As she remembers him, a shadow of him passes between them, Ness and spirit. Indistinct around the edges, more memory than person. His movement only shifts once and briefly, like a flicker of the light, into the furious predatory stalk of someone planning to cut down the fools who bound and corrupted an old friend.
The shape of him lowers onto one knee beside the fire and puts a hand to the elf's shoulder. You will have to explain your logic to me, my friend, he says, and it's as exhausted and skeptical as it is warm and kind, but certainly an improvement to the dead man before him, whose casual defiance begins to melt away. ]
That is better,
[ the spirit says, half-sigh, drifting closer to that imagined memory with a kind of hunger. As she remembers him. As they remember him. The memory of him looks up toward her and more warmth bleeds in. ]
[ it's almost crueler, she realizes, she shouldn't have asked—to get what she wants and to know that she has to be the one to choose to relinquish it.
not yet, though. ]
I don't understand, [ she steps forward, toward the shadow and the spirit. neither react to her getting closer, and she crouches down to look at both of them more closely. ] He wouldn't do this. He couldn't.
[ couldn't he?
you—tortured and killed my friend!
the shadow in front of her flickers, unable to make up its mind. somewhere behind them, a fire crackles to life, and the smell of smoke and burning flesh permeates the scene. ashes fall on her shoulders, only to dissolve in fade-green indecision.
it's such an annoying way to learn this lesson. couldn't it be cassandra instead? dorian? someone else she'd respected, put on a pedestal, anyone but— ]
Solas, [ ennaris whispers, small and mournful, ] what did you do, vhenan? Who are you?
[ the shadow reaches for the spirit's face—his hands burn with magic, and are open-palmed in peace, and hold a dagger, all at once. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
really testing that theory sorry
As she remembers him, a shadow of him passes between them, Ness and spirit. Indistinct around the edges, more memory than person. His movement only shifts once and briefly, like a flicker of the light, into the furious predatory stalk of someone planning to cut down the fools who bound and corrupted an old friend.
The shape of him lowers onto one knee beside the fire and puts a hand to the elf's shoulder. You will have to explain your logic to me, my friend, he says, and it's as exhausted and skeptical as it is warm and kind, but certainly an improvement to the dead man before him, whose casual defiance begins to melt away. ]
That is better,
[ the spirit says, half-sigh, drifting closer to that imagined memory with a kind of hunger. As she remembers him. As they remember him. The memory of him looks up toward her and more warmth bleeds in. ]
Maybe we can stay here.
no subject
not yet, though. ]
I don't understand, [ she steps forward, toward the shadow and the spirit. neither react to her getting closer, and she crouches down to look at both of them more closely. ] He wouldn't do this. He couldn't.
[ couldn't he?
you—tortured and killed my friend!
the shadow in front of her flickers, unable to make up its mind. somewhere behind them, a fire crackles to life, and the smell of smoke and burning flesh permeates the scene. ashes fall on her shoulders, only to dissolve in fade-green indecision.
it's such an annoying way to learn this lesson. couldn't it be cassandra instead? dorian? someone else she'd respected, put on a pedestal, anyone but— ]
Solas, [ ennaris whispers, small and mournful, ] what did you do, vhenan? Who are you?
[ the shadow reaches for the spirit's face—his hands burn with magic, and are open-palmed in peace, and hold a dagger, all at once. ]