Chapter Text
From the journal of Libby White
I know that I am not Andrastian, and while I do not understand Cullen’s devotion to a church that chooses to worship a woman who was burnt to death by burning her effigy on certain holidays, I do know that sitting beneath the window of our circle’s darling little chantry that I am transported to a place of pure contentment.
And I find myself in dire need of the choir’s calming and uplifting hymns. The voices meld and flow and bubble in perfect harmony and unison. Journal, I shall lift you above the bushes so you can better hear.
There.
How did you like that?
Beautiful, isn’t it.
I wish I was different and didn’t find myself agonizing over this, but I find myself unable to see anything beyond two paths for my future. Neither path is even close to ideal. One path is going to certainly lead to me giving up much of my hopes. And my wishes. And my dreams. And oh so many things that I want to just cry and cry and cry .
But just the thought of the possible consequences of the other leaves me with such a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. That I am even considering taking a chance on what I had planned on being my future fills me with shame. How can I even question it?
The possibility of becoming something infamously and atrociously evil and wrong.
Versus the certainty of becoming tragically wretched.
I find it very hard to keep track of my thoughts, my dearest journal. But know this, I have agonized over my decision for weeks, but I feel that I have dithered for too long. This kind of indecision has almost always a mere annoyance. But it has been two months since Barnard. I cannot think of the horror of that evening without nausea. And dread.
I have to push away this feeling because the littles have nightmares and need cuddles and reassurance. And the others do their best to reassure me and yet I know that it is hopeless.
My own nightmares have me waking in the night in a cold sweat.
Perhaps I should speak to Grace or Bennet. They are the tranquil I know best and will offer advice based on what is purely logical.
Or maybe not.
Either way, whatever my decision.
I will do my absolute best to prepare as well as one can prepare, and it is with the dearest love in my heart that I must make this decision. Cullen won’t understand.
Or maybe he will - he cares deeply for us.
- LW
Later
I don’t know how she manages to make me feel ashamed after after our limited interactions. Meredith told me that her own wishful thoughts caused her to continue to see things in a tranquil she knew well as a mage, but that she had to learn to let it go.
But Libby, I did see some of her old self there back in Ferelden. And even now, when she stops pretending to be normal. When she doesn’t behave as she thinks she ought to, there is was is something there.
And I believe she disapproves of me.
And I cannot bear it.
-CR
Even Later
Lady Nightingale,
The tranquil mage Elspeth White is indeed the one you encountered at Kinloch Hold. That your potential Commander has not reneged his duty of care over her is truly admirable and clear evidence that he has a strong sense of responsibility. Further, I believe that it indicates that he has learned from his experiences in Kirkwall in a positive way, and he has not allowed those tragic events to corrupt his purpose.
I hope that this information helps set your mind at ease and you are able to turn your attention wholly to the coming conclave.
May Andraste bless and keep you,
Sister Benedicta