faderift | OPEN - Pel's Yarn Shop

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OPEN - Pel's Yarn Shop

WHO: Pel Ashara and OPEN
WHAT: Opening up the yarn shop
WHEN: Present
WHERE: Skyhold, near the stables
NOTES: Will update if there are any warnings.

To say Pel has yarn coming out her pointed ears is accurate--she finds little wool fibers absolutely everywhere. She saw some in her mug of tea once and just stirred it in, hoping she wouldn't notice it going down. She didn't.

She acquired her spinning wheel over a month ago and has now made enough yarn to open her shop, hoping sales can help pay for publishing her book before a new Divine gets elected. Once there's a new Divine, her book will be banned and this will all be for naught.

She sits in a chair behind a blanket with carefully laid-out skeins of yarn, organized by price. Being organized by price, of course, means being organized by color and content. If it's not wool, it's more expensive. If it's dyed, it's more expensive. If it's dyed expensively, of course it's more expensive. Unbleached undyed wool yarn is the cheapest, but it has a range of colors from creamy white to chocolate brown to stone grey. Of the colors, yellow, indigo blue, and earthen red are cheapest, with green and warm purple marginally more expensive. Scarlet is pricier, as is cool purple. There is one skein of very fine silk yarn, an undyed off-white, and a few of middling-price linen.

Among knit wares are shawls, scarves, leggings, and mitts. Some are lacy and delicate, some are thick and warm.

Come one, come all!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Oh! Yarn."

Comes the almost breathless sigh of happiness from one Bethany Hawke, as she follows the posting on the board to here. All different colors, all different skeins, all marvelous. She carefully puts her stack of books down, and kneels down to start picking out the ones she wants.

"Did you spin these all yourself?"

"Every last one!" Pel brightens a little at the sight of her first customer, a smile coming on that she doesn't even have to fake. She stops spinning and turns her attention to Bethany. "I even dyed some of the roving myself."

Bethany looked up at the young elven woman, her brown eyes wide. "You did? Maker's breath, you've got talent. It looks like it just came off the sheep that way." She hums as she goes through the various colors, piling up the yarn in front of her.

"What would you recommend for making stockings? I need something warm, durable, and yet soft..."

He's more curious than anything else... because yarn, quite the thing to sell in Skyhold. It caught his attention do to the location being relatively close to one of his favorite haunts. Does Michel de Chevin have any particular use for yarn? Not really, he's never done any sort of yarn work before, not that it wouldn't be useful to learn something he supposed... something beyond darning his clothing now and then...a useful tool for bachelors.

He was looking at the warmer colors in wool with interest, this, at least could be useful in such cold climates...well if he had the proper skill for it, "I do not suppose there are instructional tools, Madame?"

If she recalls correctly, that's the first person with that accent to address her with that much respect. Madame, my lady. Most Orlesians don't use a form of address with her at all. But that's not what impresses her. What impresses her, and it shouldn't, is that he's not asking her to make him stuff. He is asking how he can learn to make himself stuff. That is just fabulous in her book. Practical and thrifty.

"I can teach you how to knit," she offers.

Michel, while still tainted with the stigma of the Chevalier, certainly stood out from them and in ways he's confessed to few others for good reason. For whatever he was and whatever he'd done, there was no call to disrespect, no point in disgracing himself in his new purposes. He still held onto certain ideals and he'd rejected others over the years for trying to do what he thought was right in light of his mistakes.

He was also pragmatic, he could buy what he wanted, he could have others do things for him. He'd seen true nobles become Chevalier, and some of them did not know how to do anything beyond the fencing that their families expected them to learn. He was a survivor, having others serve you was more crippling than learning to do for yourself. And so...

"If it would not put you out, I would pay for the yarn and for the time it would take you to teach," that was only fair. Michel did not know how long it would take to learn, he was clever with his hands, but detailed work often took more time, such as trap making with Zevran.

"It's very easy to learn." She's not declining his offer, just being up front. "You'll spend a lot more time practicing than listening to me teach. Here."

She picks out some nice undyed brown wool yarn, soft and quality but fluffy enough that his mistakes won't show as badly.

"You'll want to start with something like this. You can get a pair of needles from most merchants, and don't let them scam you with the expensive ones. Just the wood ones will do. If they're not smooth enough and the yarn catches on the wood, you can sand them yourself and finish it with warm beeswax. You'll want them about this big around."

She makes a circle with her fingers to show him.

Useful tips, especially given Michel's status as a neophyte of knitting, this was a kind of domestic task that was new to him. As used to taking care of himself and his belongings as he was he'd never gone quite so far as to make something. It simply interested him to be able to do so.

He would take her advice as well, aside from believing her it seemed practical enough. Yes, he could afford expensive needles, but if wooden ones would work just as well he would use those. If he did not have an aptitude for this sort of thing, then nothing would be lost.

"And what would you recommend I start out with...something simple, yes?" A blanket? A scarf?...these things seemed straightforward, but he was interested in her opinion.

"Scarves are easiest. Get from the beginning to the end with one and you'll have improved a great deal."

"I do not imagine I'll be much good at it any time soon, but I would like to be able to make something for...someone," after all he'd been given quite a treat from Zevran and he didn't want to do anything that would make him uncomfortable.

She doesn't ask, or want to know, what specific someone.

"It doesn't take long to pick it up. Five-year-olds learn how to spin and knit. If you're going to learn from me, you will be good at it any time soon."

Capisce?

"Your confidence is inspiring," Michel said as much with a lopsided smile, "I look forward to having you teach me, Madame."

Stella.

[ Normally it's offered with a laugh or a smile, some teasing flirtation or- something. Today? It's warm still but it is strained, Zevran flitting to her side but seeming a touch distressed. Unsettled. ]

Might I steal you away for a moment?

[One of the other merchants always keeps an eye on her wares whenever Pel takes a break. Pel gathers up her money bag and pushes to her feet, ready to follow him.]

[ He takes her by the hand - something he's come to enjoy doing the more often it happens- and walks her to the Garden. Or rather a particular point in the garden. He sits, gestures for her to do the same, and slides on the ring she made for him. Once the roots weave and form about them he shifts and curls until he is able to rest his head on her lap. ]

You loved Gavin, yes?

Yes.

[She's a woman who chooses few words over many, and allows her feeling to be conveyed in the way she strokes his hair as it falls over her lap. Her touch is tender enough to make up for all the words she does not say. He is clearly in need of it.]

Did you want to, when you first began your- association? Courtship? However it is done with the Dalish.

[ He doesn't even know how it is done by humans, let alone other city elves. How is he to know what the dalish did? ]

Want to love him? [She tucks a strand behind his ear.] There were already some feelings there. But yes, I wanted to love him.

[It's an odd question, but she'll follow the conversation where he leads. He's definitely going somewhere with this.]

How did you know that was what it was? That- how did it feel?

[ He has been content with the friendships he's built, the lovers he has taken. But something in that moment the other day- something from that game of seduction turning true.

Twists a place in him he'd long thought dead. ]

[This is getting downright confusing.]

Are you asking how I knew I loved him?

I- yes? No. I am not certain what it is I am trying to ask, forgive me.

[ For a long moment he stares up through the weave of roots and leaves, trying to arrange his thoughts. ]

It does not count with me- the laying with another. It is a pleasing diversion, great fun, quite enjoyable but it is...without sentiment. Without meaning. It weighs nothing. I have been content with this for years but I wonder now if perhaps I should not find someone with which there is weight? Not that I have felt unfulfilled or dissatisfied with my lovers, this is hardly the case.

I am not making much sense at all, am I?

You're making perfect sense.

[She offers him a little smile. She doesn't offer her smiles to just anyone. She's too self-conscious about them, and how dopey they look because of her underbite.]

It's not about sex. Or about discharging some duty or expectation. Do you want this because you've been told it's what adults do and it's best time you grow up, or because you want to love someone and be loved in return?

I am quite grown, Stella, and you know this.

[ He snorts a soft laugh, reaching up to trace her cheek gently with his fingers. Her smiles are rare and sweet things- something she should do more often without feeling quite so wary of them. ]

I want this because I miss it. Or... I think I miss it. So long it's been since I last-

Since I ever...

I do not know how it feels for there to be sentiment and meaning.

[Okay, that was her bad, thinking about Gavin again. His touch makes her smile more, forgetting a little more of her self-consciousness.]

With Gavin, it...we were both terrible at it. Of course I'd never been with anyone else, so I thought it was magical. But sentiment does make up for a lot. You...

It's...metaphysical, when there's sentiment. It's more than the mere act itself.

[She captures the hand on her cheek with her own hand, and turns in to press a kiss to his palm before nestling against it.]

You...loved someone. And never had that?

Imagine Bethany jumping up and down and clapping like the knitting nerd she is ...

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Sheepish Templar is sheepish