faderift | open; Give me a field, give me a big sky

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open; Give me a field, give me a big sky

WHO: Araceli, Morrigan, Asher and you
WHAT: Catch-all for Bloomingtide
WHEN: Bloomingtide (post-5th Bloomingtide for Araceli)
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: A proper catch-up for all three characters below with specific starters and some open headers, if you'd like something specific feel free to hit me up! If you'd like a backdated thing for Araceli or Morrigan, let me know and I'll sort that too, I know I've been gone for a fair bit sorry!
Araceli's threads will all be post 5th Bloomingtide when she gets back from her mission in Antiva!
For some ooc details on Morrigan things, please see here, a rookery post will go up shortly for research helpers!
Warnings for talk of violence, blood and language in Asher's threads.

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i;
Perhaps she is found on a rooftop or on the battlements, after all, that seems to be the natural habitat of Araceli Bonaventura but for once she isn't scrambling around if she's up there. Usually towards the end of the day she can be found playing her lute and singing along, the music carrying in the quiet.

Other times she is by the stables or the gardens, or wherever a quiet spot might be found, lost in herself and the music, and for once a little bashful if she is discovered.

ii;
Just because she's recently returned from Antivan doesn't mean she's allowing herself to relax, and she's always been active enough that most days Araceli can be found up on the walls, rooftops or battlements in the early hours of the morning, or assisting in teaching those who wish to learn whenever they approach her in various spots, moving from the traditional spot at the stable because after all, variety is the spice of life, is it not?

And because she has no wish to be a slouch, when she can find a willing partner she's eager to get in some sparring time, testing her long slender rapiers against the heavier swords and shields or shorter daggers of Thedas. She's been to Antiva twice and plans to head back out into Thedas again soon, this isn't the time for her to get rusty.

iii;
Evenings often find Araceli in the tavern, finally relaxing at the end of the day, eager to take on anyone who dares to try their luck against her at cards or dice. Equally though, she's happy enough to sit back and just have a drink and swap stories with those she knows or those she might like to know, everyone is welcome to draw up a seat.

iv;
When you're learning to be a bard - not that she's told many people that in so many words, only those who need to know in her or her teacher's opinion - that requires a lot of reading so the library is once again a place to find Araceli reading. Or trying to.

No one really enjoys all aspects of bard training now do they?

v;
[Wildcard; choose your own adventure here and I'll roll with it!]

i;
It is unfortunate but hardly surprising that news of the eluvian spreads so rapidly. Perhaps if it had not fallen into the hands of their enemies and had arrived in a more sedate manner she might have passed it off as a strange trinket and nothing more, but that had not been the case. No, it had to fall into the hands of the Venatori. Into the hands of Venatori allied with Red Templars no less. The illness that had taken hold of Skyhold had granted her some reprieve when she had taken Kieran but there is no chance to avoid it now and she is prepared for questions on it even if she isn't exactly pleased to have to answer them, seated out in the gardens close to the door of the eluvian.

After all, she wants to know who might wish to try their luck at the lock or the wards, who might linger too long or what questions they might ask of it and why.

ii;
She has never been one for sitting idly by, never one for allowing the day to pass and so Morrigan rises early to visit what stalls there are in Skyhold, passing over this and that, picking what suits her fancy. Ink is always needed, healing supplies, needles and threads, amusements for boys and always fabric or new clothes.

Would it surprise many to catch her sewing in quiet corners? Certainly she never made her gown for the ball herself but somehow she is always able to procure something suitably like a griffon for a boy that enjoys tales about them.

Or perhaps she is tending to the plants she has brought with her in the garden if she is not doing that, or if she is not ferrying a boy off to his lessons and making sure he gets there rather than becoming distracted by the stables, or a visitor, or some slobbering hound (or a stray nug.)

iii;
If she has been somewhat remiss in working on another project agreed to with Leliana, then she is sure she can be forgiven, since she doubts it is of the highest priority for the spymaster either. But with so many rifters and time spent with another that caught her attention in such a way on the journey to the Hinterlands, she finds herself once again seeking them out and placing a notice on the boards asking for their assistance for research purposes.

Dragons should catch their attention, dragons have a way of doing that, and she is sure that appealing to knowledge of their worlds rather than simply their shards should help.

Of course her usual work is of great importance too, and she can often be found in the gardens reading and writing, or in her study with the door opened to let in what little sun Skyhold allows, a young boy appearing between his lessons for odd moments, always with a smile.

iv;
The tavern isn't a place Morrigan has frequented often but since Leliana has made good on her offer to provide Kieran with a sending crystal, leaving him safely tucked up in bed is more of an option.

Sometimes even a Witch of the Wilds needs a drink and when your study happens to be full of artifacts you could never hope to put a value to, you would never dare to drink there. Should you choose to join her, she will be seated in a darkened corner, her back to it with a good view, out of the way of the worst of the noise though when you are able to change your shape at will, escaping is all too easily, especially when there are drunkards about.

v;
[Wildcard; choose your own adventure here and I'll roll with it!]

i;
When the carts rumble up through the gates of Skyhold bearing more of the goods that came when Asher arrived alone, he's helped out by a dwarf on one side and a blonde mage on the other, both of them frowning as they get him to the healing tents.

The story they tell is of an abomination, that Asher is a Reaver, that one is a mage with healing spells and the other an alchemist but still, that they would really rather someone looked at him. For Asher to be so quiet isn't normal and his complaints are token at best, drifting in and out at first if there are visitors.

It's not a pretty sight if you come to see him after his month away visiting and working but well it's Asher, when has he ever been a pretty sight?

ii;
As soon as Asher is able to leave, or rather, escape the healers, he makes for the valley camp again where the rest of the Boneflayers have seen fit to add their tents alongside his own, almost a little village. Or a hamlet. A little misshapen and lumpy, all painted with loops and swirls of kaddis in varying colours so Bronson can find it with a larger coop for the chickens but it's his.

It calls for light work, and his time away means deliveries for various folk, and so off he goes around the camp or up to Skyhold each and every day, slow progress at first as he works the stiffness out of his limbs but he'll get there.

Plenty of nights in the hold clearly weren't spent simply wrestling or drinking though and if you happen by him when he's not on a delivery run, he's sat comfortably with Bronson on guard, working pelts to make more blankets. Skyhold's cold after all and the last lot went down a storm.

iii;
Finally he's holding court again, and by that he's propping up the bar. Literally propping it up, making up for lost time and maybe missing the good stuff he was knocking back when he was with the family and the hold but what can a man do?

He's loud, he's obnoxious, he might be the flailing limb that sends your drink flying but he'll probably be good enough to buy you a new one. If you're not a shit about it but if you're are then you're on your own and he'll just laugh at you because life is far too short.

iv;
With the worst of his wounds barely healed, there's no time like the present to get back into the swing of things when he steps into the sparring ring. He takes his time stretching out first, all six-foot-four of him, groaning when his muscles ache but that's fine; pain works for him, pain gives him focus, gives him a strange sort of clarity when he fights and he's had far worse.

If he's keeping an eye out for a certain pair of mage healers then no one needs to know that but him.

He's up for any sort of a challenge though, but he's willing to warn that he won't quite be up to his best and the mess of bloody burn scars on his bare chest (no sense ruining another shirt right?) is a testament to that. Abominations are an ugly business.

v;
[Wildcard; choose your own adventure here and I'll roll with it!]

Since securing the eluvian in Skyhold, she has been somewhat remiss in not showing it to Leliana sooner but Kieran had been so eager to see her again since she had returned and then there had been Leliana's own work, followed so swiftly by the malady that had plagued so many that she had swiftly removed herself and her son from there to spend time together alone.

Spirits and demons had been spoken of, Kieran had needed no further fodder for his nightmares that she would risk and so time together beyond the valley had been sufficient, catching up on all the comings and goings that might captivate a boy of ten, her tales of the Hinterlands and the rescue of the eluvian.

Once Leliana's own business is concluded with her agents in Antiva, she leaves a note for her to meet her in the gardens at her earliest convenience for a time, that it is business that cannot be conducted elsewhere, pertaining to the eluvian. When Leliana arrives she will be waiting in her favoured spot by the gardens on a low bench, reading quietly as the sun casts a long shadow over her, turning the feathers of her robes from simple black to blues and greens.

Returning to Antiva had been no small feat but when the Nightingale had asked it of her, she could not say no, and so she had gone along with all the rest. In truth, she might have been eager for the distraction; the ball had awoken a simple truth and it was that she had spent far too long being useless, scurrying around gathering snippets of information and doing too little with them. That she had missed the thrill of hard work, of gaining the upper hand and working towards something greater, something larger than herself.

But that is better examined later because it's been far too long since she's had Korrin all too herself what with ball preparations, with the illness that had alarmed them both so much, with her own studies, and then of course their own missions with Korrin helping Twisted Fate and Araceli making her jaunt to Antiva.

She's quiet when she finds Korrin, carefully waiting until the other woman is alone because there are some reunions you have loudly and fondly but her last lingering memories of Korrin are helplessness, are trying to make her eat and drink, unable to alleviate her suffering in any meaningful way.

"Sirena," she purrs, arms about her waist from behind, rising up on her toes to press her forehead to wherever she can reach from behind, "I return from my adventures and I find myself utterly at your disposal."

Over the sending crystals where they couldn't see him, where he couldn't see them,it was easier to joke about the injuries. To shrug them off and to say that he had Amalia's healing (like a punch as if she could force the wellness back into him the way she could summon flame into being) and Yngvi's bitter brews that he had choked down.

Harder to actually let himself be still in the healing tents even as he jokes with him after the shock of the arrival back in Skyhold, when he's told to rest and with Bronson and one of the Boneflayers always close enough that they can't be mistaken for anything other than a guard as the rest settle into life around Skyhold.

Still, there are gifts for Sam, and Christine too, as if that can make up for his condition. And his condition is bad. Even for a Reaver, even for Asher; old bruises gone yellow from visiting the hold of course, and truly seeing the knots of his scars for the first time in Sam's case but it's the mess of his chest and abdomen where the abomination lurched wildly, too quick for Asher to even know if it had been a man or a woman, how old they'd been. Deep wounds from where the claws raked at him, blisters from where it blazed with fire.

Still-

"Owe you some damn good sausage don't I Sam?"

It had not been her intent to delay quite so long with the practical portion of Samouel's lesson but given all that had happened since his arrival at her door after the soiree, she could hardly be blamed, and neither could he. Still, she had found the time to send him a raven, to meet her at the grove at his earliest convenience where she awaits him, leaning in the shade of a tree with half a smile on her face.

"I apologise for the delay in this part of your lessons but circumstance forced my hand. I trust that you have put your time to good use however."

Once he's able to leave the healer's tents, that's when he bothers to send word to folk outside Korrin and Mal, Sam and Christine that he's back proper though word has likely filtered back already given that it's Asher, he came back in a state, and that he came back with several wagons groaning with supplies for the Inquisition.

It's a young man that comes to find Kaisa first though since Asher isn't really in any condition to go to the Warden camp, not when the healers already made sure he didn't have to see Anders either. Asher was good enough to provide the name and description so there's not too much asking about, and Bronson recognises her anyway, the hound ambling over ahead of someone who could be the double of one of Zevran's kestrels.

"Asher's askin' for you," he explains, Rivaini accent still strong after years away. "Name's Nasir, he sent me to come fetch you or Christine'll have his arse, no skin off my nose if you don't but he's back at his tent and we're clearing off. Go or don't, I'm just the messenger."

Should she decide to follow Nasir back or head along after, she will indeed find Asher, still bandaged, still looking like death chewed on him and decided he was a little too tough but shit ended badly last time and well he's back. So he should probably talk to her seeing as he's not entirely a bastard.

Since after the soiree Araceli has been turning over a great many things in her head, about her place in the Inquisition, about how much she's missed doing her job when being a bard isn't so very different though it makes her miss the rest of the queensguard as if she's missing pieces of herself. No matter how much she comes to love people here, she won't ever replace them but if they're working toward the same goal under the same teacher, she should get to know Beleth. Not Beleth when they're rescuing Zevran, not Beleth when they're meeting the Nightingale to confirm that they understand what they're agreeing to, not Beleth at a party or in Antiva again where they're working.

Simply Beleth the way that Araceli knows so many other people here, the way that so many others know her; after all, those who know of Araceli's studies in truth can be counted so very neatly on one hand, for learning to be a bard is another thing she would play close to her chest for the moment.

She's a rifter, she stands out if she wants to or not.

Seeking her out is easy when she knows Skyhold so well from above, and she drops down to quietly though she clears her throat so as not to startle her, giving her customary bow and a smile, long dark curls spilling over her shoulders.

"Beleth, I was hoping I might steal you away for a time unless you had other plans for the moment."

Orlesian gossip only concerned Morrigan as much as it might involve her, and even then it concerned her little. Let their tongues wag, let them say what they would - Kieran was safe from whatever they might say and that was all that mattered when Celene's patronage covered her for all their many arguments, for all the slander and malice that slipped from the mouths of courtiers with precious little better to do with their lives. Orlesian gossip about Celene or Briala mattered even less.

Still, she's not so foolish as to think she's the only one from the court to be found here and now with an eluvian present she is even more aware, so she keeps a careful watch on the door, and well, there are some who stand out, red curls rather than a face.

"Can I assist you?" She will ask at last, since she has been asked many questions from the benign to the downright bizarre since returning from the Hinterlands and again since her jaunt away with her son.

They keep threatening to do it but somehow - and it should practically be a crime considering that it's them - Asher and Mal have never officially sat down and had a proper drink. A real man to man drink. Not since Asher signed on with the Inquisition. And sitting at a bar is fine, he can do that, he can pour himself into a slouch in the tavern as he waits for Mal to show up, a bone for Bronson and one held in reserve for Jayne because mabari owners know certain things and that if they want peace for a drink, then it pays to have a bone with them.

"'bout time you showed your ugly mug!" He shouts when he finally spies Mal, waving a hand from where he's picked one of the best tables, a pitcher of ale and mugs waiting. "I got this round in, you're welcome, I know you've missed me and feared the worst but you'll have to put yours in before you get your gift."

Magic being real is still something Araceli struggles with. Oh she can believe it, after all Korrin used magic to rescue her and she's seen it countless times, has devoured plenty of books about the history of it and the politics surrounding it as well as more arcane things in an effort to understand what might be going on with her hand but when Ellana spoke of shapeshifting? To say it stretches credulity is putting it mildly. Is putting it politely. Korrin bottling a spirit and shoving it in a staff (that's a crude way to talk about what a Knight-Enchanter can do but Araceli fortunately isn't a mage, the intricacies of it don't need to be drilled into her) is one thing but to truly turn into another creature?

At least Ellana's volunteered to show her and she's glad to have Korrin with her, nudging her lover as they go to meet her.

"This really isn't some big joke the two of you are in on, is it? Shapeshifting is very real?"

Despite what he might have said to her in relation to the Iron Bull getting her something made up, when he'd gotten into the good stuff back at the hold, it had seemed like a good idea. A really good one. Maybe not a great idea but funny. Which is why Asher ends up roaming Skyhold with a wrapped gift that still doesn't leave very much to the imagination given the shape of it, looking for Merrill until he at last tracks her down, wherever she might be with a smile that means only trouble.

"There you are," he greets, whipping said gift behind his back at the last second to scandalise everyone else behind him. "I might've taken some liberties but I brought you something back from my hold. Just for you. In light of our discussion a while back."

Thankfully the last part of becoming a Reaver is the easiest part for the teacher. The bulk of the hard training can be done for anyone - you can always push the limits, edge them into something close to a berserker and a battlemaster but honing their pain and not their rage - but the last part is most dangerous for the student. It's another reason he was glad to go to the hold. To make things right with the gods, to gain the perspective and peace even if it would have been better if he hadn't gotten tangled up in a job that reminded him of why he'd left Skyhold in the first place.

No matter, Kain knows what's involved and if Asher doesn't put him through it he'll do it himself or he'll find someone else, so it's Asher's responsibility to see him through to the end.

Mostly healed by now, he tracks the other man down, setting a rough hand on his shoulder to give him a shake.

"C'mon, it's past time by now if you still want to commit to this. We'll go somewhere with a bit of quiet first though."

Perhaps it surprises no one more than Morrigan herself that she has grown strangely fond of Gwenaelle in so short a span of time but she is quite unlike so many of the young Orlesian ladies, and that is even when the marked hand is ignored, and they had made an agreement to one another prior to the malady that had inflicted itself upon Skyhold. Once again it lumbers, unseemly, unsightly, ungainly, teetering from one impending disaster to another but there are snatches of calm and she takes one, seeking the young lady in question out with one of her rare smiles and knock on the door.

"I have made time, if it suits of course," she says by way of greeting, because she always arrives when she pleases, a prerogative of witches wherever they go. "I am glad to see you well and recovered, though I suppose tis better a sickness than another rift or abomination deciding to tear through the gardens or the hold."

Any message that contains eluvian tends to have Leliana assuming that there is something dire to be discussed, something important and pressing and possibly dangerous. She is not, as a general rule, accustomed to messages that are not urgent in some way, and so when Morrigan asks her to meet with her she attends quickly, moving with long, silent steps.

The steps shorten, slow, and stop when she observes Morrigan in the garden, Leliana's brow catching with a concerned furrow before she reminds herself to approach.

"I thought some calamity had descended on us," Leliana finally says, announcing her arrival in a way her silent steps will not. "Though perhaps I was mistaken." Unless Morrigan has taken to reading in times of crisis, which is not without possibility.

News of Asher's return quickly spreads, especially in regards to his state upon arrival. Korrin wastes no time in heading over to the healing tents, knowing the route especially well by now since her multiple escape attempts. Concern manifests as irritation and when she bursts into the area, ignoring anyone trying to shoo her away.

"Asher, what the hell?!?"

As much as Korrin has lived with magic for most of her life, shaped it, learned to control it, some forms are only known to her by word of mouth, not direct experience. So it was with shapeshifting, until Skyhold gained a batch of new Shapeshifters thanks to Morrigan. She doesn't have to struggle with incredulity, but it's still a new experience and thus fascinating.

Thus nudged, Korrin glances down and grins. "Oh, it's very real. Ellana and Twisted Fate made that very clear. It originates outside the Circle, so as you can guess, the Chantry people aren't too fond of it. If a mage can shapeshift, they can go anywhere, after all.

And before you ask, I'm pretty sure it's not for me. Even so, I can see its use, and it's awesome to watch."

The past couple of weeks have mostly been spent apart, with only a few days in between. It's not what Korrin would call ideal by any stretch, especially since that promise and her conversation with Cyril linger in her mind, but she can be patient. There's important work to be done, on both ends, and neither are so faint of heart that some time away will break them. It makes reuniting all the sweeter, though.

That Korrin is once again in full health only adds to the anticipation. She hates that those last recent memories included her being whiny and helpless, too fevered to do much of anything but get in trouble or be dead to the world for a time. Now that time well past, the journey with Twisted Fate giving her a much-needed chance to stretch those legs and get away from the cold mountain air. Returning to it more hale than when she left, Korrin nonetheless doubles down on her training routine, as it gives her something to do other than give in to the mounting temptation to seek out Araceli over the sending crystals. As much as she craves her kadan's voice, Korrin the bard can't afford frequent distractions.

It's from one of those training sessions that Korrin returns to her quarters, ready to strip down and perhaps go soak in the hot spring for a while. Now that the plague has been resolved, she needn't fear its waters any longer. However, her thoughts are instantly derailed as those arms slip around her from behind, that sweet voice sending a shiver down her spine. Her smile wide even before she turns around, Korrin's eyes light up as the one person she's wanted to see is finally returned. "Welcome back, Kadan." Underscoring just how much Araceli was missed, she wastes no time taking the smaller woman into her arms, bending down to meet those lips with hers at long last.

Ellana is sorely tempted to already be in her form as she awaits Araceli and Korrin in the grove where she first showed the latter what she could become, but she resists. She doesn't want to change back and make Araceli's heart seize. So she sits under a tree, humming a tune and tapping her fingers in the air as she tries to remember the chords of the latest lute song she's learning. There are so many lessons she's taking right now that it seems she's always practicing something.

But when her friends appear, she drops her hand and offers a friendly smile.

"All ready to see me change?"

The rumor has spread far enough to reach Ellana's ears, and she has to wonder at it. Could it really be what they say it is? She knows how stories get twisted in the retelling, and Ellana is the type to go straight to the source to find the truth of things, as she did with Leliana and her views of freedom. And since Morrigan has always been good to Ellana, she doesn't see the harm in coming to talk to her about this.

"Andaran atish'an," she greets, using the formal as a sign of respect to her teacher. "I heard a rumor, and thought I'd see what's true and what's not."

At least this particular student is one of the most serious-minded that Asher is likely to deal with. Kain wouldn’t have even approached him about such a matter if he didn’t intend to see it through, and to deal with any difficulty that may come of it. He’s spent the past month in intensive training, minus a week where he’d been stuck recovering from that annoying illness. Still, even despite that he’s been able to put a considerable effort into his preparations. Jumping is so second nature to him that it hardly requires the same level of practice, anyway, so he’s made it a point to spend more time on the ground, honing the type of fighting that will be required of him. There’s only one more step left to complete it…

When Asher shakes him, Kain looks over at him with an immediate nod. "I’m ready, let's go." He’s already come this far, and he knows it’ll be a point of no return soon enough. He’s set his mind to this. No backing out now. “Tell me what I must do, and I’ll do it.”

As for Kain, he’s been busy getting up to speed after that whole bout with the mysterious spirit fever. Most of his time has been devoted to training, preparing himself so he’s strong enough to handle the dragon’s blood. But after a while of that, he decides he could really use some time up on the battlements. Some jumping, of course, and running along the battlements… he just wants to feel the wind in his hair as he dashes along at some great height, at this point. A week or so of being forced to rest had made him miss it dearly.

He nearly runs into Araceli when he first arrives. "It seems we meet again up here…"

Kain had kept from asking any questions while they were off fighting Venatori. At the time, he’d been solely focused on seeing the mission through, doing his part to ensure they defeated their enemy and that they all made it out of there in one piece. He’s not one to question things too much when there are bigger concerns. But now that they’re back, he’s curious. Why were those warriors so interested in this item? That brute had been more than a challenge to beat.

So now, he approaches her, curious but not wanting to push things too far. He’ll see where he can go with it.

"I haven’t seen you around in a while." Not that she’s very easy to run into anyway, ever full of mysteries as she is. "Have things been well since our return?"

Spring is settling on the gardens like a pestilence, flowers blooming and leaves fanning and sprays of nose-itching nonsense at a slow-moving drift in the air. It isn't Sabine's favourite, who, days like these, misses streets and shingled rooftops and other commercial spaces that Skyhold can emulate but doesn't quite achieve the same flow of a living, breathing town.

She hadn't planned on talking to Empress Celene's Arcane Advisor with an itching red nose, is the point.

But here she is, under the guise of errand; a basket half-filled with cooking herbs, a few root vegetables all the same earthy colour, the filth of which is gathered under Sabine's nails and on the hem of her humble skirts. Red curls, distinctive as they are, spiral in flyaways out of her plait that had been tighter when she'd begun. Long, narrow ears poke out from loosely bound tresses.

She looks at Morrigan, blinking nervousness out of dark hazel eyes, to be replaced with a more brazen up and down assessment.

"I hear you are a surveyor of elven things," she says, finally, easing in, her accent distinctly Orlesian, and not very courtly. She sets the basket down at her feed, cleaning off her hands on her skirt. "This is true?"

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Page 1 of 14

open; Give me a field, give me a big sky

araceli, open;

morrigan; open;

asher; open;

closed; morrigan & leliana; eluvian

closed; araceli & korrin

closed; asher, sam & christine

closed; morrigan & sam; shapeshifting

closed; asher & kaisa

closed; araceli & beleth

closed; morrigan & sabine

closed; asher & mal

closed; araceli, korrin & ellana

closed; asher & merrill

closed; asher & kain

closed; morrigan & gwenaelle

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ii. let's run around the battlements!!!

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