heorte: (rm00240 (2))
ellis ginsberg. ([personal profile] heorte) wrote in [personal profile] heirring 2022-05-31 05:18 am (UTC)

Once said, Ellis can never reclaim the words. He knows this.

But there is an inevitability to it all the same. Someday, he will say this thing aloud. He has divulged the thing in so many other ways. His own body betrays him in this. Perhaps she already knows the shape of it, has put name to it and is kindly allowing him the space to pretend he hasn't been rendered so transparent.

Ellis hopes otherwise, but it is impossible to know.

"There are Wardens who dance," he answers. "I imagine there are parties, where they'd do so. I was never one for them."

Then he came to Kirkwall, where enough shifted to make that statement not quite true anymore.

And times have changed among the Wardens regardless. If there was ever dancing in Weisshaupt Fortress, they're well past it.

By the end of the day, there will be some ink spattered here, he knows. His thumb moves along the edge of her knuckles, where a quill may rest at some point. It is still early, though Kirkwall stirs further to full consciousness with every passing moment.

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