faderift | [open] we are bound for an unknown destination

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[open] we are bound for an unknown destination

WHO: Sina and you!
WHAT: General open; Sina has had some bad news, but is choosing not to dwell on it in favor of throwing herself back into her work within the Keep.
WHEN: throughout Bloomingtide
WHERE: Skyhold, always Skyhold
NOTES: Likely some death and illness related stuff. Anything else will be added as we go!

i. the battlements

The expedition is leaving for the Western Approach, as they do. A small, solitary elf stands atop the battlements facing the bridge, waving wistfully, watching them go as she has each time her friends have gone off on Inquisition business.
It is likely Sina will never go with them. It is likely she will never leave Skyhold at all.

She continues to stand there, looking out at the Frostbacks, long after the procession has gone.

ii. the healing tents

Now that she's back on her feet for the most part, after being knocked off them by malady after plague after injury, Sina has devoted her skills to the healing tents. Although the garden is still her preferred place to work, she finds that she doesn't want to be alone, and instead immerses herself in the highly social and mentally busying task of tending to the sick.
Despite being a mage, her assistance is mostly herbal. One never knows what might happen, if she should use her magic too much.

iii. the garden

Sina does still take time to rest and enjoy the garden, sometimes planting and trimming and harvesting, other times simply sitting still and silent on a bench as the evening settles around her.

iv. the library

Often seen either in the vicinity of or working on something for Pel or Adelaide, Sina will tuck herself up by one of the windows, books surrounding her and her thin hands splotched with ink as she takes notes. She tends to be in better spirits at these times, always cheered by the impenetrable complexity of various runes and inscriptions in need of translation.
She's not even that good at it, she just enjoys the puzzle.

v. wildcard

you know how this works

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It isn't unusual to see Gwenaëlle on the battlements; she finds her way here routinely, summoned by clear air and restlessness, an inability to settle and a need to be somewhere she can easily slip away from again if she needs to. People up here tend to have jobs, or reasons of their own for solitude; she stays mostly out of the way, and mostly isn't bothered. There are a few places she's marked out for being ideal as quiet space to work if she needs it, but...

She watches the procession, too. She doesn't wave; she doesn't have a lot of friends here. She does study the elf near her for a moment, taking in the vallaslin...the shard. Her fist clenches around her own and she thinks about how much worse it could have been, apparently.

"Did you want to go?"

A blunt question asked of a stranger, but 'Orlesian nobility' is likely to account for the presumptuousness of clearly expecting an answer.

Sina wasn't expecting to hear a voice so close to her, and she gives a small start, turning to see who addressed her. It's someone she's never seen before: a human woman, which would have alarmed her months ago, but she has no real reason to fear them now.

"...I don't know," she honestly admits, "I want to someday. But there will be rifts."

Korrin's making a round of goodbyes before it's time to head out, though Sina unintentionally makes that difficult. Surprised not to find her in the garden or library, she asks around until hearing about the battlements. Wasting no time, she heads over, not quite as careful not to knock people in the process as usual, but fortunately no accidents happen. Upon spotting her friend at last, the Vashoth woman smiles and waves as she closes in.

"Getting ready to enjoy the procession?"

She has seen Sina in the library more than once, and she would have stopped to speak with her if she had time. Sina is a woman of some strength of character, she thinks, and someone who Leliana suspects she would rather like, if she had the time to do things so whimsical as liking people.

After a day of tactics and meetings and writing letters and reading letters and generally concentrating so hard that her mind feels that it could fracture and her eyes feel strained, Leliana descends from the tower, and for once it is not to go the War Table. Instead she moves towards the garden, inhaling deeply and enjoying the subtle warmth (it is spring, but they are still in the Frostbacks) that has slowly started to sink into it.

"I am glad to you back in the garden." It was, after all, where first they had spoke, brief as it had been. "How do you feel?"

Sina turns when she sees Korrin approaching, and doesn't hesitate long before stepping forward to wrap her thin arms around the much larger woman.
"I know you have to go," she murmurs, in a rare moment of childlike insecurity, "but I wish you didn't."

Sina tilts her head at the sound of Leliana's voice, and she offers a small, weary smile in return. She rather likes Sister Nightingale; she has, thus far, proven a worthy ally.

"I'm fine," she says quietly, evading the topic, "I wanted to thank you. For your help with Clan Franduil. ...it means everything, that you're so willing to do this."

The hug is a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. Korrin slips those much thicker arms around her, taking care not to crush her smaller friend but returning the warmth all the same. "I'll be fine, you'll see. And if you need to talk, I'm only a sending crystal away.

The evasion is not lost on Leliana, of all people, but she just nods. Some things to not need to be teased or demanded out of people.

"Of course." It is not necessary to thank her, Leliana might note, but that does not seem the right thing to say in these circumstances. "Where there is leverage peace is comparitively easy, even if it is only tentative at first." Where there is fear applies as well, perhaps more specifically to her skills - again, she is not going to touch on that, for now.

As she ever does, Araceli doesn't bother with the stairs, and because it might be her last chance to get some decent climbing in for a while since she isn't entirely sure what she'll find out in the Approach. She pops up over the battlements just in time to see Korrin in Sina's arms, watching with a smile before she swings herself over the ledge, clearing her throat after a few moments.

"Sorry to intrude," she lies rather blatantly because she's not, approaching with a smile, her new dragon tooth necklace swinging as she moves, "but I'm feeling a little left out, stop hogging her Korrin."

"There will."

Gwenaëlle-- didn't want to go. She wants to leave Skyhold, certainly, but less keenly than she did when she first arrived, and not to run full tilt into peril. There's nothing useful she can do somewhere like the Western Approach (and, uncharitably, she thinks it unlikely this small thing would be any more useful - small, as if she's any bigger, all of an inch difference in their heights), and on some days she suspects there's not really anything useful she does here.

"Well," after a moment, "not forever, one way or t'other. Either the Inquisition succeeds or the world fucking ends," a bit droll.

With the sudden appearance of Araceli, Sina forces herself to break from Korrin so she can hug the human now. "Be careful," she breathes, her skinny arms now wrapping around Araceli's form.
"I know you'll look after each other."

Sina gives her an odd look-- leverage?-- but then, she's not so naive as to not understand Leliana's role to at least some degree. The thought of what might have happened leaves a bad taste in her mouth, but she reasons that it was between the humans, as her role own role was with the elves.

"...of course," she echoes, a little uneasily nonetheless. As much as she respects Leliana, she knows it would be most unwise not to fear her at least a little.

"As you wish, kadan." Stepping back, Korrin smiles as Araceli's embraced. Fortunately, she doesn't have to cake nearly as much care when it comes to hugging Sina. "Damn right we will, and that's a promise. If there's anything you'd like us to bring back -ourselves aside- let us know. I'll see what I can do on that front."

Rydia is still getting settled in Skyhold and Kain is leaving for the Western Approach so there she is, wrapped in a long, warm (and bright green) mantle, looking at the leaving group of people. The summoner would have joined, at least to enjoy the company of her old comrade, but Rydia is aware of how magic is... different, there, and she's still testing all her spells and abilities to see what works and what should be avoided- not something she can do during a mission, right?

She waits there until they disappear behind the mountains and then sighs loudly. Next time she will definitely join them, as much as she enjoys a peaceful life Rydia isn't the kind of person who sits around when someone needs help.

"Do you think they'll be back soon?"

She didn't even look in the elf's direction but there's someone nearby and Rydia isn't a person who likes to stay silent for too long.

Don't worry, Sina, she'll leave blackmailing and threats against the Dalish to the Dalish. Humans have had more than enough of a hand in such things. (Although, if it were necessary, she would still Knife The Fuck out of them. Still, she is glad it was not necessay.)

Perhaps a change of topic is in order.

"Are you working on anything particular?" A general inquiry, unless Sina is in fact visibly working on somethibg in the garden - then it might be coupled with a little nod.

Not forever. Sina wonders if she will see either outcome, or if her forever will end before they can even begin. She offers a strained smile in the woman's direction, then turns her head to look out again, clearly not too enthusiastic about continuing that line of dialog. Everyone will die, or they won't. But she probably will either way.

Hearing the unfamiliar voice from nearby, Sina wearily turns to look, and gives a small start at the sight of the girl's... green... hair. Green? Is that... a thing that can happen?

Sina finds herself just staring, completely forgetting that she was asked a question.

Sina blinks at Leliana, then looks around her, realizing with a small smile what she's being asked. "Just... the usual business," she says, "trimming, guiding the growth. As much as I can, anyway. There's always something to be done." Which doesn't quite account for why she's sitting here idly, but it is towards the end of the day, after all.
"The healing tents have cleared up quite a bit. It's nice to see that the fever has gone."

Rydia smiles in her direction once she realizes what the elf is looking at. Yeah, they're quite unusual even in her homeland and it's not the first time someone stopped to look at her peculiar... green bush and the best way to deal with it is... completely ignoring the issue and distracting them. And in the meanwhile distract herself from the fact that she had to sit behind this time.

"By the way, my name is Rydia" She offers her hand to the other woman, after all the summoner should start making new friends "I just arrived here." And her only trusted companion is leaving, which is... annoying.

"A relief for all of us," Leliana agrees. She had no desire to see an instance such as the fever repeated, and trying to gather information on how such a thing could be avoided or more quickly solves was on her list of never ending things to see done. It prickles at her, the quiet reminder, but she does not yet look back to the Rookery tower.

"When you guide the growth is that--" She frowns, trying to remember. "Are those techniques you learned from your clan, or normal gardening?" For a brief moment Leliana is allowing herself to be curious, not quite smiling, but momentarily softer. "Plants always seem a great wonder to me, but I would not trust myself with their survival."

The placement of Sina's shard is rather - striking. Some of them, Gwenaëlle thinks, will probably die sooner than others. It isn't kindness that stays her from commenting as much out loud into the awkward silence that descends between them, but the chill thought of how little they know about these things they bear in their bodies. To take for granted what it is readily apparent is to accept that there is something in her own self she can't control, doesn't understand, and that might kill her -

Just slower. Maybe they'll have solved it, by then. Some fucking blessing, Andraste. Bless your own arse, she thinks, sourly, laying her palms flat on the stone. What good has it done anyone? What good did it do the Herald? If she was blessed. If she wasn't just - there. Like Gwenaëlle had been, in the wrong place at the worst time.

"How did it happen?" she asks, abruptly, and this time she is conscious of the rudeness of the question. Sounds conscious of it. Acknowledges it without letting it stop her. "For you. You didn't go near the rift on purpose."

She assumes. She considers herself slightly generous for assuming.

Realzing she's being rude, Sina steps forward to offer her hand back. "Siuona, First of Clan Dahlasanor," she greets automatically, then hesitates and adds "Sina," with a small smile. "...you're a rifter?"

Sina seems surprised by the question, but not offended. "It's... some of it is Keeper magic," she admits, glancing around a bit in case Cassandra is lurking behind a shrub to find proof that maybe Sina isn't always entirely vigilant about having a Templar nearby when she's using magic. But this is magic she knows, not something unfamiliar that she doesn't know how to summon properly.

At first Sina doesn't know what Gwen means, and she turns to look at her quizzically. Then the detail about the rift is added, and she understands. Although her expression doesn't overtly change, something about it becomes ...somehow older, thinner, more tired.

"It opened above me," she answers quietly, "...I... think around the time the Breach did." She has no proof of that, but based on how long it took her to get here, the timing seems right.

Stroking Sina's hair, she allows herself to be more fierce with her embrace than she has been for so long since Sina's finally out of a tent, away from the gardens, actually out and about in Skyhold proper. It does her heart good to see her like this even if they're going to be gone again.

"We'll speak on the crystals, I promise. Although I think gifts might be of the animal hide, bone, and teeth variety, deserts don't really have markets unfortunately." But what girl could say no to a necklace of hyena teeth, that's probably all the rage somewhere in Thedas.

Sina shakes her head, but not hard enough to loosen Araceli's hand from her hair. There's nothing she wants, other than their return. "Just come back safe," she reiterates, hesitates, and adds, "...with stories."

Magic - she is aware of the guidelines laid down by Cassandra, and as such Leliana Definitely Does Not smirk at the glance and the admission. She also Does Not drop her voice, gently conspiratorial. "Your secret's safe with me."

That gets Korrin to chuckle softly and closes in for a hug sandwich, careful not to crush either the tiny human or elf. "That will definitely happen. Whatever's going to happen there, it won't be boring." Definitely true, though at the moment she has no idea how much 'not boring' will equate to 'traumatizing'...but that's for later.

Gwenaëlle is older than Sina - a little, a handful of years - but an outside observer of this moment would be unlikely to pick it. The things she had to grow up for are different, and the world has not asked this much of her before. It hasn't asked nearly as much of her as it does someone like Sina.

That's just as things are. Probably, it's just as things always will be.

"Some rifter girl on the crystals thought it was only them. The rifters. I suppose no one told her about the Herald."

"One day I'm sure you'll be able to come with us." Even just a short trip - Araceli finds herself going mad trapped in Skyhold, standing on the rooftops or battlements, peering out of windows, an itch under her skin to run, to be anywhere else. "A supply caravan might be too open but something closed in so you wouldn't be too exposed, a little change of scenery, warmer air…"

Maybe that's selfish of her, since none of them know if Sina will ever be able to go but technically since Araceli's made an approach to Leliana about working with the mage council, she could possibly swing it as vouching for her and watching her with someone else. Even just somewhere a little further down from Skyhold.

"If a dragon swoops down and attacks the camp again now you've said that, you're sleeping in the stables for a week. Sina you are my witness to these words."

This would be the part where they'd all laugh like Tidus except the Fade is way more traumatic.

The summoner certainly doesn't seem to mind and her smile grows only wider.

"Pleased to meet you, Sina. And, yes, I'm a rifter from the Blue Planet, I arrived with the last group of arrivals. You're a local, aren't you?" She has seen other elves in the camp, quite the curious and fragile looking people, but.. who is she to judge anyway? Rydia's barely got any muscle on her bones and she's seen many of them handle weapons she wouldn't probably be able to lift...

At first Sina is wary, because Leliana knows-- but she also knows that Leliana is likely not the type to lie, and the woman's assurance garners a small smile in response.
"Would you like to see the wisteria?" she asks, after a short pause. There's no real reason for it-- it's just one of the few things she planted in the garden for fun, to give it a personal touch.

Sina watches her dumbly, then bites her lower lip, considering. "I suppose not," she says quietly, "...I wish... we knew how the acquisition differs. How others get theirs, versus how I got mine." She touches it carefully, the thrumming magic crackling as her fingers near it. "...everyone else has them in their hands." A defeated smirk accompanies this. There are some fairly easy conclusions to be drawn about what the consequences might be.

Sina doubts Araceli's reassurance as much as anyone else would, but she keeps on a brave face for now. There's no sense in causing worry. "We'll see," she decides instead, and has the wherewithal to laugh about the dragon. "I'll enforce it," she decides, smiling up at Korrin as if there's any conceivable way she could force her to do anything, with or without magic.

"I would," Leliana replies, and surprises even herself with it. Whimiscal indulgences might, however, have their place in trying to gain (re-gain? earn?) the trust of the Dalish and the other elves following Galadriel and everything else in history, and so she does not overly chastise herself.

"Are they a favourite of yours?"

Sina has one distinction from the majority of locals: she has a shard glittering in her chest, much like the rifters have in their hands. "Yes," she answers, "I've been at Skyhold for..." She pauses to think. Could it really be half a year? Her eyes go a bit distant.
"...for a while," she decides. "Is it the sort of thing you're used to?"

Sina shakes her head with a shrug and a grin. "I wasn't familiar with them before I arrived," she admits, "we scarcely have time to plant creeping vines where we set up camp, and... well, I'm not sure if there's a use for these." She beckons Leliana over as she goes toward the gazebo, which has a small, viney growth about two feet up. "But they're pretty. And I've never grown anything just because it's pretty, so it's... a bit of a joke, I suppose." She smiles at the vines, resting her hands against the pillar that bears them. "...but I like them. I think they'll make the garden look nice."

"Planting things for pleasure is one of the joys of freedom, I think. To have the time and the opportunity for beauty over pragmatism alone is not to be overlooked."

For others, of course, not for herself. She has the opportunity and the time. She has the priviledge, it could be said. She must look to other things, but Sina has lived a very different life to Leliana.

"They will indeed. Wisteria are exquisite - I am not convinced you could have made a finer choice."

"It's probably the angle."

Gwenaëlle glances at her, after a pause - she hasn't bothered, since first looking at her and registering who she was. (Not by name, per se. But the elf with the shard in her chest, yes, that's sort of hard to miss. And not exactly something that goes unmentioned.)

"I don't remember, precisely. But I think my hand was up. If you were directly under it, I mean...well, it's not your face. There's that."

A shard to the face. Maybe she'd have died straight away. It isn't the sort of thing they can get someone to test.

"Freedom," Sina echoes thoughtfully. She'd never considered that word before, in this context. But perhaps Leliana didn't mean it the way Sina is inclined to interpret it.
She beams in response to the woman's compliment, straightening a bit, perhaps even blushing a little. "Do you have any favorites? I could find a place for them."

There is that. And the thought of having the thing in her face is enough to send a chill down Sina's spine, which, ironically enough, prompts a pang in her chest where the shard is.
"Probably," she agrees, finding that she doesn't want to discuss it anymore. She looks back out at the departing travelers, her spirits dampening further.

"Me?"

The question rather surprises her, but hardly requires much thought. "Andraste's Grace," she allows. "I am very fond of Andraste's Grace."

Zevran had gifted her with some in a pot for the Rookery a time ago, but when the Anders betrayal occurred it had angered her to have something she adored reminding her of such a betrayal, and she had it removed. Quite where it was now, however, was a mystery.

"Andraste's Grace," Sina repeats, thinking back. "...I'm not sure I know of it, but perhaps I simply know it by a different name." Like anyone in her clan would actually name a thing after Andraste.

"I'll see what I can do," she says quietly, a bit playfully.

"Perhaps," Leliana agrees, smile a little wry. "I am afraid that is the only one I know it by. I did see it growing in the Brecilian Forest when we visited it during the Blight."

She senses more than hears one of her scouts approaching - Bonheur, an elvhen woman with pale blonde hair - and they exchange a nod before Leliana looks to Sina. "I am afraid business calls me elsewhere. Perhaps we can speak another time, Sina." A pause, and then, "Do let me know how you go with the flowers."

"Another time," Sina agrees, and lifts a thin hand in farewell. "I will."

Leliana's farewell is silent, a nod and a not-smile before she moves away.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[open] we are bound for an unknown destination

battlements.

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Battlements, just before leaving? (Open to Araceli)

garden.

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yo!

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battlements

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