Vhenan Him Dor'felas

"And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones. 'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs. Lyrics from Youth by Daughter

[khalno-blog]

More Than Just a Sweet Tooth [Keita & Sten]

[khalno-blog]

Sten gripped her ankle, feeling it slide a little out of his grip as she twisted and tightened his hand on it. It was a poor grab, but the iron-tight strength of his grip kept her in his grasp. As she continued to twist, Sten felt her ankle pop in his hand. Her face remained concentrated on getting away rather than the pain her ankle had to have been in. Sten gave her points for that. Then her free foot came up out of nowhere, kicking hard at his stomach.

Sten knew right then that she did, in fact, pack a punch. Or, rather, a kick. An aptly-placed kick. Idiots who were untrained tended to aim at the chest, where there was hard muscle and the even harder bones of the ribcage. Keita was not one of those idiots. He felt his breath leave him as he fell backwards. Somehow, miraculously, he kept ahold of her ankle, causing her to be pulled down with him. He barely felt her body fall on top of his, her tiny form causing less wind to be knocked out than her kick had. His body made for a poor cushion to fall upon, his body a lot more hard with muscles than his suit could have revealed to her.

He still had her ankle in hand when he felt her go limp. It was the wrong thing to do. Sten had been in far, far too many fights and battles to fall for such a thing anymore. If she were indeed incapacitated enough for her to lose all strength, he would deal with that after he had her pinned. So instead of her intended shock factor, he acted swiftly and strategically. He rolled over, causing her to fall off of him. He pulled the foot still in his grasp toward him as he got to his knees, put a hand at her waist and flipped her over, so that she was on her stomach, and finally let go of her ankle.

Two quick shuffles of his knees, left and then right, and he was sitting on her butt. He made a grab for both her wrists and after a small struggle he pulled her hands behind her, pressing them in to the small of her back. It wasn’t a proper hold, but he hoped it would do. She was too small for him to effectively lock her legs with his or do most of the holds he knew.

“Do you yield?” he growled at her.

[thriveintheashes]

Dread Wolf nip your ass Keita swore inwardly as her feint failed-- this was very much not what she wanted. Landing on him hadn't hurt, barely anything actually hurt, though her ankle throbbed as warning it wouldn't support her weight much at all. Him on top of her, however, was going to be rather difficult to get out of. 

She snorted, wiggling around just enough to try and find any possible weak points in his hold. "I presume that was a rather terrible joke," she bucked under him and grimanced to herself. It was not a very good hold, nor particularly proper, but firm nonetheless. She was probably smaller than he was used to, but he was heavy. Which was an annoying problem.  

If he was not so damnably tall himself, she might've been able to hook her legs around his neck and unsettle his balance on her, if nothing else. Though with her ankle as it was, that sort of flexibility and strength seemed unlikely to be successful. Much as the realization grated, Keita was not certain there was anything she could really do. She'd underestimated his intelligence, put too much stock into the kick and feint, and was now left with little else to do but admit it

"Joke or not, however, my remaining options will likely only result in serious injury to one or both of us, humiliation in trying to get ou from under you, and most certainly both of us being late to what I presume to be our respective places of employment." Keita sighed and ceased her movement, letting her head drop. She would not strain her neck to make the attempt to look at him as she conceded-- it would just end up being ridiculous. "You have won this bout, qunari. I underestimated the depth of your skill."

[bisexualtheirins]

game typography challenge

DAY THREE:Centre or justify the type.

[annehathaway]

[heartwrencher]

☽ Living Cargo :: [ Keita ]

[heartwrencher]

"Yes. And were were in a story, I imagine it would be unrealistically without consequence," Fenris replied drily as he silently strode through the dark, gently pitching ship’s corridor, ears pricked for any sound of movement, though he heard none.

There was an undeniable stench of magic in the air that made the lyrium in his skin tingle. “There’s another mage down here,” he whispered before beginning to speak more loudly and casually, “It seems as though all hands may have been on deck. I certainly don’t hear anything.”

He glanced at her, pushing open a door whch revealed only a bucket which smelled as though someone had used it as a toilet. He shut that door and moved forward to try the next one, though his energy was far more on what he was hearing than what he was seeing, certain that the lurking mage would—if their acting was good enough—attempt to catch them unawares.

And if he wasn’t careful, their enemy would succeed.

[thriveintheashes]

Keita's responding grin was a bright flash as they walked. She was impressed-- he moved as she did, a hunter. Though she highly doubted they went after the same sort of prey. Darkspawn were not a normal quarry, their infection far too dangerous for any casual explorer or fighter. 

Whoever Fenris was, he was certainly intriguing. Especially for a flat-ear. 

She raised an eyebrow at the comments from Fenris, catching the drift. How he had managed to sense someone before she did was something she'd have to ask at a later time, though it irked some long suppressed pride at always being the first to sense things in her clan. "I agree. All the more luck for us, I suppose."

She readjusted the knuckles on her hand and tried to think of how to make herself useful. Fenris had to open the doors, to check for the mage, but surely there was something she could do. Like try and cover the noise and make it seem casual. Casual talking. Right, she could do that.

"So, if this were a story, do you think we would be the protagonists? Or is one of us the protagonist and the other a sidekick? Are we in a tragedy or in a drama or in a comedy?" She asked the questions casually, failing to think of a better topic except the one they had started with. Anything of actual substance would be ill advised with another nearby. One never knew what could be used against them, should the unlucky occur and the mage escape them.

[elissaromildecousland-deactivat]

Adventures In Ferelden [Elissa and Keita]

[elissaromildecousland]

"Sneaking out is likely our best option." Elissa sighed, glancing around the station and considering their options. "I’m in no mood to give any sort of statement about where I’ve been or how I managed to survive or… why I broke into my familial home covered in spider innards and darkspawn blood."

Not that it mattered. They’d led the pair of them into the station in cuffs regardless of Elissa’s instance that she was actually the heir to the Cousland legacy, and that footage was now all over the internet, up on special alert feeds, and ready to print in early editions of newspapers all over Ferelden —and likely beyond.

Gamlen would likely see this before she could warn him, the thought of which made her rub at her temples in frustration because although it would offer the relief of knowing she was alive it would also illustrate clearly how close she had come to not. And that was a discussion she was not looking forward to having. 

"I remember coming here once with my brother when I was sixteen to be given an illustration of what happens if one doesn’t stick on the straight and narrow path. Eleanor was particularly fond of the ‘scare the shite out of you’ school of parenting." She began to walk as she spoke, leading Keita casually back through the winding halls deeper into the station. "Unless things have changed there’s a room back here where they store old files. The lock is remarkably easy to pick for a place holding such sensitive information." 

The look of slight concern on her face shifted over into a smile when she saw that the knob was exactly the same even after all the years between now and when she’d last seen it. “This won’t take long.” She chuckled, glancing around and then kneeling down to pick it open. “There’s a window inside that leads out through the back parking lot, and then the only thing standing between us and the forest beyond is a fence. It’s high and lined with razor wire but I’ve got a shirt in my pack I’m willing to sacrifice to get us over it.” 

[thriveintheashes]

"Sneaking out sounds far more fun than the talking, I agree. And I see no reason for others to be interested in your state of dress." Keita made a face at the thought. A testament to the Dalish upbringing, no doubt, that Keita saw no reason to concern herself with how others dressed most of the time. Though in retrospect, it did explain some of the looks of her neighbors when she came back from a hunting trip.

Keita followed Elissa's memory with interest, "Eleanor?" The memory of the graveyard flashed briefly in her mind, placing the name better, "She was your mamae, your mother, correct?" Elissa did not seem to speak of her fondly, but it was family. Keita envied her, just for a moment. Better to have something, no matter how flawed, than nothing at all. 

"Razor wire," Keita snorted, "No imagination at all. I have spare gloves for such a task." She gave a half smile, "Shemlen have a habit of putting up fences in Dalish territory, thinking to keep us out or away from our hunting grounds... Fences are nothing new to me, lethallan. And luckily, they didn't manage to remove those from me in this infernal place. I presume we can steal them back or something soon?" 

As Elissa got the door open, the two slipped inside, Keita immediately finding the window and prying it open as Elissa put the lockpick supplies away again. Keita went outside first, glancing around for possible press or anyone who would have tried to stop her. "We are clear." 

The fence and climbing it was rather simple, even as it clinked with their movements. Keita snorted softly, still missing the familiar weight of her weapons to actually make her feel less exposed as she climbed. "This is not how I saw this trip going. I do not even know where we will be going next." She glanced over at Elissa, "Any suggestions?"

[thriveintheashes]

Baby Do You Wanna Sneak Out With Me? || Fergus & Keita

[dutyfamilycountry]

At the end of her long speech, he had learned one thing about this woman; she was foolhardy. But, she had struck a nerve with things she did not know about him, assuming that he was like every other human was a poor thing to do. He breathed a few deep breathes in through his mouth and out through his nose attempting to calm the raging fire that was in his blood. The anger and hatred that stemmed from the thoughts of family and home were great, and if he ever discovered who or what had caused the slaughter of Highever, he would not hold back his rage for them; not one ounce.

“You speak of things that I should try, but you know nothing of who or what I am in turn making a fool of yourself in the process.” He doubted that would get through to her, but spurning her emotions seemed to be the way to communicate with her not niceties. “Perhaps you should try my shoes on for size. I have lost my entire family, there is not a living soul left. My heritage is lost to me, as a warden I cannot pick up and carry it forwards. I’ve lost my wife and my child and still managed to keep my mind, no small feat let me tell you.” His tone was practically scathing.

“There has been no justice for my family, and after this long, it is doubtful that anything new will ever be discovered to bring light to the tragedy.” He paused briefly as the bear trundled through the bushes. “There is much you have to learn, young warden. I have had a long time spent in quiet meditation to control the agony and anger that dwells within me, but you just lash out at everyone that is not like you. I’m certain that if I did have pointed ears, you’d still be just as careless with your words for I was not one that you lost.”

He swallowed hard and his eyes fell to the bear that had lumbered in. There was a sadness in the familiars eyes and an understanding that he could see plainly. They shared a connection and he had nothing to do with her world nor should she ever had had anything to do with his. “It does seem that words will get me nowhere, but I’ve come out this far with you. I shan’t be turning back now, not without proof that you can handle yourself should the darkspawn come to claim you and put you out of your misery.”

His eyes turned to steel and his tongue harsh as a whip. “Combat it is. Fight me and I shall leave should you prove strong enough.” He stood in a leisurely stance despite the tone and timbre of his voice. He had years of combat experience on his side, and he held a great deal of knowledge about the fighting styles of the Dalish hunters from his father’s teachings and books. It was one of the things he missed dearly about being in Highever; the book collection was quite extensive. Even still, he knew that calling her to fight was only giving her what she wanted, a chance to be alone and left that way. In turn, it might gain him back some footing towards having at least a bit of respect from her if nothing else.

[thriveintheashes]

Keita raised an eyebrow at his challenge, letting a bark of laughter escape her. Him? Challenge her? Cute. "I am Dalish, shemlen, and you wish to challenge me to combat, to test my strength?" She laughed again, her stance easy and languid, pretending at casualty-- she turned her back on him, hand reaching as though to run her fingers through Aneth's fur before whipping around, throwing the knife so it thudded into the tree closest to Fergus. "You are not exactly wise, are you? Nonetheless, I accept." 

Her grin became more cruel as she tilted her head condescendingly, "Judge me as you will, we know nothing of each other. We are shaped to be what we are." She had always been quick to quip, to tease, but she had grown sharp edged in the last few months... Ever since Tamlen, something inside her was as jagged as the shards of mirror as it broke beneath her assault.

What did it matter though? The words of a dead elf, who truly cared? This shemlen for now, but he'd forget soon enough... For now, however, he was entertaining to rile up. And perhaps the combat would clear the agitation from her. 

"Atisha, falon," Keita murmured to the bear, quelling the low growl that had started. She spoke in elvish, a small smile still playing on her lips. "It is a fight of dominance, my friend, please do not intercede." Aneth gave a low growl but backed off, allowing the two space. "Any rules, before we begin? I presume there will be no serious injury, which is fine." As she spoke, she removed the bow and quiver from her back, removing the temptation to use them. "Anything else?" 

She pulled out another knife, spinning them in her hands before assuming a ready stance. Channeling pain into combat or aggression was a normal response-- You show me yours shemlen and I'll show you mine. 

[fashionably-geeky]

"What a wonder it is to see such stalwart bravado in one such as yourself. It is heartwarming, truly, to see that there are yet humans willing to risk a slow and torturous death in pursuit of our most sacred treasures."

[cgal120-deactivated20230112]

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[thriveintheashes]

Sloth, Gluttony

Sloth: a headcanon about something your character hates to do or simply hates in general

Shopping. The whole shopping thing is not something Keita’s generally a fan of. Trying things on, being around people, talking to shop attendants, all of the shopping experience is something Keita avoids. 

Gluttony: a headcanon about food or obsessions

Keita adores tea, especially with honey. It’s something worth braving grocery stores to go get tins and tins of it. There’s lots of varieties she’ll go for— changes it up depending on the week. 

[heartwrencher]

"I do usually wear shirts, in fact.  They have to cover up my tattoos with makeup for most shoots, and to do so on more than my face, neck and arms is extensive.  It has been done before, but it is unusual.  And, yes…most clothing from the shoots is tailored to me, I suppose.  Perhaps you ought to come along to one yourself?  You could pick something out in your size."

[thriveintheashes]

"Well so long as no one attacks me with a make-up brush of some kind, it would be interesting to visit." She was admittedly slightly taken aback by the idea of covering up one's tattoos in that fact, but for a job... Perhaps that, if anything, she could understand. "I would enjoy that, I think. If you really do not mind."

[thriveintheashes]

Sloth, Gluttony

Sloth: a headcanon about something your character hates to do or simply hates in general

Shopping. The whole shopping thing is not something Keita’s generally a fan of. Trying things on, being around people, talking to shop attendants, all of the shopping experience is something Keita avoids. 

Gluttony: a headcanon about food or obsessions

Keita adores tea, especially with honey. It’s something worth braving grocery stores to go get tins and tins of it. There’s lots of varieties she’ll go for— changes it up depending on the week. 

[heartwrencher]

"That is the upside of modeling, I suppose.  Sometimes they allow me to keep the clothing, which reduces my need to shop.  Then again, much of what I’m given is absolutely useless.  Feel free to take some of it off my hands some time."

[thriveintheashes]

Keita smirked, "I like the idea. Though I suspect several are tailored to you in specific, which means some of the shirts may fit in interesting ways. Or do they just not have you wear a shirt, most of the time? Admittedly, I am a little curious-- I know next to nothing about your job and it intrigues me." 

[musicbloge]

Visit Original Link

[elissaromildecousland-deactivat]

Adventures In Ferelden [Elissa and Keita]

[elissaromildecousland]

Elissa chuckled softly when Keita mentioned having been accused of running. “That is something with which I am also familiar. I ran from this life even when my family yet lived and all of this was nothing more than someone else’s unrealized nightmare. Perhaps that is why I feel so much responsibility for what happened to them.”

"I wasn’t even… I wasn’t here when it happened. I was in Orlais running from my legacy, my marriage, my mother.” She snorted, glaring at Eleanor’s marker. “I came back to identify the bodies. I saw to their pyres, placed their markers, took my father’s ashes to the Grove. Then I tried to see to myself.”

There was a short burst of bitter laughter as Elissa unbuttoned the leather bracers around her wrists and revealed the heavy scarring that lay beneath them. “When I failed at that, I ran. Just got out of the hospital bed and left. Highever. Ferelden. Life.”

Long fingers reached out to wrap around the piece of ironwood Keita offered to her, her lips turning up into a smile that began to warm her eyes. “I had a thing like this once.  A bit of the croìfola tree. It might be inside the castle somewhere still, for all I kno—”

"Put your hands up!" 

The command was barked out from behind them, and Elissa cringed at her stupidity. She’d been far too distracted by the spectres of her past to even consider the idea that her brother had likely hired a small security staff to keep an eye on the property.

"No need for that, serah." Elissa insisted, though she did raise and open her hands then turn slowly toward him. "I have good reason to be here."

The guard looked her over, eyes narrowed and flicking between her and the elven woman at her side. “What’s that? Looting?”

"What could we possibly be looting from empty funerary urns?" 

"How’d you know they’re empty?" The guard’s eyes narrowed even further.

Elissa took in a deep breath, knowing there was now no way to avoid revealing who she was beyond killing an innocent man. “I know because I placed them.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I’m Elissa Cousland.”

Several Hours Later…

Elissa stood inside the front doors of Highever Central Police Starion staring in horror at the massive press core that had gathered outside when word had begun to circulate who the castle guards had found within the Heartwood this time. “I—I can’t go out there.”

[thriveintheashes]

The scarring on Elissa's wrists fascinated Keita, if fascinated was the right word. Heavy scarring, indicating a deep pain at the infliction... Her own hands tightened into fists, remembering the crossed markings there, sympathizing in depth if not in the multitude and severity. Pain seemed to mark growth in both of them it seemed. 

It was, perhaps, a sign of how wrapped up Keita still was in her own pain or in the similarities between herself and a shemlen woman that she didn't hear the others coming. At the sound of the shemlen's voice, Keita tensed, immediately dropping into a more defensive position, her lips curling into a snarl. She looked for weaknesses on instinct, trying to find likely places where she could sink a knife successfully in--

At Elissa's placating words and gestures, however, Keita looked over dubiously. Did she mean to have them-- to have her -- surrender to a team of shemlen? Self important, armed, hostile shemlen that they could easily defeat and escape and-- No. No. Elissa had invited Keita into her territory... her home. Keita would respect her wishes as such. She stood, slowly, raising her hands and reluctantly repressing the instinct to go for her weapon. 

Elissa gave her name and the effect of the guards was striking, though... strange. Keita leaned over, her hands still raised and spoke in a quick undertone to Elissa, "... and what, exactly, does your name have to do with us not being killed, lethallan?" 

Several Hours Later…

They'd stripped them of their weapons. Keita was still incredibly agitated about this. A simple thing, necessary because of the location, nonsense and jabber that Keita tuned out from, instead, concentrating on trying to figure out what blades she'd get away with hiding. She managed to keep a hold of the halla and onyx daggers. It would serve well enough if she needed to run, but for now she was irritated it'd been a necessity. 

So she paced, circling with a tight anxiety and vague fear. The walls were feeling a little too close for her tastes, and the amount of bodies she could sense around them, just beyond the walls, within the building... it was unnerving. But the circling of the room and trying to make sense of some of the information that'd been thrown around in the past few hours about her companion helped, served as a distraction. Shemlen culture was... complex.

She glanced up at Elissa's words, scowling at the mass of people. "I do not blame you. they set my teeth on edge. Too many by far." Slowing to a stop, she gave a more practiced look around the room, "We could try and sneak out, if you like? It could be a worthy challenge." But, considering what Elissa had been saying earlier, perhaps running was a disservice. "...Or I could go out with you? Provide- er, moral support? I make no guarantees not to attack someone who gets too close though. To forewarn you." 

[thriveintheashes]

Sloth, Gluttony

Sloth: a headcanon about something your character hates to do or simply hates in general

Shopping. The whole shopping thing is not something Keita’s generally a fan of. Trying things on, being around people, talking to shop attendants, all of the shopping experience is something Keita avoids. 

Gluttony: a headcanon about food or obsessions

Keita adores tea, especially with honey. It’s something worth braving grocery stores to go get tins and tins of it. There's lots of varieties she'll go for-- changes it up depending on the week. 

[thriveintheashes]

Envy!

Envy: a headcanon about your character’s secret desires and jealousies

Keita wishes she had magic. She wanted to be her father’s daughter, the next Keeper of her clan— she wanted to have his legacy live on, beyond the cautionary tale of yet another elvhen life taken by the shemlen. And magic was meant to be passed on in bloodlines, so it was an undercurrent towards Mahariel’s childhood, waiting to see if she was show the signs of magic. 

And she didn’t.

But Merrill did, Merrill had magic, became the Keeper’s First. And Keita watched her learn to use her magic, knew that she was less important because she didn’t even have the magic of her father’s blood— and her own mother chose to walk away, leaving her with nothing tangible to remember them or honor them. Keita loves Merrill, adores her friend in every way, but does occasionally still get that pang of envy about her friend’s magical abilities. 

[thriveintheashes]

Wrath and sloth :)

Wrath: a headcanon about your character and their anger management

Keita is, generally, very calm and collected while fighting— occasionally joyous, even, as she loves the challenge a fight gives. Every fight is a game to her, a series of moves and challenge between two people and strategies.

She does, however, reach an almost ‘berserk’ point. Different things will set it off— but it will always result in the same almost animalistic rage. She blindly fights, accepts far more injuries and barely even feels pain. Honestly, if she wasn’t a rogue, I’d say she’s a Berserker. It’s something she learned from being a Ranger, I think, and has a lot to do with her ability to communicate with them, to understand them. It’s part of why both a wolf and a bear are willing to acknowledge a squishy elf as a dominant force. 

The easiest way to push her into that rage is threatening her adoptive little clan, or to back her into a corner. 

Sloth: a headcanon about something your character hates to do or simply hates in general

Keita hates when she has to call a plumber or electrician. She’ll buy all of the “how-to” manuals and consult websites and everything else possible beforehand. But feeling like she’s unable to do something, has to rely on someone else drives her nuts. Usually, she’ll end up making the problem waaaay worse and just cement that she’ll have to call someone else in. 

[thriveintheashes]

7 Deadly Sin Headcanons

Lust: a headcanon about your character's romantic and/or sexual life

Greed: a headcanon about something your character hordes or collects

Sloth: a headcanon about something your character hates to do or simply hates in general

Pride: a headcanon about something your character is a bit cocky about

Gluttony: a headcanon about food or obsessions

Wrath: a headcanon about your character and their anger management

Envy: a headcanon about your character's secret desires and jealousies

[thriveintheashes]

Unexpected Cavalry || Nathaniel & Keita (& Anders, featuring Duncan)

[butchers-boy]

"I do." Anders admitted, setting the needle into the archer’s vein and rushing to assemble the drip bag necessary to keep him alive. "The Joining is Nathaniel’s only option. You know this as well as I do. There is no cure for the virus with which he has been infected."

Nathaniel hissed and thrashed against the needle’s invasion, his fever clouded mind struggling to focus on what Keita was saying, zoning in only when Anders managed to start the herbal remedy running into his veins. “Is—is this my only option?” Strained silver eyes sought out and focused in on the amber of his friend’s gaze.

"Keita tells the truth. Without the warden’s remedy, you have no hope of survival, and even with it there is no guarantee. The ‘cure’ can kill you just as certainly as the Taint itself." The healer glanced between the two, resolutely set in his decision to violate the secrecy of the order in favor of his friend making his friend making his decision with all the knowledge they could offer. "Becoming a warden shortens your life, drastically, but it lengthens it beyond today. And make no mistake, Nathaniel. Today is all you have. You must make your decision now, and whatever it is, Keita and I will see you through it."

He glanced over at the Dalish woman, briefly, and then stepped away to retrieve his phone. When he returned, he glanced at his friend, waiting for an answer, and receiving one in a bitter edged rasp of: “make the call.”

"You give yourself far too little credit, Keita. Your freedom is no less valuable than mine." Anders insisted, scrolling through his contacts. "If I cannot talk you into leaving, then we will weather this storm together, whatever it may be."

With a heavy sigh, he made the call, the fingers of his right hand working hard at his temple as Justice flared hot within his mind when the man finally answered. “Commander, would it be possible for you to make your way down to the clinic? I have a request to make of you and time is of the essence.” 

[fereldan-commander]

Duncan had been through his fourth beer at the Broken Blade in the effort to recruit a man he’d found sleeping at the docks earlier that day to the Warden cause when he received the call from Anders.

The appropriate course of action would have been to pass the issue on to Fergus, or at the least, call a formal Warden-Doctor. As it was, he had only his field vial. But it was mixed to regulation standard, and Anders certainly had medical equipment.

To call the Commander would undoubtedly put the man in an awkward situation with regards to dealing with the former-Warden apostate as well.

No. Duncan would do it himself.

Bidding a hasty farewell and leaving the drunk man his card, Duncan limped out of the bar and hailed the nearest cab, not wanting to lose a dying man’s time due to his own pride and stubborn streak.

Cabby paid, Wolfe made haste into the clinic, heading toward the sound of Anders’s voice. “Doctor,” he said lowly as he approached the table.

Only to see none other than Nathaniel Howe sitting there—with Keita, no less.

Rather than ask what happened or make verbal acknowledgment of either just then, he pulled his vial of Joining blood from his jacket, extracted the pieces that scrwed onto the bottle which turned it into a small syringe and handed it to Anders.

[thriveintheashes]

Keita snorted at Anders delusions, but didn't say anything. Anders overestimated her value-- flattering, but otherwise hallashit. She knew her worth, would not overestimate it because of personal connections or misplaced pride. 

The waiting was the worst part. Being able to do nothing but hover, struggle not to see Tamlen, fiddling with the knife until she cut herself on it, only noticing when the blood trickled into her palm. She said nothing, glancing at Anders only to ensure he hadn't noticed before tucking the blade back into its sheath and wiping the blood off on her clothes. Elgar'mi nosed under her hand and she allowed herself to tangle her fingers in his fur as she kept watch. 

It was a distracted watch, but a watch nonetheless. Eyes darting back and forth from Nathaniel to Anders to the door-- everywhere. She was far less skilled at placing the origins of a noise in the city, but she could still hear it. And she had extreme motivation to do so now, even as she repressed the urge to flee. 

She heard footsteps-- familiar ones, different but familiar and damaged-- Duncan walked through the door and she had stiffened already at the noise but almost simultaneously relaxed when it was just him. She'd have heard others, true, but visual confirmation was welcome all the same.

It said something about her tension that she didn't even have a comment of some kind to offer Duncan, instead moving so as not to be in the way, still glancing towards Nathaniel. He handed off the syringe and Keita gave a quiet "Ma serranas, shemlen commander." 

That said, she backed off, resuming her watch over all three now. Trust her to have found three shemlen to feel debt towards, to now choose to protect.