faderift | and i still find pieces of you in the back of my mind

Tiny cakes from Orlais had arrived in the Skyhold kitchens and Sabriel was the first to know about them; sometimes it paid off to be a regular kitchen dweller. She was also the first to make off with a handful, and she had one destination in mind - tea with Ellana.

She had been meaning to speak with Ellana anyway. She was fond of Ellana, enjoyed answering her questions, and found a comeraderie in the Council's debates and the attempts to soothe tempers that often flared which led to them both trying to get everyone to meet halfway. Sabriel had spent so long with the same people, both in the Circle and out of it with the Wardens, that to have a friend that belonged to neither? It was exciting and new, but also enjoyable, a type of kinship she hadn't felt for a long time. Especially when tiny cakes were involved - spirits only knew that Skyhold lived and breathed Ferelden easy cooking and anything that wasn't a stew was a blessing.

Sabriel heads up to the garden, leaving a brief message with her sending crystal on the way to invite Ellana to tea, and then settles in to wait.

Wherever there are tiny cakes, Ellana will be there in the hopes of getting to eat them. She's quick to enter the gardens, arriving only a couple of minutes after Sabriel contacted her. She takes a seat with a smile, and tries not to look too desperate for the treats they're having with tea.

"It's good to see you. I hope you weren't freezing in Haven."

"And you as well," Sabriel says in return. She nods towards the cakes - go on, she won't tell. "Having a talent for fire magic has its benefits in surprising ways." Lighting fires. Bottled fire. Magic boots. "And being used to Skyhold helps. I miss the warmer weather of Nevarra, though. When do you suppose we'll see spring?"

Tomorrow sounds too soon but the day after, now there's a possibility.

Oh, if Sabriel insists. Ellana quickly takes a cake and puts the whole thing in her mouth. They're so small that no one would just take a bite, right?

"I understand that! I was hearthmistress of my clan before coming here." Which wasn't as impressive as the title suggests. She simply gathered wood and lit the fires, then made sure they stayed lit. Hardly an arduous task.

"It's hard to say, especially up here in the mountains. I've never lived so high up before. Perhaps it will be later than it is everywhere else in the south."

The Courts of Orlais would be stunned at such daring behaviour, but fortunately, this isn't Orlais, and Sabriel is a Warden, she's chowed down on occasion. She can't talk.

"Hearthmistress," Sabriel echoes. "Is there a story behind that?" Possibly, possibly not, but she is interested. She's aware of Keepers, Firsts, and possibly a Second in a clan, but Hearthmistress is new... or, yes, it could just be as it sounds.

"As there was snow already in fall, then it's likely that's true. Perhaps the snow remains all year round..." She shivers lightly at the thought. She is not built for snow and the cold, as little as she complains about it... even if the garden around them survives, but she's sure that's not entirely the gardens doing. There must be magic involved, there.

The question results in Ellana scrunching up her nose and shaking her head.

"There is Sylaise, the hearthkeeper in our tales of the Creators, but I never did anything really important. Just gathered wood and lit fires." She lets out a sigh. "Anyone can do that, and someone else does do that now that I'm not there. It's just a pretty name for it, I guess."

Sabriel's shiver makes Ellana want to laugh, but she does sympathize. Her little elven body does not like the cold at all. Sure, she'll suffer through it like anyone else, but it's not comfortable by any means.

"I hope that's not the case. Snow is only fun to be in for a little while, before it becomes too much."

That interest fades to a sympathetic frown, instead. She can't say she understands it and nor would she say so, because that's insulting when she has no real idea, but she does understand the idea of something repetative, something you have to do because you're there and not of your choice. She, personally, is just fortunate she did not mind either path chosen for her.

No. She walks it. She doesn't have to.

"I wonder if it'll clump up inside the walls," Sabriel's voice is glum as she picks up a cake of her own. "I find it hard to sleep anywhere, but most of the better places have been claimed by bedrolls already. More of inside the courtyard and the rooms that haven't been fixed will drive more people inside."

"That's true. We should be focusing efforts on rebuilding rooms against the cold winds." Ellana just threw her bedroll in with the rest of the Asharas, but they drifted in and out depending on whether they were spending the night with someone else or not. And Pel moved in with Krem early on.

"Some of those rooms with broken walls have beds too. Real beds. I've never slept in one before. Is it strange sleeping up off the ground?" Surely as a human and a former mage of a Circle, Sabriel has slept in a bed.

Sabriel has, in fact, slept in a bed before. For the better part of thirteen years, actually, until she was dragged (she wasn't) unceremoniously away from it thanks to her conscription. That first night, the ground was very, very hard, and cold. Not to mention lonely. Even nights in the caravans were nothing like it - it was surprising what beds you could make as a child from feathers and wool and your father's coat.

She gives a sad, pathetic little sound at the mention of a real bed and her smile droops. She picks up her cup of tea as she speaks. "The first thing I asked for when arriving in Skyhold was a room with a bed." It's the only thing she's ever asked the Inquisition for personally, aside from, well, the Wardens out west. The answer had been a no. "Pillows and blankets make it cosy and warm. With a proper mattress, it's very comfortable. It feels a little like floating, weightless... drifting away to sleep, with harmless wanderings in the Fade. There's nothing quite like sleeping in a bed."

Ellana hadn't expected it to sound that appealing, but it really does. Back with the clan, they fought for space in the cramped aravels and Ellana had never bothered. She didn't want the mast for the sails digging into her back, and you had to contort yourself into uncomfortable positions because of the aravel's shape. She just slept on the ground. When it rained, she slept under the aravel, but she had to remember where she was, or she'd hit her head on the underside come morning.

"It sounds lovely," she murmurs before taking another cake. It's hard for her to stay warm, and here at Skyhold, she just sleeps in the clothes she's worn during the day. It helps. But blankets piled on top of her to make her cozy sounds like a dream. And harmless wanderings through the Fade? Would a bed really prevent the demons from finding her? That part sounds a little too good to be true. They always find her when she's feeling low.

Perking right back up after stuffing the cake in her mouth, she says, "Maybe someday I can sleep in one and then I'll know what you're talking about."

It didn't stop demons from coming, but in a room full of potentially frightened or worried children, perhaps a little homesick, if they felt at ease when asleep, nothing did come... and that was because they felt safe in their beds. Make a Circle into a prison and it's ripe for demons.

Hard to say whether it could work on not-actually-an-archdemon nightmares.

"Sooner than later," Sabriel encourages, though her smile doesn't quite return as she lowers the tea down to her lap. Wait a minute. "Wait. Those rooms with broken walls..."

"Yes?" Ellana prompts, taking up her own cup and blowing on the surface to cool it down first. But then her mind catches up with Sabriel's and her eyes light up. "They have beds that aren't being used."

"And," Sabriel adds, "no one has claimed them." Not yet, at least. They will if the cold keeps settling in and the masons make their way to that part of the fortress. "If we find one of them that isn't as bad as the rest? It could be habitable. We could make it so."

Or, more blankets.

They don't have to be stonemasons to get a room back in proper order either. Her expression is excited, and she nods along quickly.

"If the rubble is still lying there, we can energize it and seal the walls and roof back up. We could make a cozy place for ourselves. That is, if you don't mind sharing with me?" She doesn't think Sabriel will mind, but in every situation, Ellana is gauging things. How do people react to an elf? Are they comfortable? Are they really comfortable, or just enough to speak with them? But with Sabriel, she's about 99% sure this will be fine. Wardens don't discriminate, and she spoke already of her life among all sorts of different peoples.

Sabriel nods along. "There would likely be rubble strewn about from the adjacent rooms, too, if we had need of it..." in the case the sealing was not perfect. Surely the stonemasons would not complain as long as they picked up what was harder to reuse; it would save them some time.

Ellana's question surprises her. Not in a bad way; it isn't until Ellana asks if she would mind sharing that she had been unknowingly proposing it as the intended outcome. For most of her life she had shared a room or a campfire; there were a scant few years she hadn't. These days, throwing down her bedroll alone was more as not to disturb someone else. But that had been before a room, a room with a bed, and a friend to share it with.

She smiles. "Not at all," she assures. She has never invested in race squabbles; people are people. "As long as you don't mind sharing with me. I keep... odd hours. And..." best to get it out there now, if Beleth hasn't spoken of it before, "... nightmares, sometimes. I'll aim to work on that one."

"Oh, it's all right. I understand." Ellana knows some people can't help how they sleep, and she won't hold it against her. At least, she won't unless she's had no sleep for a long time herself. Then she may get a little grouchy.

"I tend to spend all day out around the fortress, so you can have the room to yourself during the day, especially if you need to nap."

"A room will remind me more of home, I'm certain. It'll help." Wardens and nightmares, especially with the Calling. A few people know, but not many. She's had time to figure out coping mechanisms, what works and what doesn't with distractions, but it's always the falling asleep part that eludes her. But she's woken enough people to know that exhaustion is better and being upfront is also better than the surprise.

"That might not be a bad idea," she continues. "I would be grateful." She picks up another cake, the pile rapidly diminishing, and nibbles on its edge. "Perhaps we should explore the rooms, after we finish these. Then to the merchants, and the stores..." For bedding, that's the most important, for now. She knows her way enough around a stall with one little money she has to hand (there's more in Nevarra, somewhere. Likely favours tied up somewhere, too). "And more cake, in celebration. If there is any left. They are quite popular, I've noticed."

"Yes, we should do that!" Ellana drinks her tea, and while it's still a bit too hot, she deals with it. More cake will help soothe her tongue, surely.

"Maybe there is a room with places to store clothes." Living out of an aravel has its benefits, like plenty of space for clothes. Here she lives out of a satchel. This will be good practice for what Ellana hopes to have some day. She wants a roof over her head and four walls, at least when she's not out exploring the world. She wants a bed and space that's just hers, where she can hide away and no one can see her.

Sabriel sips from her cup in thought. Most of her possessions are what's currently on her back; a borrowed tunic and shirt and pants, her armour hidden away, but the sword stays, as she does not like to be without it. Some things that had come from Perendale that had once been hers, but the rest was gone. There was so much at the estate, but she could not have it brought here, nor go there, sadly. Perhaps once the Warden business was attended to.

"A wardrobe would do it. I would say ask the quartermaster, but he would likely say to make it for ourselves." So many potential splinters; at least magic would be able to pull them out again, but it would still sting. "It's a shame I cannot go to Nevarra. There are likely many at my family's house." She sighs. "Though, we could fashion something similar from the stone."

"You would have to take the lead there. I know little about how they're made. Never used one before either." But this is a time for new things and new experiences, isn't it?

"We could always 'borrow' one from another derelict room, couldn't we? If we're going to the trouble of reconstructing the room ourselves, we should be able to fill it how we like."

Most of what Sabriel does know is learned from observing, but she doesn't mind taking the lead. She knows bedrooms and how to make it safe haven well.

"I don't see why not. It might have to be several, depending on the states they're in," Sabriel muses. Circle policy? Keep reusing until its worn and can no longer be put back together, but there's only so far you can go with mish mash parts. It does save on coin, and it is more personable than buying something new. "At least, the visiting dignateries are unlikely to want to use them for themselves."

Ellana can relate to the ways of the Circle in some respects. Such as reusing everything until it can't be used anymore. The clan received some items through trade, but most were things they crafted themselves. And if something needed mending, they did it. Nothing was throw away unless it was falling apart beyond repair. Clothes, baskets, tools, weapons, and more were all fixed again and again.

"No, I'm sure the Ambassador has set up all the rooms she'd like to keep for them." It's an unfortunate reality of the world that some people see themselves as better merely because of the blood in their veins or the coin in their purse. And those people just may give that coin to fund the Inquisition, if they like what they see. And so Josephine has to make sure they do.

She continues to drain her tea cup, eager to see what's available to them in the way of rooms. She definitely doesn't want one of those rooms up on the battlements with multiple doors. People -- including herself -- pass through them all the time. Why are there even beds in them? Who thought that was a good idea?

Josephine seemed to be good at her job, for the Inquisition to still be standing and for the visiting nobles to keep hiking up a mountain to visit Skyhold. Or, if they didn't, sending word along to family members to do the same. Maybe it was an attraction, a spectacle, but they keep coming all the same.

Sabriel's tea is empty, which she places back beside her, and then reaches for the last cake. Oh. Last, unless there are more. It seems only fitting to break it in half and offer the other piece to Ellana, small as it is. "There are plenty of places where the walls haven't been fixed, as of yet. Did you have someplace in mind?" Definitely not the battlements. Near the kitchens might be nice. Or overlooking the gardens- but most of those had long since been claimed. Were there more in the wings above the great hall?

"Thank you!" Ellana says, pleased by the gesture. The cake is eaten without delay and she finishes off her own tea a moment later.

"Someplace that doesn't get many people passing by would be best. There will be less noise at all hours that way." A room that maybe faces the mountains as opposed to the inner courtyards or garden of Skyhold, because noise could come through the windows too, if the room in question has them.

"Are you ready to look around?"

Less noise, more privacy. Sabriel nods in agreement. "I suppose it depends on what we can find," she agrees, but that's a good goal to start out with. They can be pickier as the options open themselves up.

Her tea already gone, Sabriel nods again. "I am ready if you are, Ellana."

(no subject)

serannas - 2016-01-29 20:05 (UTC) - Expand