faderift | [OPEN] I live my life in shackles but I'm borderline free

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[OPEN] I live my life in shackles but I'm borderline free

WHO: Fenris and Anyone
WHAT: A starter open log to get stuff going with folks? Bear with me, please!
WHEN: Anytime this month / Justinian
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Feel free to jump in and start some stuff with me? I’m new and I have no idea what’s going on >>;;;
Also: All CR with Fenris is fresh unless you’ve spoken to me (which you can still go do) here. ty!

BATTLEMENTS
Nighttime; late. It’s dark, a few scattered torchlights flicker in the distance, lanterns shine in windows below, but mostly there are stars. Multitudes of them dusting the wide sky. Very few people are up and about at this hour at all, a guardsman making rounds; it isn’t hard to overlook the shadow of an elf stretched out on the parapet, arms folded behind his head, a pair of eyes to catch glinting in the moonlight. Fervanis is rising and Fenris maps its branches, lost enough in thought that approaching footsteps aren’t likely to be heard until they’re very close upon him.

HERALD’S REST (first floor)
Mid-afternoon is a good time to occupy the tavern if one wants to drink but also wants to avoid the boisterous throng of the evening time congregation. Fenris can be found sitting alone at a corner table, a flagon of cheap swill barely touched and getting warm as it sweats onto the table. He has a map and some writing implements out and is working away in his shaky handwriting, the marks he’s making not actual legible language but an odd system of shorthand symbols that only make sense to him. He’s been here a while by the looks of it, blinking with eyestrain and possibly not opposed to a break and a fresh beverage.

VAULT LIBRARY
Fernis’ favorite place he’d found in Skyhold. He’s been spending a lot of time down here. Dank, mouldering, isolated, and ‘homey’, if you asked him. Could use a few corpses, but he took what he could get. Today he’s sitting in the floor on the dusty rug, mindless of the cobwebs, armor shed and scattered around him while he cleans it meticulously, wiping the dried brown blood out of the crevices and buffing the metal with oil until it reflects the eerie light of the room. He looks different without his spiky armor but no less recognizable, lyrium tattoos exposed and hoary bangs falling into his face as he works.

other
[Something random? Feel free to start a thread or PM/Plurk me for something custom, okies? <3]

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"Apologies, startling you was not my intention." He sounds a little amused regardless, but is glad at least she didn't scream and summon the guard unnecessarily, brining the inconvenience of explaining their presences, however innocuous. Upon second inspection Fenris can see that she's a little bit frazzled, jumpy with tired eyes. The telltale signs of nightmares, he concludes without having to stretch.

Long familiar with night terrors and tormented dreams himself, Fenris is understanding. He's inappreciative of prying on the whole though, and so instead goes on, lowering his arm to pillow his head again. "There's some debate as to whether the Neromenians or the Elvhenan are responsible for the origin of 'the Oak'. Is it representative of of the idea that all things possess souls, even rocks and trees, or does it depict the Elven goddess of the Hunt? I feel that I should know her name to say it, but I don't. A daughter of Mythal, I think."

She pulled her gaze away from the night sky to look at his shadowy form, trying to make more of him out in the pervading gloom. Her vision was not nearly as well suited as his, so she mostly saw a glint of pale hair, the gleam of his eyes and more or less a lump she assumed was his body. It was at least enough to go on.

From listening to his speech, she could tell that he wasn't from Ferelden or Orlais and so assumed then that he must be a kindred spirit in the form of a Marcher, or at least someone who hailed from north of the Waking Sea. It gave her some small comfort to think that, allowing her to relax further.

"You are quite knowledgeable on the stars. You certainly know more than I do about the constellations and the myths behind them." Her wits were finally returning now, despite the late hour. The idea of engaging someone in an intellectual discussion seemed to add some vigor to her as she looked up again towards the sky. "I think everything has a soul in some way or another. If not a tree itself, but then perhaps the forest it is part of."

"I'm no expert, I just enjoy them enough to have paid attention." Fenris pushed himself up to lean on one elbow, a gauntlet scraping lightly as he shifts. Looking over at her she's returned her gaze upward and Fenris followed it, tipping his head back. "That isn't in the Canticles," he dares, more conjecture, but he recognizes her accent in turn- he's spent enough time in and around the Free Marches- and it's easy to chance the assumption that she is Andrastian. "Not that it goes against Andraste's teachings of course, it's just not a common sentiment."

Interesting. He sits up more fully and drops a leg to the inside of the wall, pulling the other up so that his knee is tucked to his chest. "So what defines a soul, do you think? And why does a forest have one but not necessarily a tree?" It's a pretty heavy question to pose in middle of the night to someone he's yet to even learn a name, but he's spent long enough wrapped in his own sinuous thoughts tonight that theoretical theology with a stranger is actually a nice escape.

His comment made her frown slightly, wondering if it might have been a slight directed at her lack of knowing. His attitude didn't appear to be condescending however so she quickly chalked any misgivings up to her lack of sleep. It was a correct assumption that she was indeed one of the faithful, as it might be hard to find anyone in Skyhold who was not, short of the Dalish or the odd Avvar. And her idea might have been heretical.

"The Maker made the world did he not? And I've read that Dwarves speak of the stone as if it was alive. So why not something which provides us with so much?" She shrugged her shoulders and shifted positions slightly so that she could look at his shadowy shape now that he was no longer horizontal. Here int he dark it was easy to talk with someone not knowing who or what they were. It was almost cathartic in a way. Two strangers given the anonymity of the night to speak freely. He might be able to recognize her in the light of day, but she would not know him unless he spoke.

"As for why I think a forest as opposed to a single tree... well, a forest is full of life. You cut one tree down and the forest can still live. The loss of the tree does not hurt the forest any more than a nick from a knife does the body. Cut down enough of the trees or dam a river so it no longer flows and the forest might die. So too is it with a body and the soul of a person."

Nodding slowly, Fenris considers this. As far as he's concerned there is no right or wrong answer and he won't judge her beliefs- he's merely curious, turning the opinion over in his mind. "'She'," he agreed, reaching for what he knows of Dwarven belief. "They don't worship Her, the Stone, but they are a part of Her and She sustains them, something like that?" He sees the woman's point even if he doesn't quite personally subscribe.

Of it being somewhat liberating to talk to a stranger under the cover of darkness though, he fully agrees. He looked over at her again and he does feel he as somewhat of an unfair advantage considering his eyesight and that he could sense from her first approach that she is a mage. It doesn't have much bearing up here right now really, but it might in the day. He isn't actually sure and doesn't care to consider it, much happier to continue a pleasant conversation which is a rarity in itself. At least for him.

"So do these souls pass through the Veil or return to the Void when the forest dies, so to speak? Or are they immortal like the Stone?" He grunted suddenly and shook his head, deciding not to try and pursue this further as he'd not intended to lead into an actual splitting of religious hairs and he doesn't know how to continue on without departing neutrality.

"Sorry, these are probably topics better left to... well, whoever, but not me. I'm just going to get dour and drive you away. Please, let's go back to the stars."

The correction about the Dwarven faith-- or whatever it was, was taken with a nod of acceptance as she filed that information away. She knew her knowledge on Dwarves was limited, and clearly her shadowy companion had a greater worldly knowledge than her, so she chose to accept him at his word.

Despite being an Andrastian, she honestly didn't feel there was enough questioning of beliefs-- at least in regards other races. This was the most open she had been with anyone in regards to faith and belief. And with good reason considering the views she held about the nature of souls, as well as her feelings towards fellow mages.

That he would cut off their discussion so quickly made her peer at him all the harder, trying to discern if she had somehow stumbled upon a Templar or one of the rare chantry brothers. Thoughts of the first made her nervous, which she sought to hide. Even now, she still was having a hard time accepting that there were templars here in Skyhold. Or perhaps her views had upset him?

"If that is what you wish. I'm sorry if this talk disturbed you. Consider it nothing more than the night ramblings of a restless mind."

Seeking to do as he suggested, she scoured the heavens trying to pick out something that even remotely looked like a constellation. "So if you know the shape of the stars, do you then also know the stories behind them?"

Eyebrows knitting, Fenris canted his head in confusion. Had he somehow given the impression that he was disturbed? Oh. "Kaffas, no," he murmured, and sighed. "You've misunderstood. You haven't said anything to upset me at all. It's the opposite actually, you see, a lot of people find me...off-putting. And my views regarding religion tend to get a bit dismal. I thought that I should try and steer back to something pleasant before I upset you." He fidgets his hands in his lap.

A beat passes. In the distance, a light flickers out.

"Yes, I know the stories. At least as they are told in the Imperium. Would you like to hear one?" He forces a smile, though it's probably too dark for her to see it. Fenris has never learned the skill of conversational subtlety or had a light touch when it came to...pretty much anything. He's used to being his own foil when it comes to this sort of thing. "I know, tell me your birth month and we'll start with your sky."

"Oh!" Despite the dark Sadira, blushed and glanced away slightly embarrassed she'd misread the situation. However, she peeked back towards his shadowy form out of habit than because she could make much out about him.

"You haven't offended me yet and besides a little debate, so long as it is healthy, is good for the mind. Maybe we can revisit this conversation another time? As for stories, this is a good night for them I think." Considering it was a restless night, it might as well be one to feed the mind that would not sleep. "Kingsway. Early Kingsway if that makes a difference to the stars."

Fenris relaxed palpably, his smile audible when he said "Good, in that case, I would like that." He shifted, righting himself full on the wall and stretching his legs out to the ground. "Kingsway. Let's see. Visus and Equinor. The Eye and the Stallion."

He hummed thoughtfully. "Visus for the early part." Fitting, he thought. "I'm sure you know this one but many do not know that it's origin is a Southern story. Avaar. Which, sadly, I'm not as well versed in but I do know the tale pertains to the Lady of the Skies, the Goddess of the Dead. Birds are her familiars and they carry her the souls of the departed. A bit grisly, really. The stars were named because it's said she opened one of her eyes and the light from it led her people through the Frostbacks. Different from the more common version in which the Maker's gaze led Andraste's warriors when they marched on Tevinter, and to victory." Pausing, Fenris crosses his ankles. This is possibly the most he's spoken at once in some months but he continues, his low voice stead and unhurried. "Which is of course where the first Inquisition drew it's sigil. The sword that intersects the eye is said to have been added because a new star appeared after Andraste's death. The Seekers and the Templars split the symbol afterward, one taking the sword, the other the eye."

This was also one of the longest conversations she'd had to date. It was refreshing, given how she'd accidentally stumbled upon him. As he talked, Sadira shifted as well, moving to lean against the parapet.

Although her eyes couldn't adjust much more to the gloom, the change in his position at least helped her to pick out a little more about him, though it was mostly the way he talked and how he moved against the stone that told her the most about him.

She loved to learn new things. Reading about them was best, lest her mind wander off mid-lecture, but she was genuinely interested in the tale he was telling. She did know Maker's gaze guiding Andraste on her march, but not of the avaar having a similar and possibly older tale as well. She waited until a little after he finished speaking to talk once more, "How very fitting. Perhaps I was always destined for this then. How did you come to know it was an avaar tale?"

"I was thinking that myself," he admitted and laughed, a deep chuckle. There was a small pause before he answered her next question, not because he was hesitant or ashamed to talk about his past- he's never been- but because it might change the nature of this strange interaction, neither of them have yet said much to break the little bubble of unreality out here in the ramparts. Still, he's been asked and he isn't one to skirt edges.

"My former master liked to tell tales when he was in a propitious mood. He studied many cultures and collected histories from all over Thedas."

It wasn't much of a stretch to figure out that he was from Tevinter then. Unless of course there was some other country that kept slaves that she didn't know about... though Qunari came close with the saarebas. By default, he was also the first person from there that she'd met. Not for the first time was she at a loss for what to say. He had been open and honest about the fact, but that didn't mean he wished to discuss it. It also seemed insensitive to ignore it like nothing had been said.

Aware the silence between them was growing, she cast aside her misgivings and decided to follow suit to the best of her abilities about being candid with him.

"I've never met someone whose been in that situation before, or at least if I have, it was never with one who was so open about it. I'll admit that I am a little at a loss for what to say." She wasn't very tactful, but it was better than pretending she knew what social graces to apply. Then a little as an afterthought, she added, "I will say one thing, though you've done well with what you learned."

Fighting a sigh, Fenris worried he'd managed to douse the atmosphere after all. He really did have a knack for doing that. He opened his mouth, about to attempt to politely give the mystery woman an easy out if she was looking for one, when she surprised him instead by barreling on with a sort of earnesty he couldn't help but find a little relieving.

"You don't need to say anything. It is what it is, I see no reason not to be forthright about it." Besides, it was something that had happened to him, and there was no disgrace in that. He can't actually imagine anyone who had been a slave trying to conceal it and it flares a little bright spark of the old familiar anger that the contempt of others would pressure them to try.

He shoved it aside and returned his concentration to the conversation at hand. "Thank you," he said, a little awkwardly. He wasn't exactly tactful either and was glad she wasn't putting on airs floundering around it. There was probably no proper social protocol for discussing this sort of thing and if there was, Fenris was sure he'd have hated it anyway. "Learning was one of the few things that brought me joy during that time. The things he studied that weren't..." monstrous. horrific. "deplorable kept me going." Knowledge was something nobody could take away.

That was some consolation knowing that she needn't say anything else. Perhaps if they really did speak again in the future, she might ask him some questions. For now, it was better to let the conversation flow onwards. She shifted slightly, deciding to turn her back to the parapet and scoot down so that she was sitting on the ground. While her mind continued on in leaps and bounds, her body at least was flagging at her interrupted sleep. Sitting at least was a compromise.

"That's how I felt as well." She hesitated, feeling that she could kill their amicable mood just as easily by admitting to being a mage. She didn't quite have the same level of openness as him when it came to her past due to people's wide and varied reactions. She decided to skirt admitting to being a mage outright for now. Figuring it was best to elaborate what she meant instead, "Learning things has always given me solace and helped me keep going. I may not have studied the stars or know avaar tales such as you, but I like to think I did alright."

It wasn't saying much in the end other than studying made her happy and she did feel ever so slightly guilty that she couldn't bring herself to say I studied magic. However if he figured it out, or the subject of what she studied came up, she vowed to herself to tell him.

"I'm sure that you did," he said, suppressing a snort of a laugh. She made it out to sound like he was some sort of an academic and the idea was far-fetched. He wanted to insist again that he was just a good listener, nothing more, but he'd gotten the impression that she was slightly belittled by his correcting her, even at his own expense.

Anyway, he would rather press on for more about her, suddenly feeling they were on somewhat uneven footing since he'd revealed something about himself. "Now you know something about me," he started gingerly hoping he wasn't pushing an unspoken boundary. "Tell me something about you." That seemed safe enough- leaving it open ended- leaving it to her to decide the nature and weight of it.

Sadira grew still for a moment, thinking about herself and what she might tell someone she just met. She was reluctant to mention being a mage, but there was little else she could talk about. Lying was out of the question as she was about as good at it as she was skulking through the shadows. No, the truth was easiest, even if it led somewhere painful.

"I grew up in the Free Marches, in Ostwick. My parents were not wealthy, but they wanted the best for me. Being devout, they made arrangements where I could enter the Chantry when I was old enough." Realizing that it made her sound like a chantry sister, she added with a soft sigh, "In the end they needn't have bothered. Circumstances arose and a different life was chosen for me."

It was dangerously close to admitting the truth, and yet it almost said nothing. Feeling cagey after his frank openness felt wrong. Raising her head up, she looked skywards to the stars once more, "I ended up at the Circle."

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[OPEN] I live my life in shackles but I'm borderline free

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