I know a little more about knives than you might think, ( sara responds quickly, fingers carding gently through leliana's hair, slow. the distance between them — metaphorical and literal, at the beach and right here and now — had felt immeasurable and she's glad to finally hold her like this again. it's far easier, makes her happier that she can maybe provide some comfort to leliana.
what isn't easy, without a doubt, is trying to explain herself. all sara can do is try, even if it means she stumbles a little bit. )
I know what it's like to feel like a danger to the people that I care about. I know what it's like to kill without remorse or even a second thought. ( she takes a breath, to gather her thoughts, maybe. ) We're more alike than you think.
( It is a relief, all this. To have Sara's fingers in her hair, and this closeness back. Leliana does not—
She has come to realise she is not close with people easily, for exactly the reasons she told Sara. Friendships are easier, but they aren't easy. Charming people is one thing, manipulating them another, but for someone to truly like you simply for you are? To make the acquaintance of those whom understand you well? That is more challenging. Alistair and Zevran are as brothers to her, Kallian and Shale her sisters, Sten a grumpy, grumpy uncle. Wynne— she is not Dorothea, but there is something of the motherly in her. (Morrigan she would have been glad to call sister, but they have ever been too much at odds.) The party she travels with are family, wounded as she finds her self feeling at their hand. )
I know.
( She says it very quietly. ) Not about the killing, ( she clarifies, although very gently. Staying hugging Sara is too easy and too tempting, and so she makes no move to, well, move. ) I knew you and I had certain things in common. Or, at least, that there was something more to you.
( Though Leliana does not draw back, she shifts just slightly, so she can press a kiss to Sara's cheek, her left hand curling at the back of Sara's neck, thumb brushing over her skin. ) I think you're wonderful, no matter what you've done in the past.
( the kiss is sweet, the idle brush of leliana's thumb equally so. this woman in her arms is kind and caring and, perhaps, above all else, ridiculous. it makes sara shake her head even as she smiles. )
You need to give yourself the same forgiveness that you give to others, ( she insists as gently as she can, dropping a kiss onto the top of leliana's head and rubbing a hand reassuringly against her back. even sara knows that she's a pot calling the kettle black by trying so hard to instill this within leliana, but sara's working through her own demons, too, trying to accept her past but not to let it tarnish her present.
how could she, when things are as they are in eudio? teammates, friends old and new, her sister. but eudio's provided sara a chance to separate herself from her past, and it offers the same to leliana. )
( Well. She exhales, and exhales unhappily or maybe just dissatisfied with the words she is using, when she is meant to be better than this. )
I did. I— I thought that joining the Chantry and serving the Maker would change me. And I think it did? I believed I was different.
( And then she came to Eudio, and perhaps that is the painful difference between them. Leliana in her own world had found it easier to have faith in herself and her purpose and everything else, but in Eudio she was presented with the possibility of a future that went against all of that. It echoed Marjolaine's words all too easily. For a moment she is silent, head tucked against Sara, and it might feel slightly ridiculous to be like this when she's taller than Sara, but she opts that it's definitely not. )
Alistair told me once that I frighten him. We were joking around at the time, but... with everything that the others have said, I just keep going over and over what our party have said. Foolish comments made while travelling or around the campfire, or... we see a lot of terrible things. I wondered sometimes if that prompted them to certain words, and even to actions, but that does not mean that I am not a deceiver, or frightening, or simply a graceful killer.
( Her words are spoken softly, but it does not mask the emotion in them, a degree of fear. ) I don't know what to do.
I think that you're sweet and beautiful and a little ridiculous sometimes, but you're so completely genuine and caring that I can't even process it sometimes, ( sara insists, a hand cupping her jaw even if she can't quite see her so her thumb can brush reassuringly against the apple of her cheek. quickly, she adds: ) And I'm not just saying that to make you feel better.
Even with all that, at the end of the day, it doesn't really matter what I think. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, either. You have a right to feel afraid of whatever's in your future, and nobody can stop you from feeling like that, but —
( there's a small frown as she recounts her captain's words and finds herself repeating them: ) Sometimes time wants to happen, and it does. I'm pretty damn sure you'll fight your way through it and be who you're meant to be.
( Leliana can't help but draw back just a little, with the kind words. It's not incredulity that sparks the need to look at Sara, some interrogation done with just a look. No, there's not on that, or the criticism that might come with it, veiled or otherwise. Leliana wants to look at Sara, to see her, because—
Because for all that it boggles her mind that someone can think that of her after what she has said about being a bard, and for all the doubts that these past months have started to make creep upon her with the inevitability of time passing (time, it always seems to be time that they get tangled up in, Sara and she), Leliana believes her.
Her hands draw back, but only so that she can bring them to rest at Sara's shoulder, sliding inward until they rest where neck meets shoulder, fingers gently curling over Sara's skin. )
I believe you.
( First of all, that should be said. Perhaps it could also be said that Leliana is easily persuaded, and that she can be gullible at times in her eagerness to place faith and trust and push away what it is to be a bard, but she does trust Sara. Without hesitation. ) You don't really strike me as the type to skirt the truth.
( Said fondly, though she would be hard pressed to not be fond of Sara, truthfully. It takes a moment, what comes next. A leaning forward, a hesitation, because the beach and all the time that stretched between feels like a hurdle that was not there before. Leliana does not quite kiss Sara— she means to, and moves closer, and there is the undeniable shift before she cuts herself short, still very close but realising the presumption. )
I— would it be alright if I kiss you? If you wanted, I mean, not simply you enduring it for the sake of being fond of me, or— yes.
( sara doesn't move to close the gap between their mouths, just stays still and lets her eyes flutter closed as leliana leans in. it's more important for leliana to ease back into this when she's ready to, for sara not to push things even if the part of her that insists that she reach out and take what she wants at all times — right now, a kiss — needles her. this is, sara thinks, about leliana accepting herself and the fact that others accept her, too.
leliana draws close but then stops short, which causes sara's eyes to blink open immediately; it's vaguely reminiscent of the beach, and sara immediately searches leliana's gaze worriedly. but then she speaks and all sara can do is smile fondly, almost relieved, nose bumping against hers just barely as she murmurs, ) C'mon, kiss me.
( and again, it takes all of her willpower not to just draw leliana's face that little bit closer and steal the damn kiss herself. )
( That makes Leliana smile, bright and relieved, a quiet breath of laughter escaping her as she leans forward, bracing her weight against the sofa so that her hands hold her above Sara and she's moving foward, coming close to outright lying on top of Sara even with them being somewhat upright.
There is a moment of hesitation, born of savouring and anticipation rather than nervousness, before she leans in to close the kiss. Fleeting, at first, the barest brushing of lips. It is lighter even than that first kiss in the forest, when they had held onto each carefully, like fragile things, mapping each other out in the rain.
The memory tugs at her chest, and one of her hands moves to rest cautiously against Sara's ribs and urge her closer. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
what isn't easy, without a doubt, is trying to explain herself. all sara can do is try, even if it means she stumbles a little bit. )
I know what it's like to feel like a danger to the people that I care about. I know what it's like to kill without remorse or even a second thought. ( she takes a breath, to gather her thoughts, maybe. ) We're more alike than you think.
no subject
She has come to realise she is not close with people easily, for exactly the reasons she told Sara. Friendships are easier, but they aren't easy. Charming people is one thing, manipulating them another, but for someone to truly like you simply for you are? To make the acquaintance of those whom understand you well? That is more challenging. Alistair and Zevran are as brothers to her, Kallian and Shale her sisters, Sten a grumpy, grumpy uncle. Wynne— she is not Dorothea, but there is something of the motherly in her. (Morrigan she would have been glad to call sister, but they have ever been too much at odds.) The party she travels with are family, wounded as she finds her self feeling at their hand. )
I know.
( She says it very quietly. ) Not about the killing, ( she clarifies, although very gently. Staying hugging Sara is too easy and too tempting, and so she makes no move to, well, move. ) I knew you and I had certain things in common. Or, at least, that there was something more to you.
( Though Leliana does not draw back, she shifts just slightly, so she can press a kiss to Sara's cheek, her left hand curling at the back of Sara's neck, thumb brushing over her skin. ) I think you're wonderful, no matter what you've done in the past.
( Pots and kettles? Pots and kettles. )
no subject
You need to give yourself the same forgiveness that you give to others, ( she insists as gently as she can, dropping a kiss onto the top of leliana's head and rubbing a hand reassuringly against her back. even sara knows that she's a pot calling the kettle black by trying so hard to instill this within leliana, but sara's working through her own demons, too, trying to accept her past but not to let it tarnish her present.
how could she, when things are as they are in eudio? teammates, friends old and new, her sister. but eudio's provided sara a chance to separate herself from her past, and it offers the same to leliana. )
no subject
( Well. She exhales, and exhales unhappily or maybe just dissatisfied with the words she is using, when she is meant to be better than this. )
I did. I— I thought that joining the Chantry and serving the Maker would change me. And I think it did? I believed I was different.
( And then she came to Eudio, and perhaps that is the painful difference between them. Leliana in her own world had found it easier to have faith in herself and her purpose and everything else, but in Eudio she was presented with the possibility of a future that went against all of that. It echoed Marjolaine's words all too easily. For a moment she is silent, head tucked against Sara, and it might feel slightly ridiculous to be like this when she's taller than Sara, but she opts that it's definitely not. )
Alistair told me once that I frighten him. We were joking around at the time, but... with everything that the others have said, I just keep going over and over what our party have said. Foolish comments made while travelling or around the campfire, or... we see a lot of terrible things. I wondered sometimes if that prompted them to certain words, and even to actions, but that does not mean that I am not a deceiver, or frightening, or simply a graceful killer.
( Her words are spoken softly, but it does not mask the emotion in them, a degree of fear. ) I don't know what to do.
no subject
Even with all that, at the end of the day, it doesn't really matter what I think. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, either. You have a right to feel afraid of whatever's in your future, and nobody can stop you from feeling like that, but —
( there's a small frown as she recounts her captain's words and finds herself repeating them: ) Sometimes time wants to happen, and it does. I'm pretty damn sure you'll fight your way through it and be who you're meant to be.
no subject
Because for all that it boggles her mind that someone can think that of her after what she has said about being a bard, and for all the doubts that these past months have started to make creep upon her with the inevitability of time passing (time, it always seems to be time that they get tangled up in, Sara and she), Leliana believes her.
Her hands draw back, but only so that she can bring them to rest at Sara's shoulder, sliding inward until they rest where neck meets shoulder, fingers gently curling over Sara's skin. )
I believe you.
( First of all, that should be said. Perhaps it could also be said that Leliana is easily persuaded, and that she can be gullible at times in her eagerness to place faith and trust and push away what it is to be a bard, but she does trust Sara. Without hesitation. ) You don't really strike me as the type to skirt the truth.
( Said fondly, though she would be hard pressed to not be fond of Sara, truthfully. It takes a moment, what comes next. A leaning forward, a hesitation, because the beach and all the time that stretched between feels like a hurdle that was not there before. Leliana does not quite kiss Sara— she means to, and moves closer, and there is the undeniable shift before she cuts herself short, still very close but realising the presumption. )
I— would it be alright if I kiss you? If you wanted, I mean, not simply you enduring it for the sake of being fond of me, or— yes.
no subject
leliana draws close but then stops short, which causes sara's eyes to blink open immediately; it's vaguely reminiscent of the beach, and sara immediately searches leliana's gaze worriedly. but then she speaks and all sara can do is smile fondly, almost relieved, nose bumping against hers just barely as she murmurs, ) C'mon, kiss me.
( and again, it takes all of her willpower not to just draw leliana's face that little bit closer and steal the damn kiss herself. )
no subject
There is a moment of hesitation, born of savouring and anticipation rather than nervousness, before she leans in to close the kiss. Fleeting, at first, the barest brushing of lips. It is lighter even than that first kiss in the forest, when they had held onto each carefully, like fragile things, mapping each other out in the rain.
The memory tugs at her chest, and one of her hands moves to rest cautiously against Sara's ribs and urge her closer. )