And what happens when it is not your flesh that it is taken out on? What happens if someone decides that they will teach a lesson by destroying something you love, by hurting someone you love? Those are fortunately not common all over in my country but certainly they are common enough in my world and in this one - you learn there are times to speak out and that there are times that you wait, that you listen with every part of you for the opportune moment.
[Zevran could have taught him that and it makes her throat close, voice catching towards the end as she struggles to maintain something light, as though she's only imparting a lesson and not remembering something so terrible. There's teaching and then there's what she witnessed in Antiva, not the sort of thing to be thrown at someone when she can't forget it each time she looks at Zevran or his kestrels.]
Some people make their living selling themselves like this, my mother and many others for instance, and they would be happy to hear such words because that is the path they have chosen. Others choose it because there is no other way to earn the coin to put food on the table, you are perhaps very fortunate not to know what necessity drives a person to do. In places in Thedas I know that a person's life can be bought and sold easily as bread and meat at the market.
[Flesh is flesh after all, especially if it is elven, and if it is pretty, if it is young, it will fetch a very high price and they will likely be told to count themselves lucky to have ever been worth so much even if not a fraction of it will ever enter their hands.]
No one here was offended, believe me if they were truly offended when their names were mentioned then Zevran would have been the first to make apologies. [That she is sure of, he knows what it's like to be valued a certain way after all, far more than she does.] Close up your mouth, open your eyes, unstopper your ears. Listen to the people who have lived the hard lives here and elsewhere, do not judge them by whatever values your home has because it isn't your place to do so, how would you feel if the boot were on the other foot?
[Pretend you wear shoes for five minutes okay, make an attempt.]
no subject
[Zevran could have taught him that and it makes her throat close, voice catching towards the end as she struggles to maintain something light, as though she's only imparting a lesson and not remembering something so terrible. There's teaching and then there's what she witnessed in Antiva, not the sort of thing to be thrown at someone when she can't forget it each time she looks at Zevran or his kestrels.]
Some people make their living selling themselves like this, my mother and many others for instance, and they would be happy to hear such words because that is the path they have chosen. Others choose it because there is no other way to earn the coin to put food on the table, you are perhaps very fortunate not to know what necessity drives a person to do. In places in Thedas I know that a person's life can be bought and sold easily as bread and meat at the market.
[Flesh is flesh after all, especially if it is elven, and if it is pretty, if it is young, it will fetch a very high price and they will likely be told to count themselves lucky to have ever been worth so much even if not a fraction of it will ever enter their hands.]
No one here was offended, believe me if they were truly offended when their names were mentioned then Zevran would have been the first to make apologies. [That she is sure of, he knows what it's like to be valued a certain way after all, far more than she does.] Close up your mouth, open your eyes, unstopper your ears. Listen to the people who have lived the hard lives here and elsewhere, do not judge them by whatever values your home has because it isn't your place to do so, how would you feel if the boot were on the other foot?
[Pretend you wear shoes for five minutes okay, make an attempt.]