Samwise Gamgee (
harthad_uluithiad) wrote in
faderift2015-11-27 11:56 am
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[open] concerning hobbits
WHO: Samwise Gamgee and EVERYONE HE CAN FIND
WHAT: Sam's arrived at Skyhold and is exploring! Also asking questions. All the questions.
WHEN: After arriving from the Fallow Mire
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Feel free to meet Sam in any part of Skyhold! He'll be all over.
WHAT: Sam's arrived at Skyhold and is exploring! Also asking questions. All the questions.
WHEN: After arriving from the Fallow Mire
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Feel free to meet Sam in any part of Skyhold! He'll be all over.
He'd tried to stick close to who he'd already started privately thinking of as his new friends - the other Sam and the wizard Twisted Fate. He'd even glimpsed, once or twice, the Man who'd pulled him out of the Mire in the first place, and saved him from being drownded. But the road from the Fallow Mire had been long, and Sam had spent much of it on his own, tucked away in small corners of wagons or sitting astride horses alongside dwarves, being too short to walk and have a hope of keeping up.
And when they'd arrived at last, he'd found himself suddenly left completely to his own devices.
Skyhold. He rolls the word around in his mind, staring up, up at the battlements and the clouds beyond. It's a good enough name for the place, he supposes, being up in the mountains as it is. And there's something in it that appeals to him - it's not quite Elvish, not quite Rivendell or Lothlórien, but it's a bit more fanciful than Hobbiton or Bywater, he thinks. As for the place itself, he finds himself a bit overwhelmed - not only with the size (which is enormous in its own right, apart from everything in it being built proportionate to Big People), but with the ceaseless activity and the seemingly endless places to explore and get lost in.
He finds the kitchen first, hobbit-senses guiding him true, but after he's snacked his fill he finds himself wanting to explore more, and he steps carefully down the stairs into the yard. There are folk of all shapes and sizes everywhere (though nobody he recognizes), and he takes a deep breath before walking forward, not quite sure where he's going.
There are Elves here; he knows that much. If nothing else, perhaps the Elves will know more about what's happened and why he's come here. Perhaps they'll at least know Gandalf's name.
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"Hello," she greets, trying not to look too puzzled by his appearance. She thinks that would be rude. "Are you looking for someone? Or something?"
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For the moment, though, he doesn't ask, merely shakes his head sadly.
"Seeing as you're kind enough to ask, my lady, I am looking for someone - or a lot of someones," he admits. "Only I don't think I'm very likely to find any of them."
After scouring the Mire and looking hopefully for any sign of his companions throughout the whole journey to Skyhold, he's more or less accepted that he's the only one of the Fellowship to have come through. It doesn't help that no one he's talked to seems to have heard of any of them.
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It's still impossible for her to work out just who he is, but now that she's taking a good look at him, she takes note of the shape of his ears and the size of his feet. He's unlike anyone she's ever seen before, and that's exciting.
"My name is Ellana. What's yours?"
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"It seems I've the only one who's come through," he says. "I've looked and looked, and none of them are here. Or leastways, if they have, they've managed to hide themselves so well no one at all has been able to find them."
He sighs, but not wanting to leave her question unanswered, inclines his head. "Samwise Gamgee, m'lady."
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"I'm not a lady," she adds after a brief pause to allow him to take in what she's said. "I'm Dalish. We have no nobility."
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"Dalish?" The word is unfamiliar to him, and he tilts his head, trying to remember if Bilbo had ever mentioned it. "Beg pardon, but what does that mean?"
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well this will be a fun conversation
"Why would elves live in a city with humans?" He'd never heard of such a thing, nor seen it. There are no elves in Bree, and Boromir had never talked of seeing them among his people in the White City. "And why wouldn't they honor your gods just the same?"
so fun. /sobs internally
"There was a war long ago between elves and humans. It was fought in a place called the Dales. I'm sure the humans tell it differently, but how we elves learn it, the humans wanted us to worship the Maker, but we have our own gods, the Evanuris -- the Creators. They launched an Exalted March on us to bring us to heel. In the end, we lost the war, the Dales, and were left with a choice: either submit to humans and worship the Maker, or live in exile as nomads. The elven people split then. Those who live in the cities worship the Maker, though some try to keep the old ways. Those who don't are called the Dalish, and we say, 'We are the last Elvhen. Never again shall we submit.'"
As she finishes, her expression is sad. It all happened so long ago, but it affects every elf today. She has long wished her people could all settle down in houses permanently and have a sense of security, but that's easier said than done.
"But I do think city elves are as much a part of the Elvhen as we Dalish are. It's just something we say."
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Only it's not. It's war, and submission, and exile; he doesn't know what an Exalted March might be, but it's clear enough that it's something terrible. Sam's expression goes from interested and eager to horrified and bewildered, and when he sees how sad Ellana herself looks, he feels just that much worse.
"Of course they are," he agrees passionately, without a thought given to the fact that he's about the last person to be an authority on the subject. Not all elves are alike, he knows that much, but they're still all a part of the same people, no matter where they might live. They're still all Elves.
He shakes his head. Wars and gods, and men and elves - it's all a bit above him, and he chews his lip for a moment, troubled and unsure what to say.
"Don't see how it matters much, who a person chooses to pray to," he says at last, slowly. "Don't see how it helps to try to force them to change, neither."
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But it's a heavy topic to go into and while some elves tell it with anger, the loss of so much just makes Ellana sad. She's never thought all humans could be bad, and it's proved true being here in the Inquisition, but that doesn't mean she doesn't grieve for what the People have lost.
"But tell me about yourself. I'm so interested to know all about the rifters and the worlds you come from."
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This...this is sadness, this is pain that is senseless. Tragedy and death that could have been avoided, if only people had learned to live with each other. And now these Elves have no home at all.
He wipes away a stray tear, one he hadn't noticed falling in the first place, and does his best to put on a brave face before looking back up at Ellana. She doesn't want to talk about it anymore, and that's fine. It's a bit of a relief, really, to think about (hopefully) happier things for a while, even if the prospect of talking about himself stumps him a bit.
"Well I don't know that there's much to say, least not that'd be of any interest to an Elf," he says, ducking his head a bit. "You'd have been better off asking old Mr. Bilbo, if he were here. Now he could tell a story!"
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"He is a great storyteller, then? Well, perhaps you've picked up a thing or two from him."
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He smiles ruefully at her combined warning and reassurance. "I know that right enough," he promises her. "There's folk like that everywhere, I reckon - ready to speak cruel and take what ain't theirs, just because someone else looks or acts a tad different. But you don't need to worry about me thinking that of you. You've been as kind as anything this far."
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"Two countries who have done horrible things to elves in the past are Orlais and the Tevinter Imperium. I've been having to remind myself that the people I see here from those countries are individuals, with their own views. I can't judge them by their country."
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"I've got the advantage, I guess, not knowing anything about anybody," he says at last. "It's easy not to think poorly of people, when you can barely keep straight who's who." He glances up at her. "Just so long as they don't try to do anything like that again!"
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She wishes it were so, because it's nice to dream.
"Well, let's talk of brighter things now. Anything you have in mind?"
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"I don't suppose," he says shyly, at last, "you have any happier tales of the Elves you might be willing to tell? Or any - any songs, perhaps?"
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"But happier tales? Hmm." She needs to take a moment because all that are coming to mind have death and destruction in them. All of them. It's enough to depress a person, but finally she recalls one to tell him.
"There are evil creatures in this world called darkspawn. They are corrupted beings, and their blood does the same to others. Once, long ago, one of the Dalish clans fled from a group of darkspawn, but no matter where they went, the darkspawn followed. Finally, the clan's leader, Iloren, stopped his people. He said they would stand and fight, but they would be clever about it. And so before the darkspawn arrived, the clan gathered dried grass, brush, and anything else they could that would burn, laying it out all around their camp. When the darkspawn came, hungry for chaos and death, Iloren used his magic to call down lightning upon the brush, which lit and engulfed all the darkspawn, sparing his clan."
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But when Ellana finishes her tale, all Sam can do is stare at her for a moment, blinking uncertainly. Oh. That story...well. It hadn't been what he'd expected, that's all. A bit more corruption and death than he'd hoped for.
"Well...thank you," he says, finally, and ponders a minute more, trying to find something good to say. "I...I'm glad the clan was saved. And that Iloren was so wise - though I wouldn't want to clean up after that fire," he adds.
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"They would have moved on again," Ellana answers. "They were far in the Anderfels, a desolate land of desert. Once the darkspawn were defeated, they would have traveled back to more hospitable lands."
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Ellana looks off into the distance for a moment, deep in thought, before she turns her attention back to Sam. "Between just us? I have long wished to have a permanent home with a roof over my head. But tradition is hard to break and my people don't feel the same."
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