#no eternity for them or anything! just boom. water. you cease to exist. the sea is literally where you're going

[zaritarazi]

enough of the grace granted to fence-sitting jews, to the jews that are too scared to stand up to their mommies and daddies about palestine, so they come online and tone police. i am humbled by the grace nonjews have shown these jews. as a jew that has never been a zionist, who has no zionist family, and who grew up around many other anti-zionist jews, you have been far kinder to these genocide-abetters than i ever could be. and so as a jew, i see your grace, and i personally respect you and your commitment to equal and social justice.

but you don't owe these cowards a fucking thing. when they come on and say "this is a dogwhistle but this is a legitimate palestinian charity" ignore them. they can get with the right side of history, or they can stay with their congregation. you aren't required to hear them out. you don't owe them a single thing.

these spineless cucks will decry nonjews tokenizing anti-zionist jews to say "antisemitic" things, and then those antisemitic things are literally... things that the iof is currently doing. on video. daily. so tokenize me all you'd like. i have lots of other antizionist jewish friends i grew up with- we're all white jews, tokenize them, too. until palestine is free, until those cowards remember who their fucking G-d is, don't waste your time on them. from the river to the sea.

[herald-divine-hell]

A Foolish Notion

Summary: Alexandra almost gets into a duel, and Leliana is having enough of it. 

Words: 2,083.

Tags: Angst, Fluff

Jaw tightening, Leliana narrowed her eyes at the sight before her, urging down with cold strength the desire to rage. Light spewed down from the windows, long-length and wide, blushing the stone a softer grayish-white. Wind rattled against the sealed windows, a gentle tap that echoed in the stillness of the war room. Shrill cries groaned distantly behind the barrier of stone walls, but she could still hear the mournful whimpers of the Frostbacks; promises of pain and memories long passed and to soon occur. 

But the pain now bubbled beneath her own being, forming at the center a fire of worry, outrage, and fear. It hurt more seeing the long, jagged lash sprawling from the underside of Alexandra’s jaw down her neck, and running further beneath the high-necked suit. The golden embroidery burnt bright by faint touches of sunlight, shimmering as if it was golden clouds streaking across a sea of darkness. The military uniform fit the Free Marcher more than well enough - with its emphasis to highlight the curve of her hips, the slimness of her waist, the fullness of her bust, and yet it contained still all the influence of a near-omnipotent force, unchallenged and domineering. Alexandra was a beautiful woman, there was no doubt there, either. Her long locks of black fell in a thick mane of curls, flowing down to the small of her back. Strands fell and were stark-contrasted by the green-gold of her eyes, long tendrils seeping into one another, seemingly blending and swirling. More often than not, a tiny smile formed at the corner of her lips; but there was none formed there now, only a line that was distant, almost apathetic. Even the flames burning within those eyes of gold and green were harsh and cold; it was not the sensuous glaze of a visionary, but the clear watchful and understanding of an experienced general—one who’s wraith had been tested.

“Don’t stare at me like that, Alexandra. You know what you did, and the riskiness it could have put you and the Inquisition in.” Leliana despised the strident tone that her voice held, but she was in no position to relent against it. Alexandra needed to hear it, to understand the idiocy that she nearly drew herself into. An idiocy that nearly had gotten her killed. “Why did you do it?” 

The fire which burned in Alexandra’s eyes was terrible to behold. The woman was too stubborn for her own good, most times—too arrogant to believe that she could be in the wrong when it concerned her own safety. Leliana wished she knew what the woman was thinking. At times like these, the Inquisitor’s thoughts were as understandable as a marble statue. She hated her for that; and she hated how she wanted to draw Alexandra into her arms. Those eyes could burn entire mountains into nothing but molten pools of flames, yet they sent a shiver up Leliana’s back all the same. At last, the Inquisitor finally spoke. “It was my duty, Leliana.” Her melodious voice was stern and hard, a tone filled with authority and power unquestioned. 

Leliana’s own voice tightened and grew frosty on its own. “Your duty is to lead the Inquisition—to remain alive.” And stay with me. Alexandra had promised she would stay with her, now and forever, and Leliana believed her to be a woman of her word. Maker, she trusted her more than anything else in the world. Alexandra had to stay alive. She just had to. I won’t lose her, too. Turning to Cullen and Josephine, both who looked abashed and red-faced. “Leave us, please. I will talk sense into her,” said Leliana, making sure there was no room left for arguments or discussion. Especially from Cullen. 

Surprisingly, and kindly, the two other advisors nodded and departed without any word, though Josephine gave her look of reassurance...and sympathy. Their steps echoed into the silence of the hall, the pressure thickening each boom, growing as the two opened the door and sealed it shut with a louder bang, like bouts of thunder. 

Suddenly, the War Room seemed far larger than it had been before, as if Leliana was little more than a speck in the world’s vastness. The expanded hall where it loomed behind Alexandra, with the large bronze doors, strapped with bronze and iron hinges, glimmered pale beneath the whitish-golden light. The shadows lengthened and spread across the pale gray stone floor, whirling about like black tree-limbs. 

Leliana returned her gaze back to Alexandra, which seemed to not have lifted from her face since the silence overtook the chamber. Tightening her jaw, Leliana straightened her shoulders and pulled herself to her tallest height. She would not be turned into some foolish, mushy mess, merely because she loved Alexandra. She grasped at the facade of Spymaster and Left Hand, lifted up, and pulled it over her features, a skin so old and familiar that it almost seemed second nature; but how long since she had last truly worn this face? The face that had sentenced so many to death to protect Justinia? Too long, she thought, graciously. Too long because of the woman who leaned against the war table with palms pressed against the reddish-brown wood, eyes trained on to Leliana, only interrupted by a flicker of a blink. Because of that woman she loved more than her own life, who had brought light and color back into her life, when all was shrouded in gray and black and sorrow and misery. And to think she could have lost her again...No, she would remain hard for the time being. Alexandra will listen to her. “You better have a good enough reason to go throw yourself in danger like that—unprovoked and unnecessary, need I remind you.” She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned on her left leg, waiting. 

For a while, Alexandra did little more than blink and stare. Her eyes were calculating sun-twined green flames, controlled and yet raging. Only the snapping cold wind against the windows were the only sounds to fill the war room, alongside the chirping torches that were little with amber flames, thin wisps of pale gray smoke flowing up toward the high ceiling. At last, Alexandra spoke, though she never lifted herself from the table. “It was provoked, Leliana. My honor had been on the line. The Inquisition’s honor had been on the line.” A growl escaped from those lovely lips, a marring change to the sweet words that often flowed from her mouth, like a river struck with a stone to leave its water running sporadically compared to the smooth swiftness it would have usually flowed.  “What would you have me do? Allow it to be smeared and buried in the mud?”

“Josephine would have handled it.” Leliana met the fierceness and fire of Alexandra’s voice with her own coldness. Narrowing her eyes, Leliana clenched and uncleaned her jaw, and pushed down the urge to scream. How could she not have seen the foolishness of it all? “And he was a mere corporal within the Inquisition’s army; our own soldier, Alexandra! You are the Inquisitor. If you would have wished so, you could have dismissed him from his position!” 

Alexandra flung herself off the table, the fire within her eyes blazing bright. The flames spun about the torches also erupted, shooting long flaming lances toward the ceiling. And the air felt colder, thinner, as if Leliana stood at the peak of a mountain. The wind’s rattle grew harder, fiercer, like claws scraping a shriek across the clear surface. “His second was able to negotiate with Fendarn. I did not get hurt, and my honor is intact.” Her eyes flowed close, and she whispered in a voice that Leliana could barely register. “My honor is still intact…” 

Maker, why did she have to look so vulnerable now? It was harder to cling to the coldness when Alexandra looked half-folded into herself, shoulders drawn inward, as if seeking to hide her. Leliana wanted to draw that foolish girl into her arms, and to whisper that she was right. She was still here with her. Instead, Leliana asked, “Why do you care so much so about honor?” In stories, honor had enshrined heroes, but Leliana was old enough, wiser enough, to separate stories from reality. Once, she had not, and that had caused her more pain than she had ever so desired to feel again. She swallowed, pain slicing through her heart, seizing it with sorrowful pain. “Is it worth more than me?” And it was her turn to close her eyes, to contain and pull back the tears that threatened to escape.

The warmth and coldness that had filled the room like air snapped away, and the roaring of flames died down sudden and quick, like light flashing out from existence. Even the wind had ceased it knocking. “More than you? Maker, no, Leliana.” Light footsteps, swift and few, filled the air as she felt hands, cool and warm all at onces, and so, so smooth, but with a hint of callous, cup her cheeks delicately. “Please, Leliana, look at me.”

She had not realized that she had failed to keep back the tears. Warmth wetness flowed down her cheeks in tendrils, and Leliana could feel Alexandra’s thumb drying and drawing circles over them. Opening her eyes slowly, Leliana had to bite back a cry. Alexandra’s eyes were wide, searching, and shrouded in worry. The gold within her eyes had mellowed, growing softer, a gentle glow filling and brightening them. Now they looked like a sheen of light over a calm emerald sea. Leliana could stare within those eyes for eternity, if she could. 

“I love you so much. Not even words could pen them down upon parchment, though I have often tried.” 

Leliana raised her own hands up and pressed them against those cheeks, rolling the pads of her thumb across the straight sharpness of her cheekbones. “Why, then? Why put yourself in so much danger?”

Guilt plagued those eyes, and Leliana was filled with unmeasurable sorrow at that. If there was anything more Leliana had hated to see Alexandra’s eyes, it was guilt. It was a sight that was growing too common and accustomed to, for her liking. “Because honor is all I have, Leliana. Nobility I may be, I am still a mage. And though the mages have won their freedom, perhaps in the eyes of most, I am still legally not allowed to inherit any land that my father could bestow upon me. I have nothing else, save my honor. Nothing else, before I had met you.” She laughed, and it was bitter, self-loathing. “I am a bigger fool than Maferath.” 

“You are a fool, Alexandra Trevelyan.” Leliana could not stop herself from laughing and taking in the refreshing glint of confusion within her beloved’s eyes. “But you are my fool.” A leather-gloved hand flowed away from a cheek to entangle themselves within the thick locks of Alexandra’s hair. “And I would fight demon and darkspawn, man and god, to have you in my arms every morning and to keep your smile forever alive.”

Tugging at her head gently, Leliana tilted her head back and captured those lips she so adored with her own, and kissed her heatedly and lovingly. Leliana took in everything: the feel of Alexandra’s body pressed against hers, the softness and plumpness of that talented mouth, and the sweet scent of vanilla and something else she could not quite name fill her senses. 

A grunt passed through Alexandra’s lips against Leliana’s. The edge of the war table. A wicked thought came to mind, and her grin grew into the kiss. I’ll be sure to remind her what she would be missing if she dare even think about going off to do something as foolish as a duel again. And Leliana had not been jesting when she had said she would fight gods and demons to be with this foolish Free Marcher. But a part of her knew that Alexandra would have done the same for her. Well, let us be sure that neither of us gets into something as tangible and foolish as death. Though, knowing the both of them, Leliana doubted it.

But she made a promise, and it was a promise she would keep, until the sun bled away into ash and the world turned shattered and broken, Leliana would hold onto that promise, as hard as she could.