Chapter Text
Heard muttered at an altar of Andraste in 9:41 Dragon in the Chantry of Kirkwall by a large Qunari:
I do not think I am a religious man. My people’s faith is one I have never known, and that of you and the Maker is too human for my comfort. I feel out of place, leaning in front of your statue while sisters and mothers of your faith stare at me so alien. But- I need guidance. Or counsel, or help, or just someone to listen. Anyone to listen……
[ The next few sentences are jumbled, drowned out by a sister’s hymn as she carries about her chores.]
There is a man named Hanna. And he is something of the stars, I think. Something spectacular.... There is a man named Hanna, and I think he believes in you. So I come to you to tell you he has consumed every waking thought I may have. This… This consumption, this feverish longing- I don’t know what it means. I don’t know what I want it to mean, what I’m allowed to have it mean. We dance, something so steadfast yet clumsy, so very entangled and yet the distance between us is so stark. We dance, but it is around each other. Never with each other. And I… I would do most anything for this man. This Hanna Trevelyan.
If I had stayed in the Qun, I don’t know where I would be. I grew up free, and yet I have never felt so unburdened than that of when he says my name. It’s a terrifying thought, that of not knowing him. That of being apart from him. There is something about him I cannot get enough of, something that leaves my heart aching, my mind yearning- I could be content to spend my days sat at our campfire, watch as the fire washes across his skin and the moonlight weave ribbons in his hair..
[ The next line is unintelligible. The Qunari’s voice has gone quiet, but he seems to be praying harder.]
Andraste, I don’t know if I believe that you may be the Maker’s queen. I don’t know if I believe in the Maker. But I believe in Hanna, and I beg of you only one thing; let Hanna be happy. Please , if there is anyone or anything out there that is listening: Let Hanna Be Happy . I don’t care if I am of that equation, or if the equation is only answered whence I am gone but- whatever the outcome, whatever the lead up, I ask- This is my only plea; Dear Maker, just let him be happy.