#ameridan:verse:sorrow in my heart

[skyheld]

"perhaps I should have seen it coming" Asharen hums, carefully placing a single cup of tea down in front of Ameridan "I had not realised that you and Abelas ( @weptduty ) had kept much contact after Corypheus defeat."

There is a knowing smile. Perhaps she shouldn't intrude. It certainly brought up far more complications. But Ameridan, of all people, was someone that was used to navigating such complicated matters. He had done some similarly in the past. And, of all people, Asharen was not one to talk about matters of the heart. She smiles to Ameridan, turning her attention to her notebook with a grin "Didn't know if it was a secret. But last time any of my sisters kept something this big from me I made sure she lived to regret it."

She had also been more than half her current age. Anyway.

unprompted | always accepting | @mercysought

He gets the feeling that there's something on Asharen's mind when she invites him for tea. The invitation is nothing unusual, they've often shared a quiet moment over tea when the new Inquisitor has some to spare, but there's something in the way she looks at him when she does it that alerts him. He accepts without second thought. Whatever it is he will not mind talking about it, there's nothing worrying in her expression.

"—it was that obvious, was it?" A faint blush tints his cheeks, but it isn't embarrassment. The warmth sitting in his chest is affection, the thought of returning to Abelas soon, once he has checked up on everyone around Skyhold. "So no point in denying it, even without the threat of ending up like your sister." He holds the cup in both hands, tilts his head down and drinks, hiding half his face. She'll see him smile into it. No matter. "I did not mean to keep it from you anyway. It is no secret. I just... was not sure if there was anything. If I wanted there to be anything." If it would ever feel right.

He thought Abelas would prefer to keep it private, at least until there was something substantial to speak of. It was just an assumption he made that he never really questioned until, during one of their travels to explore the world that was new to both of them, Abelas gave him a kiss as they sat under the shade of a tree in a village they were passing through—just a small, chaste kiss that turned no heads, but an open display of affection regardless, so clearly he didn't mind it.

Ameridan's reaction was... favourable, so there has been many more kisses after that.

"He is like me", he says, voice softening as he returns to the present, to the tea in his hands and Asharen's curiosity. "Not in every way. But he... there is no one else, there will never be anyone else, who understands what it is like to live what we're living. To be in the wrong time, to be... but they do not have what I have. The Inquisition. You, Asharen. Everyone who has been there for me when I have been at my worst. Abelas does not have that. He is not... it does not come as naturally to him. I could not let him go through it alone. I need to be there."

He knows he doesn't need to justify staying in contact with Abelas; Asharen would not disapprove, and if she did it would not matter. But he has not really spoken about Abelas to anyone, and he has never mentioned this to them either.

"That isn't to say I am with them out of some sense of obligation. I..." There's a word that occurs to him, but he hasn't spoken it to Abelas yet and he wants to save it for their ears first, for when it feels right to say it. So instead, looking up at her with a small smile, he says: "...I am very fond of them."

[skyheld]

from @weptduty // he has been ... grumpy, lately. but surely that is no sign of fault. the world is in chaos, more chaos than they had been prepared for. and his best friend is trapped in the fade. and he does not get to spend as much time with ameridan as he would like to.

"i do not like them," they say, succinct. "i know that you and dhavi'fen have formed a positive opinion of rook, but—" they don't want to say something terribly unkind, especially because ameridan has become attached to the young warden. so instead they breathe out, frustrated.

unprompted | always accepting | @weptduty

They are not fighting. This is no argument, just a disagreement to talk through, and Abelas has good reasons to be both distrustful and moody. Ameridan cannot fault him and he isn't concerned. But it comes on top of so much else. The Evanuris—it was difficult enough to come to terms with the truth of them, but to see it and confront it, to fight what he once worshiped, that is a different matter. He never expected that. He never knew it was a possibility. And then to do that with Hakkon in his head, mocking that pain—and to do so much of it away from Abelas as the duties they've taken upon themselves keep them apart...

He wishes he could just for a moment curl up somewhere with them and shut out the world. Hear nothing, feel nothing but the beating of their heart against the palm of his hand. Make his mind a blank sheet for them to whisper nonsense about how he's done no wrong. Believe it, just for that moment. But there is no time for that, and he finds that he cannot even reach for Abelas' hand. They are not fighting, this is no argument, but he is too tired even for a disagreement.

He sits still, hands resting in his laps, close but not close enough, and tries to keep his expression neutral while he speaks. "You would like Casadh if you met them under any other circumstances. It is not ideal, I know—their part in what happened. But they did not now it would happen, they could not know—they thought they were saving the world from disaster, as they had every reason to believe. It is what Solas told Dhavi, what Varric knew."

He regrets the last words immediately. They are true, but putting the blame on Solas isn't going to make Abelas more receptive to Casadh. He thinks for a moment, choosing the next words with more care. "You do not have to like them. You truly do not. Just... trust me when I say that while their goals may not fully align with yours, they will be an important ally against our enemies, and they may hold the key to freeing Solas too. We need them. They need us. An alliance does not need to be built on more than that as long as both parties stay true to it, and they will—Casadh will. They are..."

He looks up, eyes wide and vulnerable as they meet Abelas', voice going soft. "They are so very much like me. They will let this break them if that is what it takes. I cannot let that happen."

[skyheld]

(from @weptduty) it is frustrating, sometimes, to not feel adequately up to the task of refuting ameridan when he insists that it would have been better had the two of them not formed an attachment. that, somehow, abelas' existence would be more peaceful had they not opened their heart to ameridan, had not chosen to love him.

they hold him in their arms, his back against their chest. abelas wishes that they could look him in the eye, but they do not wish to cause him discomfort. and this posture is warm. safe. 

"you have told me that despite the pain of loss, you would not wish to have not loved your telana. your orinna."abelas noses at ameridan's hair, presses a soft kiss to the skin just behind his ear. "can you understand that i feel the same way for you? that i would not wish to have never had the chance to hold you like this, even if our time together is finite?" 

unprompted | always accepting

Ameridan tries not to voice his doubts too often. Not in such an obvious way. He wants Abelas to know they can leave, he needs them to know he's sorry, but he has to respect their choice to stay with him because it is their choice to make. And he knows, of course he knows that if he says something all he'll accomplish is make them scramble to reassure him, and he doesn't want to do that, he doesn't want them to have to do that.

But Abelas says, don't hide from me, vhenan, and Ameridan doesn't want to do that either, not when they ask him not to.

"I just think.... sometimes I think it would have been better for you if you had never met me." Often, not sometimes, but Abelas does not need to know the sleepless nights at their side when he wonders if he should be gone my morning. "I... am sorry I allowed you to love me. When I knew it would not last for very long."

It is easier to speak with his back to them, so in that way they do let him hide a little bit. Though he wishes he could put his arms around them as their arms are around him, he doesn't wish to look them in the eye now.

you have told me that despite the pain of loss, you would not wish to have not loved your telana. your orinna.

His lips part as Abelas presses a kiss to the spot behind his ear, a frown appearing between his brows. "No, but..."

can you understand that i feel the same way for you? that i would not wish to have never had the chance to hold you like this, even if our time together is finite?

"...oh." He goes still, a breath held as he processes those words. Can you understand that I feel the same way for you? No, and—yes, because while he does not deserve it he can't deny that Abelas feels that way for him, he can't doubt them like that. Yes because he feels the same, yes because if the roles were reversed he would be doing what Abelas is doing now and hold on, hold on as tight as he could—yes because that it what it means to love and this is love and they both know what it means to love and lose.

He shifts, a small wiggle that makes Abelas loosen their hold (because of course they would, they strive so hard to accommodate him, twisting themselves twice over if they think they have to—) and he turns around within the circle their arms make until he's facing them. He doesn't look at them, buries his face against their chest instead, but his arms wrap around them. He holds on as their grip tightens again around his shaking shoulders.

Is it relief, these sobs wracking him, that he tries to muffle against Abelas' chest? It doesn't feel like relief, not quite. It feels like release. Not like finding safe footing after being cast out to sea, but like breaching the surface of the water, taking a breath, and seeing a shoreline.

"Yes", he says, when he can speak again. He reaches up, touches their cheek until their head tilts down so he can meet their gaze. "I can understand that. Remind me when I forget."

[skyheld]

i've talked about this with pal but i want it on my blog now that there's an Official Verse and all.

being at the center of things is ameridan's natural state of being and his greatest trauma, thinking he has to be the one to fix things is his greatest virtue and his worst flaw, in removing himself from the narrative he's deciding that in this conflict he can neither chose a side nor support both sides because they're both too right and too different. in his main verses, he sympathizes with solas' cause but not enough to not want to stop it, since there doesn't seem to be another way. in the verse where he joins the priestess he leans the other way, it's a shame about this world but something needs to be done, because that verse only works if the world state is at its worst and he has no hope left for it at all.

but with getting so close to abelas he can't ignore the ancient elves, and he can't lose hope entirely, because he has abelas. he can't support tearing the veil down because of the destruction he thinks it will cause. he can't support letting it stay because of the suffering of the spirits and the ancient elves. it's a question without an answer and he's saying he won't choose.

it's a defense mechanism of sorts because he knows whatever he chooses it will hurt him, whatever side he's on he will always wish the other wins. it's out of character and it makes him feel like he's giving up and letting others down. it's also in a way the first time he chooses, not necessarily what's best for him because he likely ends up isolating himself from the inquisition, but what he wants. he chooses a single person over the world and so in a sense, he chooses himself.

[skyheld]

from @aestuum // casadh shuffles into ameridan's room and pauses, looking blankly at the long hall with its hangings, its benches, its furs. absently they note new carvings on the wooden supports, another embellishment by hakkon no doubt.

they don't announce themself, but walk over to where ameridan sits, bent over his notebook. they don't remind him that it will hurt his eyes to do that here, where there is little natural light. they don't even take a seat next to him.

casadh stops, heartsore from their argument with dhavi yesterday and the way their emotions seem fixated on trampling them into the ground. they're tired. they don't want to talk. but being alone feels bad, too.

they sit on the ground next to his chair and lean against it, pulling their knees up to their chest, wrapping their arms tightly around their legs, and tucking their head into the dark, little hollow of their body.

unprompted | accepting | @aestuum, also @keepslore, children pls stop fighting don't you know you're siblings

Whatever Hakkon has done to the room is not subtle anymore, but there is a warmth and familiarity to the space which makes it comfortable. It reminds him of the smaller longhouses of those old-fashioned ciriane lords Drakon's empire had so little room for, the ones who'd drink from the skull of an ancestor's enemy and still prayed to their old gods in the same breath as the Maker. It unnerves some of the others staying at the LIghthouse, which frankly he does not mind. They are too comfortable up here in the north, thinking themselves the standard to which everything else is measured.

He is too focused on a sketch to look up as the door opens, though the sudden bright light makes it impossible not to notice. It is dark in here and he has to strain his eyes to draw, but he saw something yesterday and he needs to capture it before he forgets. In spite of the distraction, he does notice Casadh's silence, the slow shuffling steps towards him.

"Casadh? Are you—" His heart tightens with concern when they simply flop down on the floor beside him, still in complete silence. Oh, that is no good. For a moment he is frozen, unsure what he should do. They're not talking, they may not want to talk. That is fine. If all they want is company, to sit here in silence while he draws, he will give them that. But he needs to know that he's not ignoring anything.

He reaches out, places a hand on their shoulder, holding it firmly. "I am here, Casadh." A moment passes, and his hand remains. "Would you speak of what troubles you?"

[skyheld]

After all your silence, do you speak to me at last? - from abelas to hakkon hehe

THE BEAR & THE NIGHTINGALE PART II | not accepting | @weptduty

"I suppose I am."

The night is cold with clear skies and a southern wind. The fire feels like a distant thing, but warmth always does to one born of winter; Hakkon sits close to it anyway, knowing the chill of his presence will seep into the bones of this body if he isn't careful. He is rubbing grease into the leather straps wound around the handle of his axe. There is little he can do while Ameridan is asleep that will not wake him up, and even less that will allow the body the rest it needs. Sitting by the fire, looking over his gear, watching the flames and the stars—these are the small freedoms Hakkon is given. Ameridan seems to think them generous.

Sorrow hovers near the fire, disappointed, no doubt, that it isn't Ameridan here to welcome them back from their last mission. Had Sorrow been there at nightfall, even these freedoms would be taken. When they are there, Hakkon isn't allowed to take control of the body while Ameridan sleeps; even unconscious and unknowing he wants to stay in the arms of the one he loves. It makes no difference to Hakkon, he retreats into the back of the mind and takes little notice until he's called upon to rise, but it is another strike against Sorrow.

Yet Sorrow wasn't expected back so soon, and Ameridan is asleep. They'll never ask Hakkon to wake him up, they would never disrupt his rest like that. Instead they are stuck with Hakkon.

It amuses him greatly.

"Rejoice, Sorrow." He turns the greataxe over in his lap with a laugh. "One god at least takes note of your presence."

[skyheld]

from @weptduty // it is what passes for the night in the crossroads, and ameridan is spending it with him, rather than at the lighthouse. abelas does not like to go there if they cannot help it. it feels ... wrong, to be there when solas cannot. but the crossroads are relatively safe now, thanks to the efforts of solas' agents and rook's team.

ameridan fell asleep in their arms, and abelas held him for a few hours before they started to worry about how it would affect his neck and his back. they'd lain him down in the bed roll, pressed a kiss to his hair, and sat watch. they cannot sleep.

some time later, ameridan begins to move. he sits up, and turns towards the fire abelas had kept going all this while. but it is not actually ameridan who looks at him when ameridan's face tilts in his direction. abelas meets hakkon's gaze and nods.

they look back to the fire. it is easier to talk to hakkon if they are not looking at him directly, even if the god will speak to them with ameridan's voice regardless.

"i wish you had not come," they say into the fire. "i am grateful for the time, but i—i fear i am no longer ready for his passing."

unprompted but i deserved it | always accepting | @weptduty

Hakkon knew of Sorrow's existence before he came into this body. He was in Ameridan's head before he was in the rest of him, not so much prying as he was simply pulled into it, the old magic like a string between them that could stretch but never snap. He could see them then, Sorrow running through his old enemy like dye, colouring every memory and feeling and thought. Hakkon saw them, and still was not prepared for what it would feel like to be in a heart so permeated with them.

He knows the love is not his own. It isn't difficult to keep them separate. Yet he feels it. It is the warmth of a fire burning in an adjacent room. When Abelas looks at Ameridan, Hakkon sees it like he'd see light spilling from that adjacent room if the door was opened.

It is a strange, unfamiliar warmth. He doesn't think he's ever felt it before.

He sits on the bedroll, pale eyes reflecting the fire while the Chantry sun glows faintly on his brow. Faint pulses of magic dulls any pain in joints and bones, but Abelas is right to worry. There are limits to what Hakkon can heal. Pain, yes. Superficial wounds and injuries, yes. The slow weakening of heart and lungs and nerves and bone—no. Not indefinitely.

Sorrow speaks, and he is momentarily surprised at the honesty, the openness. Why would they share such a weakness? Do they not expect him to make use of it?

He regards them in silence, wondering what they might be playing at. And why should he care? Is he afraid? No, but—

"I have died countless times." He speaks slowly, more softly than usual—more like Ameridan speaks, though never entirely like him—and he speaks to the fire or perhaps to the room, not to Abelas. "But I have never died peacefully." It is an uncomfortable experience. Death should be swift and sudden; a blow, or many blows, blooming into unexpected, blinding pain and then sliding into nothingness; a single, sharp shock when every fiber of one's being fires off at once, and then the sinking feeling as it all shuts down. This—death in fits and starts, death in little realizations that yet another part is failing, death held off by haphazard magic and desperation—it is new.

He could tell Sorrow how much pain they have caused the one they love. How much worry over what they must be going through, how much guilt over putting them through it. How many sleepless nights wondering if it might be better to slip out of their arms and leave. Why even stay, if it is so painful? Why endure such suffering?

But he supposes, feeling the warmth from the adjacent room that is another's heart, that he knows why.

"It will be worth it." His voice sinks lower yet. "At the end of the day, past the suffering, it will be worth it. We will have our moment of glory. Then, we will have peace. It will be, I think, an interesting experience."

His eyes move restlessly as though trying to follow the movements of the flames. Peace. "What must happen will happen. It matters not if you are prepared or if you are grateful. You are here. You will be here. He..."

His love for you is the closest I have ever felt to summer.

"It will be worth it."

[skyheld]

a kiss to wake your lover up in the morning . - from abelas for ameridan

kisses more kisses | accepting | @weptduty

It is the first time in a long while that he wakes up knowing exactly where he is. And with whom.

Waking up is slow, usually. A confusing crawl through memories out of order. He is at home in the Dales and when he reaches out Telana or Orinna should— no. They aren't here, his hand grasps for nothing. He is with the Inquisition, then, one of their many small keeps scattered throughout the ciriane lands. He tries to remember which one and his half-asleep mind scrapes the bottom and returns: the Inquisition is no longer, you signed the Nevarran Accord. Then why is he not in the Dales? He remembers Drakon in Nevarra City, arguing for the Circles; he remembers his anger towards Drakon like a fresh wound; he remembers a message summoning him to Val Royeaux and thinking I am not going, I am not—

He remembers standing in the imperial chamber one last time, Drakon lifting his hand to kiss his knuckles like a penitent seeking forgiveness from a Chantry Mother before asking him this one last favour, to kill the god-dragon Hakkon. From there there is no stopping the landslide of memory, he is already remembering, he already knows, but he has to go through it anyway, he has to lose everything again—he is waking like he did in the basin, only slower, and all alone.

Which is good, in a way. He maintained his composure then, he doesn't do that every morning. He wouldn't want everyone to see what it's like when he doesn't.

But the sun hits his eyelids this morning, pulls him out of sleep and the first thing he knows is Abelas' breaths, rising to meet his own. He's lying on top of them, one hand tangled into their soft black hair, the other at their shoulder. His neck is aching from being tucked into the crook of theirs all night, unmoving. This is no problem. He'll wake with a crick in his neck every morning if it meant he could sleep like this. Wake like this.

It hasn't ceased to hurt. Sorrow is lodged in his heart and his bones. But a morning when the first thing he feels is love, not loss— that is something to be celebrated.

He folds an arm over Abelas' collarbone and lifts his head a little, gently, careful not to push hard and poke them with his elbow. They, too, look at peace. Their breaths are even, soft lips slightly parted, a strand of hair fallen across their forehead to rest beside his nose. When the sun nears their eyelids, Ameridan moves his other hand, cupping it over their browbone to give them shade.

"I know you are awake, vhenan." Still shading their eyes, he leans down to press his lips to the side of their jaw, then the corner of his mouth, until it twitches into a smile. "Good morning."

[skyheld]

A gentle kiss over a freshly placed bandage - for ameridan from casadh

kisses more kisses | accepting | @aestuum

"You should have asked me in the first place", Ameridan says gently, "instead of trying to do it on your own. This is so much easier for someone else to do. Tight enough?"

Casadh nods, head down to watch closely as the bandage is wound around their hand a few more times. Fortunately no sewing needs to be done, or Ameridan would be out of his depth. Cleaning, applying a salve to stave off infection, then bandaging the red and weeping burn in the middle of Casadh's palm-those things he can do without worrying he might do it wrong, especially with Casadh watching.

Mostly, he worries about causing them pain. He wants to ask what possessed them to try to put a flame out with their bare hand when any clothed part of their body would have sufficed. He wants to say that, for the record, Casadh is far more important than Ameridan is, so it they have to take a second longer to help him in order to help him safely, they should. A burn to the side of the hip is nothing compared to a burn to the palm.

He doesn't say it, because he doesn't like wasting words. As he tucks the bandage in securely, he lifts Casadh's palm to his lips and gives it a soft kiss, sending a small burst of healing magic into the tissue to encourage regrowth.

"I know you are too much like me to listen", he says. "You are so young. Do not break your body down thoughtlessly. Let it heal."

So much for not wasting words, Hakkon says.

"They will be fine", Ameridan says when Casadh is out of earshot.

For now, the god of war replies. So stop fretting. You have done what you can.

They both know it isn't enough.

[skyheld]

I know where the wild mint grows. And there will be elderberries if we are fortunate, and blackberries. (from @aestuum for ameridan)

THE BEAR & THE NIGHTINGALE PART II | not accepting | @aestuum

At least a forest is still a forest. The smell of damp earth and the sound of wind through pine needles and the crunch of dry leaves underfoot; the sudden flash of a stream through the trees. Lush and green and a little dangerous, it is easy to love, easy to cherish.

So he'll cherish that, or he'll try. He'll cherish that despite the ruins spiraling into the sky, more beautiful than any story could prepare him for and so wrong—so revoltingly wrong—beauty built on the backs of slaves, towers of lies, palaces of tyranny. They all dreamt of the old empire, of seeing even a fraction of its glory again. They dug out those old temples, dusted off the mosaics, studied the stonework so they could repair it. Now Arlathan itself is rising towards the heavens and they can all see it, they can all touch it. If they could but bring it down to the earth, they could make it whole again.

But they know better.

So Ameridan will cherish the forest. Because a forest is still a forest, and the earth can still love and be loved.

"Lead the way, then", he says, as they leave the Veil Jumper camp behind and follow the path uphill, away from the river. "And, Casadh..." not too fast. You seem tired. You should take this as a chance to rest; you deserve a calm walk through a forest, something easy, for once. "Not too fast. I am tired."

[skyheld]

(from @weptduty) they've been on the road for about a week—only a few more days before they find themselves once again in company. abelas prefers to keep away from settlements and towns when they can, simply due to the fact that it puts him on edge to be around so many people. he'll get used to it again, eventually, but for now ...

still, they can manage it if there is a goal in mind, like resupplying. they'd slipped away from ameridan in the market for only a few moments and when they return to his side they simply shrug and wave off questions of where they had gone.

later that evening, as they make camp, abelas pulls out of his cloak a trio of oranges.

almost shyly, suddenly uncertain if the gesture would be welcome, he asks, "would you like to share these with me?"

unprompted | always accepting

It is a very different perspective, traveling with Abelas. The current Inquisitor is never invisible—even when do not announce themselves with banners and forwards scouts, a qunari and an orlesian court mage and two elven mages hardly pass unnoticed—and the areas they travel are ones touched by war or where the Veil hangs in shreds. He has learnt much of the world through these journeys, of course, more than he can even remember.

But with Abelas he sees other places in other ways. They do not draw too many stares in a market unless they want to. They meet people going about their daily lives, unconcerned with rifts and venatori. And instead of things being explained to them by people who already know, they figure things out together.

He's surprised when Abelas leaves him at the market. They seem uncomfortable with crowds, so Ameridan always makes sure to stay close to them, to not leave them alone among people so different from him. He returns quickly, though, tight-lipped about his endeavor.

It remains a mystery until the evening. "I would—" He's not sure where that shyness comes from, and he doesn't understand it, but he looks at the oranges in Abelas' hands and his chest thrums a little. Not because they're oranges, but because Abelas must have seen them at the market and remembered that he loves them and decided not only to buy them but to buy them in secret so it would be a surprise. A gift.

That thoughtfulness is why he smiles so warmly at them when he takes one of the oranges, and why his hand lingers against theirs.

"I would love to share them with you."

[skyheld]

okay but if ameridan could give mythal a piece of his mind how would that go down

unprompted | always accepting

This is not a good idea, Hakkon says in his mind.

The war-god is anxious, but all Ameridan feels is the heat of his anger racing through his veins at the sight of the one standing at the end of the path. His step quicken as he walks toward her. He brushes past Casadh. Hakkon's strength drains from his legs as though the god-spirit is trying to slow him down, but he makes his own muscles walk and he pushes on until he stands in front of her.

Mythal. All-Mother.

Once he would have fallen to his knees. He would have wept with joy to see her, the heart of the Elvhenan; he would have felt like this was justification for all that happened to him, that it happened so he would be here in this moment. He would have felt like it made it worth it. Like it made him whole.

At least that is what he would have expected. Maybe, even without knowing what he knows about her, without seeing Abelas' hurt or Solas' memories, he would still have felt what he feels now: disappointment as bottomless as the abyss.

He does not kneel, nor weep. He stands straight, looking at the translucent figure in front of him, and something breaks. Inside his chest, in his heart, there is a crack like in an eggshell, fine lines branching throughout his body.

His lips part, and he speaks words he cannot remember thinking. "This cannot be all you are."

"It is all that remains." She lifts her head a little. Her voice is hard, bitter. It holds no power. The divine isn't encapsulated in it, it doesn't make the earth tremble. "That is still more than you or War have ever been, separate or together."

"It is nothing."

Ameridan, Hakkon says, tugging at his body, for once speaking his name, this is not wise.

He doesn't need to worry.

There is much he wants to say to her that is angry and accusational. He wants to remind her of how she turned Devotion into Sorrow. How she left him, and other with him, to guard over her knowledge of millennia while she was here, just watching, doing nothing to aid or comfort them. Everything Abelas ever told him, and everything they didn't tell but which he read between the words, in the sorrow he tried to kiss from their brow, he would lay at her feet like offerings at an altar. They should be the only ones she will receive, as they were the only blessings she ever gave.

But when he looks at her he sees that would be useless. She would not understand what he meant. She might grieve, but the grief would not lead to change. She is a statue. She is no more worthy of anger than a statue.

The crack continues on through him, and something breaks off. Something is lost, crumbling into ashes in the wind. Through the hole it leaves in his chest, all the anger dissipates.

"Have you nothing to say?" she asks.

"I loved you", he says. "The people loves you. I always knew you loved us back. I thought that was enough." He reaches up to touch his chest, fingers brushing that aching spot where something broke, and then he recognizes what it was. Faith. All of it. The faith there is some higher power at work. That things happen for a reason. That there is a meaning beyond that which he himself assigns to anything. That there was ever direction, guidance.

To love and be loved by something that cannot change in any meaningful way has no point. "You only mattered in your absence. Your presence can make no difference whatsoever." His voice falls to a whisper, and her face does not change. "So no. I have nothing further to say to you."

Away from her, away from that barren cage where the heart of the Elvhenan has idled away the ages watching her people suffer, he does fall to his knees. There is a hollowness inside him where faith crumbled away, a hollowness that screams for something to fill it but finds nothing. His hands are splayed out in the dirt, grasping the half-solid dust as though to seek anything, anything, to hold on to. There is no reason to raise his gaze. There is nothing above.

To love and be loved by something that cannot change in any meaningful way has no point, and it is the same with anger.

[skyheld]

Watch with me tonight. When you are here, I am stronger. (from @aestuum for ameridan)

THE BEAR & THE NIGHTINGALE PART II | not accepting | @aestuum

Ameridan sets the tea cup down on a rickety table beside Casadh, and pauses.

Nights are noisy in Dock Town, and the small alcove has thin wooden walls and only a tattered cloth for a door, but despite the drunken singing coming in from the street the girl is sleeping peacefully. Her fever is still high, her breathing rasping in her lungs. But all that can be done for her has been done, all the tonics poured down her throat, herbs burnt on the fire to fill the room with healing aroma. She will pull through this night, or she won't. All they can do is wait.

Watch with me tonight. He doesn't know when he became someone Casadh would look to for comfort. And maybe that isn't so strange in itself, because as much as he's tried to help them, the last few months have been... difficult does not cover it, but he doesn't want to poke to deeply into the matter to find the right word. The less said about the Evanuris until they're defeated the better. The less he thinks about the reports from the south, or from the places in the north the gods have struck, the less likely he is to crumble when he needs to act. He pushes on, they all push on. In the confusion, it comes as a surprise. When you are here, I am stronger.

He looks toward the cloth hanging over the doorway, the silhouettes of the rest of the family huddling outside visible in the most threadbare patches. He should not encourage that, that kind of closeness. Familiarity. It won't last. He did it to Abelas already, made it so that there is some happiness that depends on him, that will be gone when he's gone. He shouldn't do the same to Casadh. He shouldn't.

But he's not good at turning away. They deserve better than that, too.

"Of course." He takes the single step needed to reach the other side of the alcove, and sinks down onto the floor, because there is only barely room for Casadh's chair. His back is to the wall, legs stretched out in front of him. "We can take turns sleeping. I will wake you if anything changes."

[skyheld]

A smooch on the cheek after a long separation - from lace for ameridan

kisses more kisses | @hinterlnds

There were many people Ameridan knew he would miss when he left Skyhold to be with Abelas, but he doesn't quite realize how much he has missed Harding until he sees her again after so many years. She was there when he first woke in this age, a vital part of finding him (invaluable, professor Kenric said, a flush on his cheeks, unfathomable—) and she was there at Skyhold, as much a part of it as the soldiers and the Inquisitor. He has thought of her often, wondered what exciting part of the world she's scouting now, what she's seen, what she's done. He's hoped she's doing well.

He's still not quite prepared for what the sight of that freckled face, that red hair, that radiant smile does to his heart. She wraps him in a hug, and before he knows it, she has reached up to kiss him on the cheek. "Don't scare us like that again", she says, and he realizes she must have heard.

His smile falters. Now is not the time, he tells himself—they have things to discuss, far more important things that why he is still alive. It's a lie and he knows it, he can feel Hakkon's laughter scraping at the back of his mind.

"It is good to see you too, Scout Harding", he says, "even if the circumstances are... what they are. Let us get through what is most important first, and then I'll want to hear all about what you have been doing these past years."

[skyheld]

AMERIDAN:VERSE:SORROW IN MY HEART

this verse is single-ship with @weptduty but it's open for anyone to interact with should you want to.

getting close to abelas gives ameridan a much deeper perspective on the issue of the veil and the plight of the spirits and the ancient elves. while he can't fully support the plan to bring it down forcefully, he can't go against solas and his agents either, so he does what he has never done before and removes himself from the conflict as much as possible. throughout this verse he'll stay with abelas without actively taking a side. as abelas is with solas, ameridan is on the sidelines of this rebellion, but while he promises not to do anything to compromise their operations he's not sworn to the cause and agrees to be kept out of their plans. he doesn't expect to be trusted beyond being allowed to stay.

of course, ameridan can only stay out of a world-changing conflict for so long. there has to be a better solution to this, and with that thought he starts doing his own research into the veil, hoping to find some way to take it down in a less devastating way. deep down he knows the chances of him stumbling upon something solas hasn't already found is extremely slim, but it keeps him from feeling useless.

he still deals with the same health problems as in his main verses and as in those, the only way he survives until veilguard is by being possessed by hakkon.

[skyheld]

a kiss that seals a promise . - from abelas for ameridan

kisses more kisses | @weptduty

They have come a long way from their first journeys together, venturing out as strangers to each other as much as they were strangers to the world, strung together by the way their stories echoed one another. A long way from the first time Abelas named him friend and Ameridan felt his heart quiver because while he bestows the title easily, generously, and means it every time, he has a feeling from Abelas it comes more slowly. A long way from arguments over chicken that were never really arguments, nor over chicken.

Their walks have always been slow, meandering. Long conversations woven into long stretches of silence. The fondness that has grown in those silences, out of those conversations, hasn't been spoken yet. They are friends, yes. And they could be more. Ameridan feels is in the quiver in the air between their fingers, every time Abelas reaches out to help him over some obstacle that he doesn't need help to get over anymore. He feels it when they move through some crowded place and Abelas' breathing becomes more laboured, and Ameridan takes his hand, twines their fingers together, and feels them relax even before they reach the more secluded corner he leads them to.

At night, he touches the amulet Orinna made him, hanging on the same leather string as the promise ring that was part of his and Telana's wedding. He falls asleep with his hand around them, and across the fire Abelas sleep with their own past clutched in their hands.

Their next camp is somewhere near Redcliffe. They are making their way back to Skyhold; they will be staying a while to spend time with Dhavihal and, for Ameridan at least, with the others he's grown close to in the Inquisition. It is a beautiful night, the stars strewn in a thick ribbon like droplets of spilled milk, but cold, with a breeze from the Frostbacks finding its way under their clothing. Ameridan has despised cold ever since the basin; it's like it's made a home in his bones and only needs the slightest breeze to come out.

At the first small shiver, a moment before he stands up to fetch it himself, Abelas walks over to their packs and unfastens a rolled-up blanket strapped to the bottom of one. He unrolls it, shakes out some leaves, and drapes it around Ameridan in the same motion as he sits beside him.

"Is that alright?" His arm doesn't leave Ameridan's shoulders after placing the blanket over them. "Will you be warm enough?"

"I will be. Thank you." After a moment, Ameridan let's his head fall against their side. "Is that—is that alright? Can I rest my head here?"

They are warm, their breathing steady. "You can."

"Promise me you will let me know if you are uncomfortable."

"I am not."

"Abelas." His voice is soft but insistent, and he twists his head until he can meet their gaze. "Promise me."

He folds. This ancient elf who walked with the gods, who guarded the Well of Sorrows for millennia—he folds, gaze softening, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I promise."

Warmth seeps through Ameridan's body, makes it soft and heavy. Unconsciously his hand reaches up towards the amulet hanging around his neck, fingers closing around it through the fabric of his clothes. Certainty blooms in his chest when his hand comes to rest against it. Certainty for what he wants, and how he feels about wanting it. "Can I..." he says, and simultaneously, Abelas asks: "May I kiss you?"

Laughter, quick and breathless. Yes, and yes.

Abelas leans down, and Ameridan pulls himself up to meet them. It is a brief, chaste kiss. Their lips are gentle, careful, searching. Abelas is cupping the side of his face; after a moment, he let's go of the amulet Orinna made and reaches up, touching the back of their head, pulling them gently down towards him. He wants more, he could go so much farther, but—

He needs this to be slow. He needs to let his heart and mind catch up to his body. And he thinks Abelas needs that too.

He pulls back. They lower their hands almost simultaneously, so it is easy, almost inevitable, for them to brush each other and then to intertwine.

"Was that alright?"

"Yes", Abelas says, and presses a small kiss to the top of his head as though it's the most natural thing in the world. Ameridan tilts his head back. "Again?"

They smile. "Yes."