[OPEN] Welcome Back! Now Take a Bath.

[scalethewall]

WHO: Blackwall and you!
WHAT: Blackwall returns to Skyhold after being away for a few months
WHEN: Current?
WHERE: Around Skyhold, mostly the stables and the tavern
NOTES: none that I can think of... his intro is over here. prose or brackets are fine

i. Just arrived
It's midday when Blackwall and the small group of scouts and soldiers who'd been with him in the Storm Coast are spotted by one of Skyhold's lookouts making their way back up the mountain road. They're definitely not in a rush, but getting inside of the fortress' high walls and out of the whipping mountain winds is a relief. After weeks in the constant drizzle of the Storm Coast, dry clothing felt like an unattainable fantasy.

Muddy, damp, and worn out, Blackwall was looking even more unkempt and wild than when he'd first arrived in Haven. The Storm Coast seemed to have that affect on people; the others with him didn't look like they'd fared much better. He's a little surprised at how glad he is to be back, but why wouldn't he be? A change of clothes into something that isn't already soaked through with rain and a proper place to enjoy a drink, what's not to love?

ii. Sparring/Beating up practice dummies close to the stables
It doesn't take Blackwall long at all to fall back into a routine, which means getting some time in with a dull sword and a stuffed potato sack on a stick meant to look like a person. It's unusual for him to be in anything less than his full armor, which includes the puffy gambeson he always wears, but it's still hung up to dry by the fire in the stables, so this morning he's settled for a loose tunic and trousers.

Unlike some of the others whacking away at the dummies, his movements are calm and devoid of emotion, simply going through training exercises and focusing on form and technique. Training exercises are all well and good, but if someone actually offered to spar he'd be hard pressed to turn them down, especially after fighting nothing but bears and spiders in the mud for the past few weeks.

iii. Tavern
"Oh, pardon me," Blackwall offers, managing to sound completely genuine while fighting back a chuckle. It's late evening and the tavern is apparently the place to be. It's surprisingly easy to misjudge how close you are to someone after a few drinks and Blackwall misses the mark as he leans over the counter to signal for another pint, bumping a few people.

"Ale, like the last one," He tells the barkeep when he gets their attention before offering a slightly intoxicated smile while waiting.

iv. or choose your own adventure!
[Walking around Skyhold or find him in the stables... demand he come tour the Warden encampment and watch him squirm, or comment about how much he needs a haircut. I'm down for all the things :3]

Comments

Oh dear this got serious, I apologize.

[laurenande]

Of all of the people she had spoken to, in all her time in Thedas, Blackwall was the first to ask if there was a way back, to ask if anyone had sought such things out, and the question stuns Galadriel far more than it should have. She lingers at the entrance to the stables, but only for a moment, before moving to lead the other mounts to their stalls. As she works, she is silent, but she does answer him in time.

"I expect your people, indeed most people, would find my home very similar to these lands," Galadriel explains as she goes about removing the tack and saddles from the other mounts. "When I first arrived, I assumed I was still in Arda, but I quickly discovered that was not the truth of things.

"I attempted, in those early days, to use landmarks that no man, nor elf, nor living being of Arda would not know: great rivers, wide mountains, kingdoms of steel and stone, but none were familiar. Finally I resorted to a landmark that has long marred middle-earth.

"There is a great, barren land of shadow in the east. Within it an ancient enemy waits, restless and fitful. My lands lie on the border of that forsaken, accursed plain, and for thousands of years it has endured, darkening the very horizon and staining the sunrise that passes over it.

"No one in Thedas has heard of that place, nor its master, and I have found nothing, not even the barest whispers of it, in any tome that I have seen."

She talks as she works and, once she has removed the saddles and rested them on the sturdy stall railing, she pauses. Considers.

"I am very far from home, but if I am stuck here I do not know it." Galadriel adds and, while she attempts subtlety, she is pointedly not facing him as she continues.

"My power was the last safeguard of my people. The enemy has long sought my homeland and only by my arts was he kept at bay." Her voice is carefully even. "I have been gone far too long. My home has burned, already. To return would provide only the opportunity to bury myself alongside my people.

"I have no interest in seeking that road. Thedas is my home now, come good or ill."

[scalethewall]

If the silence or her delay in answering bothers him, he doesn't show it. Like her, he busies himself with removing the packs, saddle and bridle from his mount. The horse's body heat will dry it quickly enough, but he takes a moment to brush it down and throw a blanket over it's back. There's no reason to double check the food, his horse's head is already buried in it.

He's leaning against the half door to the stall she's in as she speaks of her homeland. Arda. Idly starting on his own equipment, he silently works the damp leather straps of his armor undone, brow furrowing more and more as she continued.

Being in a strange, foreign land was distressing enough, but... "Maker. I... didn't..." Of course, he hadn't known. He couldn't have. And, of course, he hadn't meant to bring up such a painful topic. "I'm sorry."

He hesitates, uncertain as to how to make amends for his mistake. "If there's anything..." He frowns as he trails off. It's a pointless sentiment. As if anything he could say or do would ease the pain she must be feeling.

[laurenande]

"Do not trouble yourself," Galadriel assures him gently, but she still faces away as she works. She has the pretense of brushing down the mounts available to her, and she takes it, transparent as it is. The horses do not seem to mind her lack of haste, not as they cheerfully eat and kneel in the straw.

"I shall endure, as I always have. I cannot even begrudge Thedas the use of my power; your need is as great as mine was."

When she finally turns to regard him again, her face is placid but not unkind.

"But I admit, I have seen few places outside Skyhold...and I expect the Emprise du Lion and the Fallow Mire are...singular examples. If you are not opposed to sharing accounts of the North, of elsewhere in Thedas, I would quite like to hear them."

[scalethewall]

Blackwall doesn't look convinced, not that she's chanced even the quickest of glances in his direction. He definitely feels like an ass now.

"Emprise du Lion isn't... the worst place. But the Fallow Mire. Egh," He shakes his head, happy to switch topics. Maybe a few colorful descriptions will be a good distraction. He might even get a smile out of her yet.

"The North is a lot warmer, a lot less rain, no festering swamps. A nicer climate in general, and usually that's a Northerner's first, and loudest, complaint when in the South. The second being that we're uncultured barbarians. Did you at least get some snow and to see the hot springs in Emprise?" Though if the Inquisition's forces were there, it meant there'd been trouble. Probably not a lot of time to take in the sights.

[laurenande]

His summary of the Mire, while brief, was entirely accurate. She had to assume that, despite a similar sort of brevity, his descriptions of the North were also accurate.

"Oh, there was certainly snow," Galadriel confirmed kindly, but in the manner of a person who spent far too long trekking across it.

"Snow and ice to fill an Age, I expect, but still not enough to drown out all the poisonous red rock that littered the hills." She could not help the note of frustration that crept into her tone, the Emprise had troubled her greatly, but she let the sentiment pass quickly enough. "But, I admit, it was a beautiful place, despite its troubles.

"I did not realize it held hot springs. They would have been a welcome change.

"I am curious, from whence did your party depart, if not one of the locations we have been aiding? A more distant outpost? With...somewhat less temperate weather?"

[scalethewall]

"In the mountains," He nods, "That's where the hot springs are."

He remembered being pleasantly surprised. It wasn't every day during a month long march that you came across hot springs and were allowed to make camp, to take some time to relax. It'd been brief, half a day and overnighting there, but it was one of his only fond memories of marching, especially through mountainous terrain.

"My party?" He's confused for a moment, because they had departed, naturally, from Skyhold. He realizes what she means after a moment. "Ah. We're returning from the Storm Coast. It's in Ferelden, up North. The Mires you visited are also in Ferelden, but South. Uh, no snow there, but, as the name might suggest, lots of rain. In fact, we were there nearly six months and there wasn't one dry day. With rain like that, nothing ever gets dried and everything is guaranteed to get wet at some point."

That reminded him of what he'd been doing and he continued to work on his armor. The sopping wet gambeson was probably ten pounds heavier than normal with all the water logged wool. It would take days to dry, he was sure. With it off, he was down to his pants and nondescript cotton tunic. Still, he felt like he should apologize for removing anything more than his sword and shield in her presence.

"And speaking of rain, I really need to get this situated by the fire to start to dry," It's a rushed explanation regarding the removal of the dense, puffy armored coat. He wasn't just undressing in front of her, he promised. And if it hadn't been wet, it'd still be on.

[laurenande]

Galadriel's brows rose in tandem as Blackwall began removing his clothing, but his quick aside provided clarity enough. She inclined her head and, in a moment of silence, considered the under-layer he'd stripped and held at his side. It would have been appropriate to excuse herself and, in so doing, allow him to recoup from his travels, but this was a simple thing. The offer was rather forward, particularly considering the lack of any imperative need, but he had granted her request at the cost of his own comfort. It seemed only right to offer assistance in turn.

"If I may," Galadriel said and held out an open hand. The white silk of her dress shifted silently and pooled at her elbow. Despite her earlier work and, indeed, her time in Skyhold, even the edges of the gown were crisp and clean.

"I believe I can assist in that and, perhaps, reserve the fire for your use."

[scalethewall]

He'd be the first to quickly point out that all of his clothing was very much still on. Just the armor. Just. The armor.

"Uh, you... don't need- I mean, I'm sure it smells. From being damp, not just... for no reason! The wool..." He stumbles through excuses, digging a deeper and deeper hole for himself until he finally just forces his mouth shut. Despite his protest, his immediate reflex is to obediently hand over the heavy armored coat when she holds out her arms.

"It'll take days to dry through," He added quietly, one last, meager attempt to dissuade her from stooping to help him. She's already taken care of his mens' horses after all.

[laurenande]

The padded piece of armor was considerably heavier than she'd expected and, while it wasn't beyond her, her arm still dropped a bit before she adjusted to the weight of it. She cast the garment an almost surprised look, in that moment, but the expression passed as she shifted it and settled it evenly across her arm.

"It is no trouble and, had you not reminded me of my time in the Emprise I would not have thought to offer this," Galadriel assured him and moved her marked hand over the fabric. Her ring was not visible, not to mortal men, but that did not render it ineffective--she slid her hand across the fabric and, despite the smothering sense of the veil, used the ring's power to draw the water from it.

It was overly dramatic, perhaps, pulling an amorphous mass of water into the air, but she could hardly just allow it to pour onto the ground and splatter them both in mud and dust. It took effort, to hold water in such a strange arrangement, but fortunately several buckets hung from pegs along the closest wall. She reached toward one and, with the air of someone setting a curio onto a shelf, released the water into it.

"Drawing water from wool is no terrible task," she added as she turned back to him and held the garment out. "Though, after the Emprise, I have become somewhat biased. So long as it is not freezing as I work, anything seems simple."

[scalethewall]

Some would consider the gambeson heavy all on it's own, even while dry, but after weeks of rain, the wool saturated with water, it had to be double the weight it normally was.

He doesn't follow what she's saying in reference to her time in the Emprise du Lion and, funny enough, magic actually hadn't been what he'd expected, especially not the amazing spectacle that she performs.

"I've... never seen anything like that. Fireballs, sure, but... that," It's a feat to think of anything to say after watching, wide eyed, as she floats water across the room. "I'll admit, I don't know that many mages, but that has be a trick from home. Impressive, to say the least.

Thank you. Like I said, I would've taken days... maybe a week."

[laurenande]

"It is no trouble, I have some affinity for water," Galadriel assured him and shifted the garment in her hands, folding it in half as she drew her arm out from beneath it. She held the garment back out for him and inclined her head. "You are welcome, nevertheless."

Once she had handed back the gambeson, unfortunately, there was little left for her to do. The horses were taken care of, she had assisted him with the drudgery of his sodden armor, and now she was left with little to occupy herself. She had time; time to ruminate on subjects that were best avoided and, inevitably, time to be caught out by her absent templar guard. If she did not return to them, it would not be long before they recovered sufficiently to come and locate her.

A pity.

"But I believe I have taken enough of your time, have I not? You have just returned and, surely, you are still weary from your travels." She folded her arms before her and her sleeves slid down and hid her hands amid the diaphanous fabric of her gown.

"Perhaps, once you are refreshed, we shall find the chance to speak again. I should like to hear more accounts of these lands and, already, I find that I enjoy your company."

[scalethewall]

He takes back the heavy armored coat, motions bordering on reverent as he lifts it from her arms. He's still a little stunned, preoccupied by her trick with the water.

"A little weary, sure, but I'd gladly welcome your company. I look forward to speaking with you again, m'lady. Next time I won't smell quite so strongly of wet horse, I promise," He says with a teasing, lopsided smile and a quiet chuckle.