[ The worst of it is, Fenris does blame the templars now. He does see. The abuses perpetrated on him in Tevinter feel dreams away, made shamefully appealing by thoughts of a warm bed and a full belly and light and space and people, so that the indignities and horrors—the boy, drained of blood— Fenris thinks he hears the screams of children here, in this place, too. Sometimes. Sometimes he makes himself listen just because it's preferable to the silence. ]
If you're here, what's out there is not for you.
[ It comes out rougher than intended. The sick heat crawling over his wounds begins to dissipate, followed by an easing of pain, then only an itch. A small amount of light returns to Fenris's eyes, the faint upturn of his mouth unreadable. A little less than comforted, a little less than bitter, a little less than sad.
He swallows around a parched throat. ]
Thank you.
[ It's so freely given, all the pride beaten out of him.
A few seconds pass. His voice suddenly feels stronger, eager, heart seized by a foreign rush of inspiration. ]
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branchandroot
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Date: 2014-12-12 03:56 am (UTC)If you're here, what's out there is not for you.
[ It comes out rougher than intended. The sick heat crawling over his wounds begins to dissipate, followed by an easing of pain, then only an itch. A small amount of light returns to Fenris's eyes, the faint upturn of his mouth unreadable. A little less than comforted, a little less than bitter, a little less than sad.
He swallows around a parched throat. ]
Thank you.
[ It's so freely given, all the pride beaten out of him.
A few seconds pass. His voice suddenly feels stronger, eager, heart seized by a foreign rush of inspiration. ]
You could kill me.