( open ) one of these days letters are gonna fall from the sky

[dressmaking]

WHO: Lacey Harwood and you!
WHAT: Learning her way around.
WHEN: Through the end of Drakonis.
WHERE: Various locations around Skyhold.
NOTES: None! Come say hi.

Library

One of the first places Lacey goes is the library, once she hears that there is one and finds out where it is. It's occurred to her quickly that she needs to orient herself in this strange place — that she's not yet totally convinced isn't some illusion created by the Capitol, but she should probably play along just to be safe — and since she doesn't yet know whom she can trust enough to talk to, if anyone, she may as well consult a book or two.

Which is where one might find her, starting in on a thick volume that appears to be about the history of the Chantry and looking more and more confused with each passing second. There are a handful of others on various other topics sitting on the table next to her, a couple of which she's already tried to read and found she couldn't; looking at the books' spines, they're in Orlesian and Nevarran. Language barriers aren't really a thing she's ever had occasion to encounter before. Even people in the Capitol with their bizarre accents speak the same language as people in the districts.

This one she can read, but the topic is... not so easily understood. Another thing that doesn't really exist in Panem: organized religion.

Garden

Later, Lacey takes another walk around the fortress and stumbles upon the garden. Even after having been in the Capitol, which isn't short on public parks, seeing dedicated green space is still a bit of a novelty to her, the woman from District 8 who only ever sees green growing things at home when she's looking at the neat lawns in front of the houses in the Victors' Village. This isn't like any of the parks in the Capitol, either; it seems more... wild, somehow. Clearly a space intended for people to be in and tend to, but not so neat and clean and perfectly ordered. If anything, that makes it more interesting, not less.

Careful not to disturb anyone who might be tending to the plants, she steps into the garden quietly to take a look around, pausing near a flowering bush briefly and leaning down to sniff the blossoms.

Battlements

At some point, Lacey climbs up to the battlements, where the air is crisper and colder — though that hardly bothers her; winters in Eight aren't exactly what one would call warm. Aside from a couple of passing guards on patrol, there's no one else up here for now, and she leans her hands on the parapet and just breathes. To say the mountain view is striking is a vast understatement. She can almost, almost believe this is real, that she's not in Panem but instead in some other world entirely.

But she's still waiting. Waiting for Snow or the Gamemakers to shatter the illusion. They've always been told there is nothing else outside of Panem, not anymore. The idea that this is another world entirely is so unbelievable as to be totally absurd.

(The hope, though — that doesn't go away so easily.)

Comments

library

[serannas]

Now there's an expression that's graced Ellana's face plenty of times as well. Plenty of what she reads in the library has confused her and it's taken time and cross-referencing to work it all out. She doesn't want to be rude and just come up to stare at the woman's book, so she comes to the opposite side of the table and gently clears her throat to announce her presence.

"Not very clear, is it? I find a lot of books here aren't written with a wide audience in mind."

[dressmaking]

Lacey startles — but only slightly — and glances up. The woman on the other side of the table is smaller than Lacey is by just a touch, with tattoos the like of which Lacey's never seen before and ears that taper into points. A few of the people who had been there when she'd come through the rift had had them too.

Right now she's just assuming it's a cosmetic alteration, like they do in the Capitol. The idea that there were people of other races here — that there might even be other races at all — hadn't yet crossed her mind.

"It's a little dense," she admits, trying to sound composed and not quite so uncertain and thrown off as she really is. She studies the other woman for a moment, then ventures, "I can't say I'm from around here."

She's not wearing gloves, and the shard in her left hand, while not glowing so intensely as it was when she first arrived, is probably obvious on a moment's inspection.

[serannas]

Ellana likes getting to welcome rifters and help them settle. Part of it has to do with the fact that they don't see an elf and automatically hate them, so she isn't afraid to approach. She nods as her eyes check out Lacey's hand, knowing she must feel so confused by Thedas history.

"Is it something you'd like help with? I can't say I know everything about my world, but I'll tell you what I know."

[dressmaking]

There's another thing, Lacey notes as the other woman looks at her with curiosity, but no recognition. No one here has recognized her. In Panem, she's a celebrity; all the victors are. The Capitol knows her better than the districts, but even then, with the Games every year it's impossible to avoid the media coverage. And she's always in the Capitol for the Games every year, whether she's mentoring or not, because she makes herself go — and so someone's always talking to her or about her. Maybe not the way they talk about Cashmere, or Enobaria, or Finnick, or the new girl Johanna who so intrigued everyone with last year's unexpected win, but she's not invisible, either.

So the fact that this woman doesn't seem to know her is both confusing and refreshing. She can't quite trust that everything about this isn't all a lie, but... maybe it's okay to talk to someone for a little while, play along and see what happens. Maybe.

"I'm not sure," she says carefully, and lays the book on the table, pages open. "Someone mentioned something about a 'Chantry'. It sounded important."

And then there are the other books stacked on the table next to her, but... may as well focus on one topic at a time.

[serannas]

Ellana takes a seat across from Lacey and lifts an eyebrow. Well, it seems she's studying the one topic Ellana knows the least about. Even though she's read a great deal since arriving at Skyhold, Ellana has only gotten glimpses of the Chantry through her readings of other topics. And of course she grew up on tales of the horrors of the Exalted Marches the Chantry set out against the elves.

"I'm afraid my education is lacking there. We Dalish elves worship our own gods, not the Maker as the Chantry does. I can tell you some things, but others can give you more. A Chantry sister will talk your ear off, and give you a very biased account. The average Andrastian may be a bit more balanced."

Her eyes drift to the stack of books before back at the woman.

"My name is Ellana, by the way."

[dressmaking]

"Lacey," she answers, feeling decidedly awkward at the fact of having to introduce herself. It's been a long time since she's been in a situation where her conversation partner didn't know who she was.

She has no idea what Dalish elves are, although she is just going to assume they're some sort of group or organization, not... an entire race.

And while organized religion is totally unfamiliar to her — she's still not really gotten the gist of what Ellana's saying — belief in a higher power is at least something she's aware of. In Panem, though, more people are superstitious than outright religious.

"You have your own gods?"

If Ellana can't tell her much about the Chantry, maybe she can tell her about something she's more familiar with instead.

[serannas]

"Yes, the Evanuris, or the Creators. Gods and goddesses who shaped the world and helped the elven people in the ancient days, before they were lost to us." Her voice holds a hint of sadness to it. What wonders would the world have now if the Creators weren't locked away?