#shianni:ic

[skyheld]

Just knowing that’s getting me through. // from maxima to shianni, not to word vomit but I really cannot explain into words how maxima truly thought that no one like shianni would look at her with any sort of positive feelings. it is so healing in the strangest and saddest of ways

MEME TAG | ACCEPTING!

There are things Shianni doesn't know about Maxima, and maybe never will. Things seen in sideways glances and half-finished words, in the way a hand brushing her skin suddenly stop and withdraws; things scattered like broken porcelain around their bare feet. This is fine. There are things Shianni will never tell Maxima because telling her, telling anyone, would be like ripping thorns out of her heart; she'd have to crack her own ribs to pluck them out and hand them over, and the stains on Maxima's hands if she held them would never go out. So they will never be spoken of. There's a sort of love in letting those secrets remain; in saying I love you, even those dark recesses of your mind which I have no access to; I love you with your locked vaults and sealed tombs; I love you so let us hold our secrets like broken-winged birds, cradling them gently between us instead of trying to make them go away.

But it means that there are times Shianni doesn't know what she has said to make Maxima react a certain way. Words spoken almost carelessly which strike a chord in one of those sealed tombs, and she can't know why. There's a deep sadness locked away in there; how can she not want to know it and understand it; how can she not look for it in those glances and those words, trying to find a piece she can fix? Who hurt you? Let me hurt them back. Let me take the pain and make it theirs. But it doesn't work like that. She can't fix what she didn't break. All she can do is move a little closer, stay a little longer.

"Good", she says, reaching up to cup Maxima's chin with her fingertips, tilting it gently, gently towards her. "Then I'll remember that. For whenever you need something to get through whatever it is you're going through. I'm going to remember to say that to you again."

After all, why would she need to know why? It meant something. That's all that matters. The injured bird is in her hands; maybe one day it will be healed and fly away. Until then she will take care of it.

[skyheld]

@highteyrna asked: “Maybe showing one act of kindness leads to kinder souls down the road.” / for shianni! | EPIC: THE MUSICAL | accepting

That's a pretty thought, Shianni thinks, not even pausing in her tiresome task of washing blood from the floorboards of the Tevinter hospice. A stupid, pretty thought, just right for a noble girl brought up with gold slippers and white ponies. Did she throw coins out the windows of her carriage when she passed by the slums, and watch as the poor scrabbled and fought in the dirt for them, feeling all generous? Or was she the rebellious kind of girl who ran barefoot through the fields, so the servants had to do three times the laundry for her while she thought herself above those other girls?

Then, taking a moment to straighten her back and brush her short hair out of her eyes, she looks at the Warden and remembers those slippers and ponies are probably ashes by now, and the servants may all be dead. They all heard of what happened to the Couslands. The messy outline at least, if not all the gory details — but she thinks she can probably guess at those. So maybe it isn't such a pretty thought. Maybe that hope is like Shianni's hope that the world is ultimately good: a tiny flame, struggling to stay alive when everything and everyone has tried to quench it.

Her shoulders fall then, her face softening. Her instinct is to snap, like a dog at someone's fingers because another's hand hurt it — but somewhere inside her is another instinct. Following that, she speaks her hope aloud. "I think that's true. I want to believe it. We have to, don't we? Otherwise it would be unbearable. To think kindness means nothing."

She bends her back, lowers her head over the brush and its moving again, scraping at the dark stain. Even with so many taken, and others killed in the purge, enough refugees have come from outside the city there won't be room for all of them. Someone will need this house, whatever its history.

Her hope falters, thinking of it. "It's not down the road we need kindness, though, it's now. If we have to hold out much longer, I'm afraid it'll be too little and too late."

[skyheld]

@mercysought asked: "I never thought I'd see you so vulnerable. It's strange." from anora to shianni

It's uncomfortable, Shianni thinks, but she doesn't say it.

Anora must know she doesn't like being here, on her back on a couch in the Queen's private apartments, shirt and stays staining the floor beside her with blood, while a healer stitches up the knife wound in her side — and not only for the obvious reasons, which is that getting stabbed hurts like hell. No, Anora has to know that Shianni doesn't want to be this helpless in front of her, that she still feels less safe here than in the Alienage, where an assasssin could have entered and left as easy as the stray cats. Anora has to know this, so there's no need for Shianni to say it. It would be unwise. And unkind.

They can never be friends. Their stations make it impossible. Thus they can never want to be vulnerable in front of each other. But to say that out loud?

No. She just smiles, stoic despite the pain, and waits until the healer has left before she says anything. " Speaking of vulnerable... " She pulls her shirt down, grimacing as the stitches pull at her skin. " Your Majesty, this assassin was for you, not for me. I know you're already on it, and there's nothing I can do, but still. I worry. "

She turns her head to look at Queen, trying to read her face. She must be shaken. Shianni is sure these aren't the first assassins to try for the Queen's life, but getting so far as her own chambers? Close enough to actually take the stab — only Shianni was there to throw herself in front? This is Anora's home.

Even injured and in shock, even with the distance of race and rank between them, Shianni wants to reach out to her. Comfort her. Is there anyone she'll confide in? Who will she go to if she needs to break down? Not Shianni — because like her Anora cannot be vulnerable in her presence. It's a privilege they simply don't have.

And yet that doesn't mean she can do nothing.

" The assassin — he thought I was a servant ", she says, brows drawing close together as she thinks back to those brief moments — the footman hovering just a little too close as he poured the tea for the Queen, the teapot clattering to the floor to distract her, the blade flashing in his hand. " That's why he went for you even though I was there — he thought a servant wouldn't care, wouldn't dare. Oh! " Her eyebrows lift with a sudden idea and she sits up, or tries — a stab of pain almost as bad as the stab of the knife makes her freeze in her movement and ease back down. " An elven body guard, your majesty. One who looks like a servant, who doesn't look like she can fight at all, but who can defend you if this ever happens again. Preferably someone with some armour underneath their clothes, but that's beside the point... I have just the woman in mind. "

[skyheld]

@ghilannainguideme liked for a starter  !

“ We’ll need a lot of flowers.   Tall ones,  so we can make a garland.   The farmers don’t like it when we’re in their fields but we can pick them from the side of the road. “   She hands Lyna a bucket and points to the side of the small dirt road,  which branches off from the main road towards the villages surrounding Denerim.   “ All the others will be making them too.   Then we’ll put them together,  and wrap it around the Vhenadal.   It’ll make sense when you see it.   Oh, and--- “   A grin,  freckled with the summer sun.   “ Because we’re unmarried, we’re supposed to be quiet until tomorrow,  but I don’t think we have to do that. “

[skyheld]

@ghilannainguideme asked:  "Face it, ma vhenan, the more things change, the more they stay the same." for Shianni

It’s not like Lyna to be cruel.   It’s not like her at all,  so Shianni knows that,  even though they sting in the place she’s already hurting,  those words aren’t meant to be cruel.   They’re meant to be realistic,  and truthful,  and ultimately kind.   Truth,  as much as it can hurt,  is always kinder in the long run.

But Shianni's lips tremble;  she bites them to make them stop.   Her hands come to rest on the edge of the wash tub,  shoulders falling heavily and the dress she has spent the better part of an hour trying to clean slipping through her fingers into the cold water.   She lets it fall,  watches it sink.   Yellow velveteen stained an ugly,  glaring,  humiliating pink.

That dress is her finest,  or was.   Yards and yards of swishy fabric,  the bodice lined with cotton and embroidered at the front,  lace at the sleeves and the neckline.    It cost her so much that when she returned from the tailor with it she had to go behind the house to throw up,  feeling as though she’d traded a winter’s worth of food for the sake of vanity.   Although it’s not vanity.  She needs at least one dress suitable for court.   At least one dress that makes her look equal to the other banns,  that makes it impossible for them to mistake her for a servant and does not look out of place on a ballroom floor.   Wearing the bodice with the different skirt,  or the skirt with a nice jacket and an apron,  she gets several more outfits from the one set,  appropriate for business.   It’s akin to armour for a warrior;  costly but necessary for her occupation.

And that,  of course,  the other nobles are aware of.   It’s a weakness that can so easily exploit.   Throw some wine at her dress,  and now what will she wear the next time there’s a meeting at court?

A dress with an ugly stain on it?   Another one not half so fine?   Or this one,  hopelessly bleached by the vinegar she used to remove the wine?   All options are laughable.   But they’re the only ones she has.

When Lyna sits down beside her,  Shianni heaves a sigh from the bottom her stomach and tucks her head against her wife’s shoulder.   “ I thought, “  she begins,  and then nothing.   She’s tired.   Every time her mind touches on that moment Bann Macsen emptied his goblet over her chest,  and the way he laughed,  and the way the others laughed  (  all but Bann Alfstanna,  but even she did not speak up  )  she feels the humiliation all over again,  and she wants to curl up inside her skin as tiny as a mouse.   It hurts.   It hurts that earlier that evening,  in the Queen’s presence,  Macsen called her  ‘ lady Tabris ‘  without an ounce of sarcasm in his voice,  and she thought he’d changed his opinion on her.   It hurts that lady Howell once swore to take Shianni’s side,  and yet today she laughed with the others.

They may side with her against a foreign ambassador,  a gossiping servant,  maybe even a mob of commoners.   But when it comes to one of their own,  they will close rank against her otherness.

“ I thought “,  she says again,  but still,  she can’t continue.   She dries her hands on her apron.   They’re freezing cold,  the knuckles red and cracking.

If it’s true,  she thinks,  if nothing ever really changes,  then there’s no point in trying.   There’s no point in any of this.   I’m humiliating myself for nothing.

And yet.   And yet she has to keep trying,  because the only other option is to give up.

“ Hold me “,  she says,  even though Lyna already is,  even though the Warden’s arms have been around her for as long as she has been falling apart.   Where her spine falters,  where her strength gives out  ---  Lyna’s arms,  safe and strong.   “ Just hold me for a while. “

[skyheld]

@ghilannainguideme​ asked: ✵ for the wife :3 and if you want, for Dalish or another character of your choice?

Their first impression of your muse:  “ When she showed up in the alienage it was like Andraste herself had sent her,  except she wouldn’t have appreciated that,  so...  some Dalish god,  I suppose.   I try to learn their names for her but...  Anyway,  she was the first one,  the only one,  who listened when I said something was up with those tevinter healers,  and who did something about it.   It didn’t really matter who she was at the time as long as she could help me,  she could’ve been a brute or a rogue or even a shem for all I cared...  but I supposed what she was was a knight in shining armour,  coming out of the woods to help me.   Does that sound silly?   I bet that sounds silly. “

Current impression:   " She’s the light of my life and I want to be with her forever. “

Are they attracted to your muse?:   “ Who,  me?   To the Warden-Commander?   Oh no,  I couldn’t be,  I mean  ---  she’s just all muscle and strongness and a cute nose and those arms  ---  it’s not like we’re married,  right?   Oh wait,  I just remembered,  she’s my wife and I’m hers.   I guess I am a little attracted.   Tell everyone. “

Something they find frightening about your muse:  " She says being a Grey Warden will kill her and there’s nothing to be done about that and I say that’s bullshit,  I won’t let it happen,  and we try to forget it but it  ---  it frightens me to think she’s right and it will kill her and I’ll be useless because I can’t do anything about it. “

Something they find adorable about your muse:  “ Sometimes she snores in her sleep and its the cutest thing.   Also,  everything else. “

Would my muse sacrifice themselves for yours?:  “ In a heartbeat. “

Would my muse go on a date with yours?  platonic/romantic:  “ Don’t tell her,  but next time she’s in Denerim I’m taking her to one of the places I used to work in the harbour.   Was a shithole then,  but the new owner is a half-elf,  grew up in the alienage,  and it’s gotten better.   He owes me a favour,  so I told him he could pay me back with a private room and a dinner for two. “

One word my muse would use to describe yours:  “ Wife. “

Would my muse slap yours if they could?: Never.

Would my muse hug/kiss yours?:   All the time,  preferably.

Their first impression of your muse:   " Heard about her before I met her  ---  a Dalish elf saving Ferelden from the Blight;  every elf was talking about it.   Shemlen don’t realize how much the People talk between each other,  how far news spread without them noticing,  city to city and clan to...  but that’s beside the point.   She’s a hero,  and one of the better ones.   Not an asshole or a bigot.   Just a woman with a big sword.   I like that. “

Current impression:   “ I don’t know her that well,  but there’s something,  mm... sad about her.   Same with most Wardens I’ve met,  really.   Like they know something we don’t and it makes them sad.   I guess she’s the strong,  stoic type,  but in a nice kind of way... and she’s still a woman with a big sword,  and I still like that a lot.

Are they attracted to your muse?:  “ How shall I put it...  ah,  ‘ woman with a big sword ‘.   Yes. “

Something they find frightening about your muse:  " She’s a Grey Warden.   She stopped a Blight and killed an Archdemon.   She has seen things,  done things...  I don’t know if they make her frightening,  but they surely changed her.   And if they didn’t,  that’s more terrifying than anything. “

Something they find adorable about your muse:  “ I’m sure there’s something,  but I can’t say I’ve seen something adorable about her yet.   Awe-inspiring?   That would be easier. “

Would my muse sacrifice themselves for yours?:  " I mean,  she’s a hero and all,  but it’s a bit early for dramatics.   I’d offer to take the last slice of pie. “

Would my muse go on a date with yours?  platonic/romantic:  “ I doubt she’d be interested,  but yes. “

One word my muse would use to describe yours:  “ Woman with a...  just kidding,  that’s too many.   Hellathen;  a noble struggle,  something you fight for the good of the world and not personal gain. “

Would my muse slap yours if they could?:  “ wouldn’t dream of it. “

Would my muse hug/kiss yours?:   “ Gladly! “

[skyheld]

@ghilannainguideme asked:  ❝You never forget your first time, your first battle.❞   |  The Old Guard  |  accepting!

“ I wish I would,  though. “   Shianni hugs her knees,  digging her toes into the dirt below the wooden step that leads up to the house.   Her home,  still intact and liveable,  even though it smells terribly of smoke inside.   What remains of the Tabris family has been lucky.   Much of the Alienage is at the very least damaged;  some houses and streets so badly so there’s no use trying to save what’s left.   They must tear down and build it up again.   With what money and material,  she doesn’t know.

" It’s one thing when I’m awake “,  she says,  head bowed down to her chest.   “ But I keep dreaming about those---  those things.   The big ones with the horns and those small,  sneaky ones---  ugh. “   She makes a face.   “ Ugly fuckers,  aren’t they?   Almost as ugly as shems. “

[skyheld]

@mercysought said:  ‘ protect yourself. ’ from anora to shianni

the mountain goats starters  |  accepting!

" Your Majesty,  I... I can’t... “

Emotion clogs Shianni’s throat,  choking her speech.   With trembling fingers she touches the hardened leather,  tracing a decorative seam that runs down the length of the chestpiece,  shaped perfectly to her body.   It feels sturdy.   An arrow would have a hard time punching through this,  at least at a distance.   And yet,  it’s so light and smooth that if she wanted too,  she could wear it under a dress and it would hardly be visible.

Protect yourself.

Be safe.

Anora can’t protect her.   She can’t fill the Alienage with her soldiers,  and she can’t hope to catch every would-be attacker before they get a chance to strike.   She can only help provide Shianni with the means to protect herself.

This...  when royals give gifts to their vassals,  it can be a political thing.   The gifts can be a symbol,  an expectation,  even a slight.   But Shianni knows this is none of that.   This gift is not from the Queen to one of her Banns.   It’s from Anora,  to her.

“ Thank you “,  she finally chokes out.   “ It’s...  beautiful. “   It is,  though that’s obviously not the main purpose.   “ Should I... do you think I have time to try it on? “

[skyheld]

@mercysought said: ❝ Being that far away, you see things differently. ❞ from anora to shianni!

Black Sails season 2 starters |  accepting!

“ I imagine so. “

Turning the tea cup over in her hands,  Shianni admires its design.   Truly,  she has never seen anything like it.   Fereldan potteries don’t make things like these  ---  so delicate and detailed,  the ear shaped like bouquets of flowers,  the cup itself so thin its translucent when held up to the light,  and of course  ---  the bright paint,  the trace of gold around the rim.   She has never seen Orlais and probably never will,  but in her mind she can picture what a place that produces tea sets like this would look like.

“ Ferelden must look small from there “,  she says,  and thinks:  but not in the way this cup is small.   Not small and delicate;  but squat and coarse,  lowly and dull.

Kind of,  she thinks,  like the Alienage from here.   If she leans out one of the Queen’s windows,  she can see it,  a narrow,  wall-enclosed part of the city greyer and darker than the rest.   All of Denerim looks small from up here,  but the Alienage especially so.   Inside,  the walls seem to tower and the rest of the world is blocked out;  it seems as though there’s nothing out there.   From up above,  the perspective is very different.

“ I suppose it’s no wonder they see fereldans as barbarians.   From up in their lofty palaces or châteaux or whatever they’re called,  it probably looks that way.   And they’d never step down to our level and look for themselves,  would they?   But we know it’s big enough.   As long as they don’t try to conquer us again it doesn’t matter. “  

She puts the cup back on its equally-as-delicate saucer,  as gently as she can for fear of breaking it.   Not that it wouldn’t be satisfying to drop the thing to the floor and let it shatter,  but it doesn’t belong to her.   “ Don’t worry too much about what you should write to the empress.   No matter how eloquent you are she’ll always see you as fereldan;  that’s her problem,  not yours,  so only she can change it.   Just thank her for the tea set and say it’s almost as good as your old one. “

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@ghilannainguideme said:   ❝  it would not be improper for us to dance.  ❞ :3

ballroom dialogue prompts  |  accepting!

Terrified as she is now,  Shianni could get used to occations like this.

The nobles whisper behind her back and turn away when she nears;  the servants pretend she doesn’t exist,  offering refreshments on silver platters to anyone but her.   But they always do.   It’s the same old treatment she always gets;  it’s just that here it comes with music and food and fancy clothes.   She could enjoy it.   She wants to enjoy it.

She wants to dance.   No one else has asked her to,  and she doubts anyone will.   But there’s no one she’d like to dance with more than Lyna anyway.

“ I suppose it wouldn’t. “   Though her hands tremble with nervosity  ---  they will be watched,  and judged  ---  her eyes sparkle.   She clears her throat,  mustering her best impression of a noble lady’s voice and mannerisms.   “ Would you do me the honour of a dance,  Warden-Commander Mahariel? “

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@mercysought said:  the night is now half - gone. from maxima to shianni

sappho sentence starters  |  accepting!!

With those words,  spoken softly into the firelit room,  Shianni wakes from her slumber on Maxima’s shoulder and makes a move as though to lift her head  ---  to restore propriety,  things to how they should be,  distant and without scandal.   But her weariness is like a heavy blanket,  keeping her down and down.   The couch is soft and Maxima is warm against her,  her scent sweet and flowery.   Tantalizing.   Enchanting.

Yes,  outside the window darkness has fallen completely,  enveloping the mansion at the center of the Alienage.   At this hour,  only thieves and city guards inhabit the streets.   Even the most harried of merchants and bureaucrats are asleep,  if not in their beds then with their heads on their desks.   It is far too late for other meetings than the clandestine,  the secret and the scandalous.

But Shianni doesn’t care about that.   She remains still,  breaths deep and slow and comfortable,  one hand entwined with Maxima’s fingers.

“ If you’re saying you ought to leave... “   She lifts heavy eyelids,  looking at the other woman through her pale lashes,  and her smile is sleepy and warm.   “ I won’t stop you.   But it’s dangerous on the streets this time of night.   And I really...  I really don’t mind if you stay. “  

In fact,  wouldn’t it be cruel to make her lift her head;  wake her up fully?   She’s still so tired,  and so very comfortable here on Maxima’s arm.

“ After all “,  she says,  “ the night is only half gone.   There’s still plenty of time to... discuss things. “

[skyheld]

@mercysought​ asked: ❛  i see little futures in the distance but none belong  ❜ // from Maxima to Shiani!

She doesn’t respons at once,  because she wants to sympathize but cannot relate.   Shianni has been able to see the future clearly for many years.   It isn’t small,  it isn’t distant.   There is a line leading from here to there,  from now to then,  as straight as an arrow’s flight and as bright as the sun.   She only needs to look up to see it.

It hasn’t always been that way.   Before the Blight she had only a vague idea of wanting to change things,  but she didn’t know how.   She wanted different than what she was expected to aim for,  but couldn’t fathom what else there was.   Now she’s Bann of the Alienage,  and all of that has been made clear.   She has the power to change things;  she has the means.   The goal is clear and the path is revealing itself.

It’s not easy.   It certainly isn’t without its doubts,  its risks,  its gambles.   Some plans she can only form gradually,  some things she has to improvise in stride.   But the general outline is there.

Yet,  she threads her fingers with Maxima’s,  marvels as always at the smoothness of her skin,  and says:  “ You belong. “

And as strange as it sounds,  she means it.   She shouldn’t,  because Maxima is a noblewoman,  an orlesian,  a human;  all that is against her,  against her people.   But she’s also Maxima.   Just Maxima.

And for all that she’s Bann,  and city elf,  and hahren,  sometimes Shianni is also just...  Shianni.

“ Here.   With me. “   Her fingers curl tighter,  anchoring.   “ Whatever futures await you,  one of them will always be here,  as my friend. “

[skyheld]

@ghilannainguideme​ said: ‘ do you know he was out all night in the rain? ’ for Shianni 

“ I do.   Cyrion told me so. “

She throws a defiant glance out the window to where Soris stands,  huddled in morning grey,  among the puddles under the dripping bows of the venadhal.   His clothes hang limply,  heavy with water.   He must be cold.   He’ll get sick if he doesn’t get inside,  gets a change of clothes and something warm in him.

But he will.   She’s sure of it.   Soon enough he’ll give up this stupid game and head inside somewhere else.   Somewhere not her house.

Forgive me,  he wrote,  in that letter she told Cyrion she didn’t read.   In all of them,  actually.   You have to,  cousin.   You can’t be angry forever.

Yes,  she can,  damn it!

“ There’s a tavern, “  she says,  more petulant than indifferent.   “ And he’s got friends,  doesn’t he?   It’s not like everyone minded him marrying some shem woman and moving to Highever.   Any of them can take him in.   I told him he’s not welcome.   It’s his fault for showing up anyway. “   Something twists inside her chest,  something small and sad and guilty,  and suddenly she can’t look at him anymore,  even from afar.   She lowers her gaze to the floor.   The warm rug,  the glow of firelight.   Soris out there,  having come all this way to see her,  to speak to her...

No.

She’s the stubborn one in this family.

“ Or, “  she says,  crossing her arms,  “ he could go back to wherever his wife’s waiting.   I bet she’s at some fancy human tavern,  wondering what he’s doing here in the slum. “

[skyheld]

b.uzzfeed unsolved  |  accepting!  |  @ghilannainguideme

“ Don’t say that! "   A moment ago she was all purpose,  eyeing the decrepit house with her thoughts on its potential uses,  the cost of renovating it versus that of tearing it down and building something new in its place,  if the interior can be salvaged,  if it can all be done by winter...  now a shiver runs down her spine,  and the hairs rise at the back of her neck.   Isn’t the alley darker than it should be at this time of the day?   Isn’t there a strange noise in the wind;  like a voice?

“ It’s not haunted, “  she says,  but moves closer to Lyna all the same.   “ It’s just a bit old and creepy,  is all. “

[skyheld]

legend of zelda starters  |  accepting!  |  @mercysought

Shianni looks up from the letter she’s trying to read.  

Empress Celene’s handwriting is flowery and smooth as silk,  blooming all over the page like a rose garden,  and the meaning of its complicated,  overly formal passages keeps eluding her.   That’s why she hasn’t even noticed dusk has fallen,  or that the queen has moved from the other side of her desk to one of the windows.   There she stands, illuminated by the candles in the room and the twilight from outside.   Oftentimes Shianni has been stricken by how beautiful she looks,  or how regal,  or how strong  ---  but now is strikes her she looks lonely too.

She doesn’t know how to answer her.   She wouldn’t at all if it wasn’t a question,  but when a queen asks a question of you,  you do not ignore it.   Not even if that queen is your friend and shares her plans for building an university,  even her private correspondance,  with you.

But at least Shianni isn’t afraid to be frank.

“ I think I do sometimes.   And you? “  

She moves too from the desk to the window,  stands beside but not too close.    She knows the answer,  of course  ---  Anora wouldn’t ask if she did not feel it herself,  this strange sadness of hers.   Is it truly strange,  though?   Shianni cannot be certain what troubles her,  but she can imagine.   Dusk,  when the darkspawn struck Denerim.   Dusk,  when she misses her father the most  (  as Shianni sometimes misses her mother  ).   Dusk,  when the homeless huddle up in a doorway for warmth,  when the poor go to sleep their hunger away,  when orphans cry for someone to hold them,  when her citizens suffer out of her reach...

No,  it would be stranger if she was happy.

“ Do you want to talk about it,  Your Majesty?   You can trust me,  you know that. "   Some might say she’s too forward,  but Shianni has a feeling Queen Anora likes her forwardness.    She smiles,  faintly.   “ The Empress’s letter bores me anyway. “

[skyheld]

And a smooch on the face for Shianni, if she's comfortable, from Maxima maybe

give me smooches!!  |  @mercysought

It’s not quite right  ---  quite advisable.   What would her people say if they saw her,  kissing a human noble?   One from Tevinter at that?   The same thing she feels,  most likely  ---  that she is being careless,  unwise  ---  hypocritical,  even  ---  that she’s playing with fire.   But there’s a fire burning inside Shianni too,  and it’s been burning for too long.   She can’t put it out.   She doesn’t want to.   She wants to fuel it.   She wants---

her.   I want---  I love---  I want her.

Is it love,  or is it...  something else?   She’s not sure,  she can’t figure it out,  she feels too much and too strongly and it doesn’t really matter anyway,  but she WANTS.   And she is offered,  and she takes.

It’s a tentative kiss  ---  both fumbling,  afraid to cross a line they shouldn’t,  staying too well away from it to satisfy.   And it’s exhilarating,  in that it isn’t supposed to be and yet is.   Maybe it means nothing and maybe it will be forgotten the moment they pull apart,  never to be spoken of again.  

But for the time it lasts,  for all its carelessness and hypocricy,  its lack of wisdom,  its not-quite-rightness  --- it is a tender thing.