wip we get to it when we get to it
As always I'm very late to the party, but I was tagged by the wonderful @luzial, @alittlelevity and @crimsonphantasmagoria (and consider this a tag right back if you're so inclined)
Thought I'd post something from WEWH even though I wrote most of this ages ago because I was yapping about it the other day and needed to make an executive decision on posting something instead of just overthinking everything.
“I’m not surprised to find you out here,” came Solas' voice behind her and she glanced back to watch as he approached. “Do you wish to be alone?”
She managed the edge of a smile. “I wouldn’t mind some company. Unless you’d rather rush back to the ballroom.”
“I think I can sacrifice the pleasure of the Orlesian ball.” He moved beside her to lean against the railing, his arm pressed against hers. “Thoughts?”
Nymera sighed heavily. “Did I do the right thing?” she asked quietly. Even without the risk of being overheard by someone lurking in the bushes, she doubted she could have mustered the spirit for any higher volume. “Gaspard was a vile, warmongering, would-be conqueror… but Celene burned thousands of elves just to save her own image."
Allowing herself to think about that again sent a burning rage roiling through her veins, and she felt her entire posture change with it. Her fingers flexed for a moment, starting to reach for a dagger that wasn't there, before she clenched her fist instead.
"But there's no world in which Gaspard wouldn't have done the same if he'd had the chance. And there’s no way our people — or any people — would have been better off under him, even with Briala pulling his strings. Right? We both know a dog resentful of its leash would do anything to slip from it. The moment he felt he could get away with it, I just know he would have her removed, one way or another. And where would that leave our people? Even more subjugated under a man who would rather invade other nations in the name of abstract glory than look after his own. But even knowing that… so much of me feels like I’ve betrayed all those she killed." The lump in her throat was burning too now. "Why. Why did this have to be my decision? I…”
Solas shifted, his hand sliding gently across her shoulder blades and thumb tracing a soothing line over her skin. She looked up to an expression that said he understood completely.
“Sometimes there are no good choices. There are just choices. And someone must make them. The Orlesian Empire, like every empire before it, is built on the bones of a million unnamed injustices and a million righteous justifications. But you cannot save people from themselves. Nor did you invent war.”
“Sometimes sacrifices must be made. Nothing is ever won without something else being lost… even if that something is inside you. Remember the lesson, but do not dwell on it.”
“But if I don’t dwell on it, then who will?”
Tagging @hallahart @widowling @modestharellan @sunlight-shunlight @sandetigerrr @ikarons
dividers by @/strangergraphics
