#( asharen is just: I am filled with conflict )

[mercysought]

His face looked wrong. The way that Hakkon wore Ameridan made her feel uncomfortable, and she guessed that was part of the reason why he did it. It was Ameridan's voice, his face, yes. But that mean spirited quirk of the lips was enough to put her off the entire situation.

The concept of possession was not one that she was unfamiliar with. She had read some notes about some cases of possession that worked more like a parasite and host instead of a full, immediate take over. There was Cole, of course, whose existence wasn't so much possession of a living host but of remembering a living host too closely in hopes they could keep living through them. Morrigan herself was in a specific situation that was harder to place, not quite this either but being able to pull from knowledge and feelings that were not truly her own.

If Asharen truly wanted to stretch, she supposed her own situation with the Well of Sorrows could be seen akin to those two situations, however, she would truly need to be stretching to reach such a conclusion.

She is still watching him in silence as he apologises, her brow quirking lightly.

   "You are trying to flatter me." she hums, giving him a clipped smile, holding her brass hand over her flesh one, feeling the coldness of the metal against it. Which was saying something however, he would not be the first God trying to court her ego and she had had enough to those, elvhen, Avvari or otherwise for a lifetime "I am wiser than to fight a dragon one on one, or head-on, for that matter."

She pauses, her brows knitting together for a moment as she studies his face. When she had received the letter from Rook she had feared the worst and now? The fact of more, and more loss was going to continue being a constant in Asharen's life, she knew this, but it didn't mean she wished to see it come to fruition any swifter than necessary. That she saw him walking, that she knew he was in there? And yet to talk to Hakkon, the same dragon that they had slain so many years ago, how long until the tables turned and he would pull the rug from under them? Ameridan and her both.

   "How?..." she starts but her words disappear as she attempts to place her thoughts into line. She takes a good look at him again, lips strained into a line. She could only wonder, for now, given what she knew of Ameridan how much of a difficult thing this had been. If it had been a choice at all "How does it work? Between you and Ameridan."

@mercysought petitioned a very benevolent and humble god

"I thought our meeting overdue, Asharen Frost-thaw."

Cold and callous Hakkon watches the Fade-scarred lady who healed the sky, heart hammering with emotions not his own. Ameridan's spirit is strong even when he slips into the background of their being, listening but not leading; what he feels Hakkon feels, a faraway fire in the depths of them. The heart that isn't his beats with the fear that she will be unforgiving. The hands wants to close around the prayer that she will understand. The head wants to bow while it waits for judgement. The mouth wants to say, again: I am sorry I had to do this. I am sorry you must see me this way.

Yet Ameridan remains silent, as promised, down in the depths of them. Asharen must know who it is she is working with now --- both of them. It is Hakkon who watches the woman who once killed him through pale, piercing eyes, and Hakkon who lifts the head instead of bowing it, mouth set in an insolent quirk.

"I must, at least, apologize." (He feels Ameridan stir in surprise at this, but if he hopes Hakkon would beg forgiveness for his actions, he will be disappointed.) "In my dragon's-pride, ages bound, I did not consider you a worthy foe. I should have challenged you to duel."

A duel? You were a dragon, Ameridan says in his mind. Do not use my mouth to speak nonsense.