Feyran Lavellan

Exactly.

[He sighed]

Enough of this. You just had a great burdened carved from you. Revel in that.

Don't.

[His voice is suddenly harsh, but none of the venom is directed at her]

If it was me. If I had been taken and you could do nothing but sit and wait for me to come back.

If you carved infection out of me, and then I told you I owed you ..

Of course.

[He took the corrupted eyes, nose crinkling as he wrapped them up in cloth and shoved them in his pocket to deal with later]

[Then he dedicated himself to steadying his Hyur, putting an arm around her waist]

You can enjoy a bath while I do so.

Maybe if you weren't denser than a fruitcake.

Or what is it, that Thancred calls you...

Yes.

However I am not going to even attempt to carry you.

hello

Beasts seek their own.

[He whispers in her ear]

Even the most bloodthirsty predators will lick clean the wounds of their chosen companions.

I will never leave you to suffer needlessly.

>> unbreakable. They covet your strength and seek to take it, to control it, but no one wields you but yourself.

He is *nothing*.

And you are everything he could never be, and more.

>> Just as strong as I knew you would be. There is nothing left, now. It's all over.

No one can reduce you to that again. They may gain an edge on you for a moment, temporarily lock you down, but there are no chains you can't break, no wound that won't heal.

You are exquisite.

You are >>

Good. Very good.

Lay back. The ground is soft and the grass is long. The sunlight will reach you here.

[He sets the eyes aside and lays her back slowly - his hands and body keep in contact with her as he lays on his side next to her, carefully running his fingers through her hair]

All over. >>

>> cradling the removed 'infections' in his palm]

All done. [his voice is _almost_ soft. Almost.]

How long will it take to heal? Should we bandage it?

>> act of defiance, I went out and finally got my first tattoo.

One rose, prominently displayed on my right hand. I'd rewarded myself and boasted of what I'd done without having to say a word.

The guild masters didn't care much for me, if you can believe it...

[he finally put the knife down, >>

>> punished any 'incidents' like that. Murder is bad for business, leaves a trail...so even though I had covered my tracks, I was reprimanded and punished for it in front of everyone.

I didn't particularly care for that...I was proud of myself. I'd saved the job and left no trace.

So in a sort of>

>> in thinking of himself as a main character]

[Even when he finally got to the part where he talked about his tattoos - the crew's first botched burglary] And that was my first kill. Quick, clean, and no one suspected he'd done more than run away with some maid.

On principal the guild strongly >>

>> different, and each one fascinating to even imagine in a criminal hive]

[Feyran never painted himself as the hero of any of these stories, but more of a side character getting to witness their various successes and failures]

[For someone with an ego of his size, he never seemed very interested>

>> me greatly, especially at that young age, when I hadn't seen much of anything outside the forest and the occasional streets of Ishgard...

[he weaves a very simple, easy to follow tale - he describes the various characters he interacted with in his early days of crime. All of them wildly >>

[He keeps his voice calm and soothing, almost musical, as he begins his bloody work]

It started the day I joined a Thieves' Guild.

I was quick to notice how many of my new co-workers had some sort of markings on them, scars or tattoos.

Personally I hate scars, but the idea of tattoos intrigued >>

>> hand, holding her face gently]

I'm going to tell you the story about how I got my tattoos.

Just the eyes? Nothing else?

[he had been able to see the difference when she returned, but he'd said nothing about it. She likely already knew, and having it pointed out would not have helped]

[he flips the knife around in his hand and kneels, sitting almost in her lap]

[he took her chin in his>

>> usual places she goes for foraging, somewhere she's unlikely to come across on accident]

Here. Sit down on the ground. Don't worry about your clothes. I'll wash them after.

Tell me everything he replaced on you.

Then let's go.

[unusually for him, he puts a hand on her shoulder to steer her towards the door - his touch is feather light, just barely enough contact to not be confused for a hallucination]

[his gaze is focused as they walk outside - he takes them a fair distance from her sanctuary, off the >>

[he already had his knife drawn, like he anticipated this request]

Let's go somewhere besides the kitchen.

Nothing bad happens to you in the kitchen. We'll keep it that way.

We'll go out in nature. Unless you have a preference for somewhere else.

[he leaned against the counter next to her]

Then let's get rid of them.

Stop making soup.

We can fix this.

What did he do to you, and how can I make him suffer for it.

Olwen.

Mm.

Thank you for cool knife.

... Olwen.

It's not you that I'm upset with.

I'm not going to clarify, because frankly it's no one's business. But you deserve to know that much.

[his glare shifted to observe the offering, and then reluctantly smoothed away into an expression that was just more. Tired.]

[He sighed, rubbing at his forehead]

Thank you.

no idea

[his jaw shifts]

Mind your business, Olwen.