#amelia and thom get talking and inq is just like KIDS CAN WE LIGHTEN UP A LITTLE BACK THERE

[sanctamater]

"that's all that matters in the end."

deathless prompts. no longer accepting. @thomasrainier

there is a shared silence between them - one that speaks of understanding, but not comfort. never comfort. war was not for comfort; nor was yet another end of the world, another thread in a never finished tapestry - it was for surviving. and they have both survived so many things, she thinks - too many; and while many would claim that the maker loved to test his faithful, the good lady cannot help but wish he would stop and allow them some rest. she has not stopped running since the blight - no, she will never stop running; and when the sainted lady looks at ser blackwall; really and truly looks, she sees that same motion, mirrored. repeated. they used to say that the good lady could weigh the entirety of another's soul with one look; used to say andraste herself had blessed her with such divine judgment. they used to say a lot of things - but she is no more divine than any other soul upon thedas; and thanks the maker for that miracle, small as it is. but she does not need divine omnipotence to see that blackwall, for all his strength and steadfastness, is running. and if a grey warden is running, then should she run too? no. blackwall may be running, yes - but here, he stands his ground - our lady will too.  " that is a... sobering truth. " her cheeks are tinged pink; the cold mountain winds biting at her skin and everything seems infinite from this height; safe within strong, tall walls and she shuts her eyes; takes a deep breath. she had never intended to return to fereldan - fate had decreed otherwise. much like her faith, it burns her still. " it all comes back to duty. " how she folds in upon herself; makes herself smaller, softer; quieter - things she'd swore she'd never do again, but repeats, unending. and looking at him now - the good lady cannot help but think upon how different they are; how ridiculous she must seem. but she understands - she does; or at least, she thinks she does.  blackwall's idea of duty may be as different from hers as she is sure his idea of sacrifice is - but duty is still duty at the end of the day, and a death is always a death; be it for the grand and unknowable future, or in the service of preserving the world as all knew it; and it is something, she thinks, they can both understand - something that binds deeper than blood. duty, sacrifice. how it has walked with them more than their own shadow has - bearing different forms and names and weights, but present all the same. " how does it feel, then? " she's speaking with that saint's voice, soft and low; something she'd sworn she'd left behind as surely as she had buried herself on that riverside. " is it crushing, knowing what you must do? what will be done? " her own seems so small compared to the survival of all life upon the world, and all who swear to uphold and protect it - as always, she thinks of elizabeth. " some days i feel like i am drowning in it. but it is all i know. " it is all i will ever know. ser blackwall, she suspects, is the same.  " it is all i know. " repeated, as though it would change anything. it is all i know. and though she has such sorrow in her eyes, our lady knows it is better, at least, for her. the maker had tasked her with this - she would not stop until the spirit left her, until her body gave up. elizabeth first, thedas second. that was how it was - how it always would be; and for a moment, her expression is as serene as the carvings of andraste on her pyre. " i would, you know. " a pause - she shuts her eyes. " if it meant my duty was fulfilled, i would die for it - to ensure her protection. would you not do the same for your own? " a pause, then - and she takes the time to look upon ser blackwall; meets his eyes unflinchingly. he cares not for nobility - she can respect that; and to take offense is beneath her. instead, she offers truth. " perhaps it would be better to die for duty. there is nothing left for us afterwards. "