remember you. You... you saw that, when you and I were in my head, with the demon. You know how awful I felt, how... how unworthy. And you helped me anyway. For as terrible and—and not worth the effort as I thought I was, you thought differently. We'd like—we'd like the chance to do the same, for you. Because you matter to us. Both of us." Estella couldn't feel her presence or be nudged by her instincts, but she did care. Not just for what Saraya had done for someone she cherished, though that was of course part of it.
Ves waited for a while after she'd finished, eyes falling low, no doubt trying to parse through Saraya's feelings, her reaction. Eventually, a tear slipped down his cheek, quite possibly not his own in origin. He wiped at it, taking a shaky breath.
"I think her mind's just made up," he said, an immense sadness to his words. "I'm not sure anyone has the power to change it." He scooted across the ground to be at her side, draping an arm around her shoulders. He watched the river flow by them, listened to the sound of it, and the birds, and the insects, and the horses behind them. He turned his head enough to kiss her hair.
"Thank you for trying. You said it better than I ever could."