[He doesn't resist when Fenris comes at him; he's almost a rag doll for all that he fights back. When the blows don't come, he's almost disappointed. It would be something, anything, better than this.
He stays where he is, watching Fenris slip to the floor without any movement to help or hinder. This was his doing, too. It might have felt like a victory, once, when Fenris was nothing more than a representation of an abstract enemy. But there aren't any victories in all this, he's found. It's just suffering, pointless for everyone. If it's eventually recorded by historians as a skipped time period between oppression and freedom, every bit of pointless suffering will have been worth it. But here, in the moment, he just feels vaguely nauseous.]
Don't ask me questions like that. [He says it even though Fenris seems to already have his answer.] I know the Circle better than you do.
[He sinks into a crouch, hovering over Fenris with the same air of detachment, until he reaches out to trace the top edge of the collar with two fingers. He doesn't ask permission, but also doesn't care if he doesn't have it.
The line of his mouth turns down, the closest thing to an expression he's made since the door locked behind him. He used to think about this, back when he had the luxury of putting his life into perspective. Maybe the templars put him in a cell alone for an entire year, but at least the Qunari didn't have him on a chain like a dog.
Even he gave the templars too much credit sometimes, it seems.]
no subject
He stays where he is, watching Fenris slip to the floor without any movement to help or hinder. This was his doing, too. It might have felt like a victory, once, when Fenris was nothing more than a representation of an abstract enemy. But there aren't any victories in all this, he's found. It's just suffering, pointless for everyone. If it's eventually recorded by historians as a skipped time period between oppression and freedom, every bit of pointless suffering will have been worth it. But here, in the moment, he just feels vaguely nauseous.]
Don't ask me questions like that. [He says it even though Fenris seems to already have his answer.] I know the Circle better than you do.
[He sinks into a crouch, hovering over Fenris with the same air of detachment, until he reaches out to trace the top edge of the collar with two fingers. He doesn't ask permission, but also doesn't care if he doesn't have it.
The line of his mouth turns down, the closest thing to an expression he's made since the door locked behind him. He used to think about this, back when he had the luxury of putting his life into perspective. Maybe the templars put him in a cell alone for an entire year, but at least the Qunari didn't have him on a chain like a dog.
Even he gave the templars too much credit sometimes, it seems.]
Does it hurt?