[ She cannot blame him for that question, or hurt before it. It is a decent one - as Gwen's before him, even if his is a fair kinder than that one. Why should anyone believe anything you say about yourself? You're here now, the rest doesn't matter anymore.
But the end of that question - it is something she wants to take with both her hands and tear apart that sky herself. They deserve to lose their heads, each and every noble that caused this suffering. The teeth she sets into the inside of her lip enough to sting, the pain to clear her mind, you are not Sita to burn yourself in your rage, no matter how you might desire it. Stiff with the confinement of it all as she so often felt.
Instead, she rises, out of her seat - exactly as he said, she is stiff-backed, shoulders a rolled back line, a soldier true, but more than that no matter how much she might pretend. To that, there is a great deal she is pretending over - and the same way as with Kitty, she is not so much a fool as to want to let anyone else here her thoughts on the matter. So she goes to the door, swinging it shut. Providing them as much privacy as they could have anywhere in the gallows. Locks it, for good measure, before she comes back to sit across from him once more. To keep her face on his and refuse to look away. ]
Look at me - [ because she will have his eyes as she had given them so far, and she will have them like she means to hold a soul in her hands, as pure as that was, as tremendous surely, to ever ask someone to give that. With much tender fear and want as all that could be. She will fix to them like she means to make them her own. Without question and forward. The things she keeps back, the things she lets him have, now. Neither charming, nor eloquent, but herself, offered willingly. ] I am Maharani Lakshmibai, those names mean nothing to you, but to my people, they were a promise I made on my wedding day when I took that name. For Lakshmi, Mahalakshmi, is the Goddess of Wealth, Luck and Prosperity for my people. I swore my devotion to serving all those that came to me. That I may be their Lakshmi, that all they must do is ask it of me, and I would gladly give it to them. That when they needed protection, I would be their Kali and remove their suffering, when they needed raising up, I would be Saraswati to guide them to better themselves. That I would always, be theirs.
[ All that she is, all that she has been, and how much none of it had changed. How odd a thing that was. ] I would dishonour the lives of the people who gave themselves to my service, to treat those here as anything less than my own when they come to me. That is what it means to be Rani, to me. I was not born to that title, and I did not keep it through anything less than their love. If it means anything to me, it means that. Their hurt is my hurt, their pain is my pain, and I will be all that must for them. Poor or otherwise.
[ As fervent as prayers, she means it utterly and even that is not enough - she supposes she has only that to give, and her actions.
- And what she knows of others. ] I do not give a fuck what the Carta says, Orlais says, what Fereldon says, or even the revered Mother in the Chantry when they would as readily call me demon and see me strung up for even speaking of my own Gods. I might do much, accomplish everything I could ever hope and be as you say, with as much stake as anyone, but do not ask me to be naive and not expect the knife in my back for what I am when it becomes inconvenient or when the Inquisition cannot protect me. I have lost... too much, to ever forget those lessons.
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But the end of that question - it is something she wants to take with both her hands and tear apart that sky herself. They deserve to lose their heads, each and every noble that caused this suffering. The teeth she sets into the inside of her lip enough to sting, the pain to clear her mind, you are not Sita to burn yourself in your rage, no matter how you might desire it. Stiff with the confinement of it all as she so often felt.
Instead, she rises, out of her seat - exactly as he said, she is stiff-backed, shoulders a rolled back line, a soldier true, but more than that no matter how much she might pretend. To that, there is a great deal she is pretending over - and the same way as with Kitty, she is not so much a fool as to want to let anyone else here her thoughts on the matter. So she goes to the door, swinging it shut. Providing them as much privacy as they could have anywhere in the gallows. Locks it, for good measure, before she comes back to sit across from him once more. To keep her face on his and refuse to look away. ]
Look at me - [ because she will have his eyes as she had given them so far, and she will have them like she means to hold a soul in her hands, as pure as that was, as tremendous surely, to ever ask someone to give that. With much tender fear and want as all that could be. She will fix to them like she means to make them her own. Without question and forward. The things she keeps back, the things she lets him have, now. Neither charming, nor eloquent, but herself, offered willingly. ] I am Maharani Lakshmibai, those names mean nothing to you, but to my people, they were a promise I made on my wedding day when I took that name. For Lakshmi, Mahalakshmi, is the Goddess of Wealth, Luck and Prosperity for my people. I swore my devotion to serving all those that came to me. That I may be their Lakshmi, that all they must do is ask it of me, and I would gladly give it to them. That when they needed protection, I would be their Kali and remove their suffering, when they needed raising up, I would be Saraswati to guide them to better themselves. That I would always, be theirs.
[ All that she is, all that she has been, and how much none of it had changed. How odd a thing that was. ] I would dishonour the lives of the people who gave themselves to my service, to treat those here as anything less than my own when they come to me. That is what it means to be Rani, to me. I was not born to that title, and I did not keep it through anything less than their love. If it means anything to me, it means that. Their hurt is my hurt, their pain is my pain, and I will be all that must for them. Poor or otherwise.
[ As fervent as prayers, she means it utterly and even that is not enough - she supposes she has only that to give, and her actions.
- And what she knows of others. ] I do not give a fuck what the Carta says, Orlais says, what Fereldon says, or even the revered Mother in the Chantry when they would as readily call me demon and see me strung up for even speaking of my own Gods. I might do much, accomplish everything I could ever hope and be as you say, with as much stake as anyone, but do not ask me to be naive and not expect the knife in my back for what I am when it becomes inconvenient or when the Inquisition cannot protect me. I have lost... too much, to ever forget those lessons.