lonelyvigil
with her hands at her sides, her fingers catch at the fabric of her dress. curtsy, her instincts command. bow your head, she is arlessa. she is above. do not look her in the eye.
but she is a woman of power in her own right now, a fact of which she must keep reminding herself. and this is not amaranthine; this is skyhold. this is her place.
she meets her eyes.
“warden-commander. this is unexpected.”









