Pelle sucked in a breath. Talon’s obstinance hurt more than he knew. Things had changed since he woke up to a Skyhold with no Talon groaning when Pelle rose from a bed they often shared and pulled the drapes to let the sunlight in. No one sneaking him off quiet corners or tight corridors to release a tension he never seemed to put down, to let him finally for just a few moments stop holding his breath.
He had changed since those days. They had changed. Chaotic as it was, things were simpler back then. They were days he longed to go back to them, to fall asleep and wake up beside Talon in that grotto he’d shown him that evening when Pelle regaled him about the romance of stories written in the stars.
Not only did he miss Talon, but he missed the person he had been the last time they’d met. He missed the him who clung to blind faith that there was good in every person, the version of him that truly believed that if he fought for it hard enough, he could change peoples minds, could change things for the better, that not all stories had to end in tragedy.
Unfortunately, that person learned that hate was a powerful and ruthless disease to which there seemed no cure. With Corypheus gone and the world as it was no longer under threat of total destruction, it did not take long for the enemies that waited so patiently, biding their time for the day when he was not an imperative accessory, to make their move.
Talon may have been absent, but he did not live under a rock. Pelle was sure he’d all but heard the well scripted narrative that had painted him as some sort of freedom fighter. They had twisted his words, his ideals, and his actions to drive a narrative that he intended to incite a rebellion. He had been accused of radicalizing elven servants, slaves, apostates, city elves, and the dalish alike to retaliate against human kind and seize control.
The rumors were outlandish if you asked him. He had manipulated empress Celene to place Briala in a position of power so that she might murder her and usurp the throne. Left unchecked, he might gods forbid inspire slaves and the unprivileged of minrathous to slay their masters and then turn onto the streets to enact even more violence in the name of revenge. And that was just the start of it, that didn’t even include the rumors spread around about his leadership, cruelty, snd debaucherous personal life.
“I miss a lot of things, and a lot of people.” Was how he responded. If Talon wanted to be stubborn then he could be just as obtuse. “Time is…unkind, and I’m afraid I now loathe to waste it.”
He could say a lot of things to Talon. He could tell him he was expiring and that it would be nice if he could just hear him say just once that what they had meant something. Ask if he would regret never admitting his feelings if he had any at all should he suddenly pass away. But he would not manipulate him to tell him what he wanted to hear.
He was too tired for games, and if Talon had simply come to make light of his disappearance and expect that things could just go back to how they were, he was sorely mistaken.