faderift | [OPEN] So Much Is At Stake

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[OPEN] So Much Is At Stake

WHO: Character(s) Vivienne and OPEN
WHAT: Catchall leading up to Orlais happenings
WHEN: Beginning of the month up until Orlais event starts
WHERE: Skyhold (early) / Val Royeaux (one week before event start)
NOTES: Open to all. Val Royeaux segment is a shopping trip en route to Halamshiral (which is available for 'guests' to tag around with each other.) Prose or brackets is fine, I'll tag to match.

Early Solace
Courtyard
Even with whispers about ongoing strife in Orlais, little notes and letters finding Madame de Fer's hand confirming as much, she remains in Skyhold for the time being. Her business is much as it has been. No small part of her day is spent working with the younger mages present in the Fortress. With no Circle to provide these youngsters with solid training, they find themselves trouble in trying to alleviate their boredom. The best solution she's found is to take an active role in not only learning their names and personal quirks, but genuinely trying to seek out responsible mages to serve as mentors to guide them. Much of her time is spent finding suitable adults willing and able to work with their younger members.

Balcony
Not quite as many new mages are joining the Inquisition as there were in the early days. Those who do are often either Rifters, or rebels who didn't follow Fiona to Redcliffe, for good or ill. Regardless of affiliation, Vivienne attempts to stay apprised to the numbers of the magically gifted present in Skyhold. It's especially important that she does so now, as the recently appointed mage liaison. For her part, she tries to remain as available to find on her balcony as she may. When a new name is brought to her attention, an invitation is sent out to join her for tea where she holds court from her chaise lounge.

Anyone passing through the Main Hall of a late night might find her still awake upstairs and intent on an alchemy project.

Gardens
Any morning following a late night dabble with alchemy will find the Iron Lady strolling through the Skyhold Gardens. She examines the plants as she passes through, calm as always, though sometimes a thoughtful hum gives away her extra consideration of something she sees.

---

Val Royeaux
Convinced now that the Inquisition will be making a move into Orlais in short order, Vivienne's routine alters. She decides that a little detour en route for shopping is absolutely demanded. Nevermind that the capital is actually beyond where they will be traveling, or that it seems perhaps frivolous to be indulging in retail therapy when there are far more serious matters to attend to. She, of course, insists that if they are to deal with Orlesians, those agents should at the very least look presentable as such. ~~No, plaidweave is unacceptable. Find something else.~~ Shopping is happening. They've plenty of time to conclude their business and meet with the intended encampment at Halamshiral.

She doesn't travel to the capital alone, however. There are a number of people she's invited to join her for the excursion. Not all of them are particularly pleased to be present, but somehow the Iron Lady's gotten her way. Not that blackmail was involved in any way, that's far too cheap to someone who revels in playing the Game. However, her bullying victims might perhaps feel otherwise. She's arranged lodging for them all at Bastien's townhouse, though the Duke is not in residence at present. Playing hostess is quite fun for her, thus Vivienne will point out the best shops, the tastiest pastries, and of course the most ideal restaurants to see and be seen.

Her own personal shopping involves inspecting a golden pig, which she decides firmly against, browsing fabrics, pretty jewelry pieces, careful inspection of practically every bookseller she can locate, and much time inquiring with the local herbalists.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Since she's in way over her head here, Ellana quickly moves to Araceli's side, noting the list in her hand.

"Would it be all right if I walk with you awhile?" she asks, her nervousness apparent. "I'm not sure how I'm supposed to act in a place like this. I feel no matter what I do, it will be wrong, but you're always so confident. Maybe it will rub off on me."

Smiling, Araceli moves to link their arms together since it's been far too long since she's done anything like this - not every part of life at home was racing around rooftops or gambling or mischief at the docks, or the parts of her life Ellana knows of after all.

"Of course, it feels like forever since I last saw you," she replies, exaggerating a little since Inquisition work tends to keep everyone busy. "I think sometimes my mother despaired at me having a captain's swagger so early in life but it carried me through quite well, well enough to get me through whenever someone tried to use who I am and what I am to hurt me. If a single one of them even breathes at you wrong, they'll be going home minus their coinpurse, I assure you."

She would offer to duel them but the Inquisition would probably not take too kindly to Araceli duelling every Orlesian in Orlais in some sort of battle royale taking on all challengers. How would she get any work done?

Briefly, Ellana's hand touches her side, remembering how the last they had really been around each other had been during their mission to the Western Approach. That was where Ellana was gravely injured, struck in the side by a demon's claws. It's put her life into a much clearer perspective since then, but she still worries that something will go wrong here. She'll be the elf who caused an "incident" that turned Orlais against the Inquisition. And not because she thinks herself so very important, but because Orlesians will take offense to anything.

"I wish I could act like that," she says, her accompanying sigh a bit dreamy. "Not necessarily the lifting of purses -- I would be terrible at that -- but that captain's swagger. It would... be good to not feel things so much. To not hurt so much, I suppose."

Despite how much she enjoyed parts of her trip to the Western Approach - hunting some of the wild animals she found when she went searching for an oasis or two, running over the sands in her antaam-saar, and finally getting to close a rift with Martel - she lost Korrin for those terrible days along with other friends. Finding her out on the sands after the days without sleep? It's something she doesn't want to think about if she can help it. So Araceli's hand finds Ellana's touching very lightly over where she was wounded. Ellana is still here, just like Korrin is still here, that's what matters.

It's what Ellana says though that makes her stop for a moment, smiling but with a little tightness at her eyes, in her jaw. "Oh we feel. My people feel everything, we are a passionate people just as the sea is, our tempers can run so hot and outsiders can find our ways strange, and even in our own country...I feel everything. When I teach people to climb, I teach them to fall first, and to not tense because when they do that, they hurt themselves. If you stay soft, you don't break bones. You have bruises but a bruise heals quicker. It's why the first thing a man will do is call me a whore because I sleep with whomever I choose to, or because my mother is a whore, or my father is a pirate, or all of those. People want to hurt you to make you feel small so they feel big, and powerful, and in control. Nobles do it to commoners, and well, I am as common as it gets too."

But, because this is meant to be fun, because she's with a friend and the world isn't in peril right at this moment she finds her smile again. "I find the best way to annoy them is to thumb my nose at them is to swagger past them, and to dress better than them, hence the list."

Ellana worries her lower lip a moment, realizing she's made an assumption that she shouldn't have. She'd meant it in a positive way, but... oh well. It seems she never understands things the way they're meant to be. Yet another example of the clan's poor education.

"Sorry," she mumbles, looking down at the list. "What are you buying?"

"We're from different worlds - Ellana, I didn't even know about elves until I fell through a rift. Magic was in stories but elves?" She shakes her head, smiling kindly because Ellana always seems to take these things to her heart, but if she keeps speaking about it now then they won't move past it so she leans her head on her to show she's not upset, then brandishes the list. "Well, I'm going away to Rivain for a little while so I thought I should make Korrin's last night with me as memorable as I could. And that means a corset. A very good corset, with very stiff boning."

Naturally Araceli does indeed manage to say that with a perfectly straight face but there's a little bit of bouncing as she leads the way to the shop in question, named the Liaison Dissension.

"Rivain?" she asks, voice sounding faraway at the thought of that distant place she only knows from stories. Fate once said there were Dalish elves there working on a permanent settlement: something she's always wanted for her own clan and all clans, really. A place to settle down and be safe. She hopes it's been coming along nicely for them, but she won't be so naive as to think they haven't faced obstacles too.

"Will you tell me what it's like when you're there?" It almost seems like this topic has overtaken anything else Araceli just said, but then Ellana's eyes dart down to her friend's chest and then quickly away. "I'm sure she'll never forget it." There's an edge of amusement to her voice. Araceli's been blessed by some deity with a chest that just keeps going. The moon, perhaps? Didn't she say that her people revere the moon?

"Sister Nightingale said that I might enjoy the tales from there when I wrote to her of one of my own but there isn't much about Rivain over here." Araceli isn't surprised by that since it's different the way Castileos is different to other places, and she's always believed that experiencing a culture is the only true way to get to know it.

"Of course! I'll send messages when I'm not studying, I wish more of us could have gone but there isn't Inquisition business there, not like the last trip I took to Antiva." Even if she's likely to beat the letters back to Skyhold, she'll write too since it's an open secret that she writes letters to her loved ones at home she can never deliver. "You should've seen her face at the soiree when I did this." Araceli might not be wearing the same sort of dress and corset but the sea and the moon were very generous when doling out her bust and when she brings her elbows together, leaning forward, the effect is definitely striking even in her guard uniform and shirt, the highest button just about holding on.

"I will of course need the expert opinion of a trusted and dear friend, if you don't mind?"

Ellana lifts a hand to her cheek as she blushes red. They're just so... big. And deep down there's a part of her that wishes she had more. Felix hasn't seen her unclothed yet, but she wonders what he'll think. Elven bodies are usually more lithe, with little fat -- especially for Dalish elves who grew up without an abundance of food. She resembles a stick more than an hourglass, and she knows that while Felix is accepting of all of her, that she probably looks very different from the human woman he'd once been with.

"I-- I can-- yes. Umm." What are words? How does one use? "Sorry. I can tell you what I think, but I'm sure no matter what you wear, they'll look lovely."

Unable to help herself, she grins even brighter as she adjusts her shirt again so she won't actually lose the button. Perhaps it would sound trite to say it when she looks the way she does and when she's with Korrin who in addition to her stature, also happens to be blessed in the bust department but personality and spirit and heart have mattered more. A pretty face catches the eye but Araceli learned long ago never to involve herself with people she wouldn't call a friend.

"Well Korrin told me that titsicles were an Orlesian trend here, money cannot always buy good sense or taste." A sad fact she's seen too many times at parties where she's had to bite the inside of her cheek bloody. The bell rings when she opens the shop door, ushering Ellana inside first because she's polite, a bored looking young woman in a mask behind the counter glancing up at the sight of them. "Are you thinking of getting something to scandalise your fancy man so he never forgets how lucky he is?"

"Scandalize? Oh, no no," Ellana says quickly, her face staying in its flushed state. "I don't think I could wear anything like that. Those sort of things aren't made for someone that, well, that can't look right in them. You know?" They're made for women with curves; all soft flesh that can be put on display, not someone with her bones sticking out and nothing to grab onto.

"But I'd be happy to help you. I can't think of any color that wouldn't look perfect against your skin, so I'll need to help you narrow it down."

"Corsets are for everyone, I have plenty to work with, I know that but they pull the waist in and they adjust the figure, and you can have them work with whatever other garments you're wearing to give any sort of illusion you like. Get them fitted properly and you'll be amazed at just how different you'll look. Do you think even half the noble ladies have the figures they have?" Leaning closer even though she's talking about noble ladies from home, not from Orlais, she confides her next words in Ellana's ear. "Believe me, get them out of their dresses and you find a very different woman in your bed."

Not that she's ever disappointed but they sometimes brace themselves for it.

"I like blues, silvery accents - things that remind me of the sea. Greens too, kelps more than the forest, Korrin tends to wear a lot of red so it's a nice contrast I think. Back home I have one that's covered in pearls but alas, I still don't have the coin for that here."

It's never occurred to Ellana that the corsets changed the look of those women. She always assumed the garment just accentuated what was already there.

And if Araceli is trying to get Ellana's face to stay brick red, she's doing an awfully good job of it. It feels like all of her careful training to hide her emotions has flown out the window.

"I've seen the sea," she says, though she's sure she's told Araceli that already. "I think I can remember it enough to tell what reminds me of it here." Though she's not sure the woman working here will even acknowledge her, so she'll just bypass her and speak straight to her friend instead.

There are so many bosoms out there Ellana that are constructed of lies. Same with the waistlines. And the hips. And the backsides. Just lies, good tailoring, and damn good seamstresses or tailors working their fingers to the bone, hopefully being paid well for their work.

Taking pity on Ellana, she smiles and allows a younger woman to take her coat from her when she appears, handing over her measurements so she can help search before she rejoins her again as she peruses the fabrics, running her fingers over them.

"If Korrin damages any of these she's going to have to pay for them," she mutters, more to herself than to Ellana but she knows the Vashoth mage well enough to guess what she must be like before she spots something that catches her attention, holding it against herself. "What do you think?"

Ellana's eyes widen and she nods enthusiastically. "It's beautiful," she breathes out. "Look how the fabric shines." She reaches out in order to feel how soft it is when a gasp comes from elsewhere in the shop and she sees one of the workers staring at her, a hand pressed dramatically to her chest. Her immediate thought is to tuck her hands behind her back like some naughty child, and she hates that that is how she reacts. It makes her wonder if that's how city elves react while living here. She's Dalish, and yet she doesn't know where her elven pride has scampered off to. This feels like some sort of test that she's going to fail either way, and a surge of something powerful rushes through her as she maintains eye contact with the woman and reaches out to slide her dirty little elf hand across the fabric.

Turning slowly and carefully to face the worker in question, there's a look in Araceli's eyes that dares them to make a comment; she has coin to spend that she can spend elsewhere, and when Araceli speaks to so very many people in the Herald's Rest who in turn speak to so many others, how quickly would it spread if she was dissatisfied with the service she received? If she was disgusted by how her dear friend was treated? Smiling at Ellana, she clears her throat and beckons one of them over to see just how far she can push them.

When she's a bard, she'll be able to ruin people the way she does at home, and she can't stand how the elves are treated in Thedas, when it makes her sick to her stomach and so angry she could spit nails.

"Excuse me, I would like to try this on? If you would be so kind?" And because Araceli only has one pair of hands, she hands the garment to Ellana as she removes her coat to set it down so she can unbutton her coat, smiling a serene smile at the woman approaching them.

Ellana takes the fabric with a smile, brushing thumbs over it. Such finery was rare in the clan, though that didn't mean they never had anything soft to wear. Furs were soft and some fabrics too. But this is a silky softness, and she imagines if she had something like this to wear that she'd never stop running her hands down it.

"It would look nice with anything," she says, imagining different shades against it.

"All the beautiful things I left back home," Araceli sighs, the assistant arriving with a screen to protect Araceli's modesty while she changes (or theirs since this is Araceli, the body isn't a shameful thing in her mind) out of her shirt and underwear, piling her hair loosely atop her head out of the way. "You know where Korrin will say it looks nicest though, don't you?"

The assistant looks intrigued, despite herself, holding out her hand for the corset as she waits behind Araceli, mouth pursed as she tries not to smile.

"She's going to say it looks wonderful on me but best on our bedroom floor," Araceli confides with a wink, and the assistant's cheeks go bright pink where her mask doesn't cover them, suddenly very busy with laces and fabric. "You should find something in green though, with gold accents. Or ivory silk with amber detailing if you can find it, I'll count how many jaws and glasses drop wherever you go in it."

Ellana hands over the corset, also curious at what Korrin would say. And then she blushes pink, a slow smile spreading across her face.

"Of course. I should have known." And since she has no laces to do up like the assistant, she's left lacing her own fingers together awkwardly.

"Oh, I don't know that I should buy anything. All my clothes are practical." Except her soiree dress, which she still treasures.

"Everyone--"

Araceli huffs out a deep breath, eyes wide, mouth falling slack because the first moment when a brand new corset is cinched is always the most unpleasant of moments (there will be lines on her skin later, a little phantom corset to rub away for the rest of the day here) and her voice is slightly strained.

"Everyone needs impractical things. Pretty things. Things to make them feel special when there are awful days so you can have a long bath and do your hair, your make up, dress up even in your own room just to feel wonderful and beautiful. Not that you need that but sometimes it's about the act. Taking all that time to yourself. Spoiling yourself. It feels illicit." Allegedly. Not to Araceli who has absolutely no shame when it comes to spoiling her friends or her loved ones but there are so many people she knows who have a hard time trying to justify it.

Ellana isn't too sure she wants to wear something that makes it hard to breath, judging from Araceli's reaction. She worries her lower lip as her friend continues speaking, and while she can see what she's saying, she still isn't entirely sure a corset is for her.

"How do you breathe in one?" she finally asks, unable to resist.

"Practice," the shopkeeper replies, adjusting the laces first as Araceli does some more fidgeting before she nods and steps out so Ellana can get a look at her in it.

"You don't lace it as tight as it goes at first," Araceli explains. "It's little adjustments, it's like other things - you break them in, maybe an hour or so a day until they're comfortable. But trying them on is a shock unless they were made exactly for you which is what I'm used to. But I wanted to leave with one today, the rest I can have made for me and delivered."

Everyone likes presents, right?

Practice. Ellana has been practicing at a lot of things since leaving the clan, but practicing breathing seems like... well, not fun. She shifts from one foot to the other, debating whether or not she really wants to have trouble breathing just to see herself with actual cleavage for once in her life. And then she considers the implications of an elf trying on a corset and the fuss it might cause, especially if she decides not to purchase it. They'd probably take it out back and burn it.

"Would I--" She stops herself, annoyed with how meek she sounds. Annoyed that being in this city is making her act the way her clan always said the city elves acted. She straightens her spine, inhales a steadying breath, and reminds herself that she's as good as anybody. "I'd like to try one on, just to see the shape it gives me."

Plenty of other necessary things aren't an awful lot of fun either but corsets are undeniably very beautiful, and Araceli is a huge fan of very beautiful things, and that she can go to relatively little effort to garner the reactions she does when she wears them? That's power. She likes that. She'll take whatever power she gets in Thedas especially when she has nothing close to rely on the way she would in Castileos either, no matter what skills she came prepared with.

Grinning, she bounces on the spot, utterly delighted. "That's the spirit! Señora? My friend, Councillor Ashara of Skyhold, will need her measurements taken? I think gold and green will bring out her complexion best?"

Why yes, Orlesian, Araceli is small and ready to brawl or she will trash your reputation with her big mouth since she gossips to every single scout and soldier in Skyhold so do not doubt that steely determined glint in her eyes.

The shopkeeper and her assistant exchange a look, no doubt weighing the options here. If they serve the elf and one of their regular customers walks in... but on the other hand, if they don't serve this elf who is apparently on some council in the Inquisition... The organization may not have the support of everyone in Orlais yet, but with Madame de Fer a prominent member of it, perhaps it's wise not to get on her bad side.

Beckoning her assistant closer, the shopkeeper hands her the measuring tape and goes off to see what they have ready made in those colors. Ellana is brought behind the divider for privacy and is quickly measured. At least the assistant makes no comment, unlike those brought to Skyhold for the soiree. Oh, those tailors didn't want to speak to her either, but they spoke around her.

Within minutes, the two women and going over the numbers and a corset just as Araceli described is brought forward and slipped onto her. Ellana holds the front against herself and the moment the laces are tightened she lets out a startled sound, unsure how to breathe.

[OPEN] So Much Is At Stake

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