faderift | OPEN: And you can shake the mountains with a whisper

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OPEN: And you can shake the mountains with a whisper

WHO: Hermione Granger and YOU!
WHAT: Hermione ventures out of the library. Sometimes. But she's also in the library most of the time, because she's Hermione.
WHEN: Late Justinian, creeping into early Solace if need be.
WHERE: Throughout Skyhold, just outside of Skyhold, pick a place far away from Skyhold and find a reason to drag her there.
NOTES: If you'd like a particular starter and/or would like to hash out some minor assumed CR that can lead into this, feel free to let me know either via PM or plurk (

StarryOblivion). Otherwise, feel free to have them randomly bump into one another!

The Herald's Rest.

Hermione doesn't often come in here, not since receiving an odd look when she'd first asked for just some water (really, given how young everyone here seems to think she is, she'd been surprised that the surly bartender had thought she'd wanted something harder). But sometimes it's a nice change of pace, sitting among the mostly quiet chattering of the other patrons and enjoying the fire as she reads or looks over her notes. Presuming, of course, that no one is foolish enough to have too much to drink and try to bother her. Talking is a distraction she'll accept with no fuss, but Merlin help anyone who's had enough alcohol to think she's open to anything friendlier than that.

Stables.

When she'd first arrived at Skyhold, the stables had seemed relatively empty and were a fine place for practicing her magic without risking hurting anyone. She'd thought she could do the same now, only to find that there are considerably more horses - and, er, other creatures - residing there. Magic might only frighten them, she decides, but they're so pretty that she can't help visiting with them for a bit, getting as close to them as she dares. It's been years since she's ridden a horse, but she's entirely certain that these mounts aren't exactly the type that would trot gently along a given course for an inexperienced rider, so she isn't even going to ask after something so silly, even if the interest is clearly there in her eyes.

Courtyard, not too far from the healing tents.

When the stables prove not to be the best place to practice with her magic, Hermione decides that it might be best to find a little corner close to the healing tents instead. At least then there would be other mages around, and so it was less likely that anyone who stumbled across her would look at her disdainfully. And if anyone gets hurt, a healer wouldn't be too far away. Of course, she highly doubts that anyone would get hurt just because she was unsuccessfully attempting to transfigure leaves and pebbles and whatever else happens to be in the vicinity. Transfiguration doesn't seem to be an aspect of her magic that's carried over into Thedas, or at least Hermione can't manage it without more practice, given that she's growing more and more frustrated as she continuously taps rocks and other objects with what looks like a stick, muttering to herself in exasperation.

Library. Because of course.

If you've been to the library, you've seen her. Whether you know her and enjoy talking to her about rifter politics or think it's entertaining to scandalize her or have never bothered to approach her, Hermione can more often than not be found in the same little niche in the library, nose in a book or a quill hastily scribbling down notes. Or even, occasionally, dozing off, since she hasn't exactly claimed any sort of sleeping space for her own and more often than not loses track of the time when she doesn't explicitly have somewhere to be.

Wildcard!

Hermione wanders, and while she tries to be careful, sometimes it takes her places she just shouldn't go. If it doesn't look like a private room or setting, it's safe to assume that the young witch has made her way there, likely looking for a quiet place to read or do magic or just to get a few moments of silence. And while she doesn't often journey outside of Skyhold, she can definitely be tempted beyond its walls if she has the right incentive, or the right company.

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Kirk was coming back from running an errand to the healing tents, dropping off an order as part of one of those jack-of-all trades kind of jobs he performed for his daily bread. Walking back across the courtyard, he spies Hermoine - playing with rocks? He squints a bit, wondering what she could possibly be up to, and for a second considers if it might be better to leave her to her project.

But his curiosity won out and he made his way over to her, scuffing his shoes to make noise and get her attention and not spook her.

"Did you lose something?" he asked her.

Returning from a trip outside the fortress to informally scout and let off some steam in ways other than assaulting training dummies, Korrin catches sight of Hermione when she gets closer to the healing tents. She starts to wave, then pauses as she takes notice of what Hermione's doing. Which doesn't make a lot of sense to her, personally, but it's not a stretch to assume it has to do with her own type of magic.

"...Hermione? What are you doing?"

It probably wouldn't be for the best to startle a witch while she was practicing transfiguration spells. Luckily for Kirk, despite Hermione being very much focused on jabbing this very uncooperative rock with the tip of her wand, this seemed like one of those fields of magic that was just a bit too complicated to manage with the interference of the Fade, so though she did jump a bit as she looked up at Kirk, he was in no real danger even before she lowered her wand.

"It won't turn into a ball," she explained petulantly. "At first I thought that was because I was imagining a rubber ball and that's probably too synthetic a material to really work here, so I imagined something cruder wrapped in leather, but it won't even turn into a spherical rock!" Huffing, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked indignantly at the rock in front of her before muttering, "I could have easily turned it into a snail when I was only twelve, but everything has to be so difficult here!"

"Transfiguring," she murmurs absently, still waving her wand in a controlled motion and tapping at the small black feather she'd found on the ground. Perhaps the rocks are just too dense to work, and turning a feather into a ribbon would end up being much easier.

Or maybe there's something to the idea that Gryffindors are unnaturally stubborn.

"Or trying to," she sighs, finally putting her wand down and looking up at Korrin. "It doesn't seem to be working well. I'm still not sure why some of my basic magic works while other spells don't."

Ariadne was wary when it came to horses. Back home, they were the primary mode of transportation for those who didn't have magic. But somehow, she'd never quite gotten comfortable with the idea of sitting on top of another living, breathing creature and forcing it to go where you wanted it to go.

Still. She would have to become comfortable with them eventually. Especially here. Where travel magic didn't seem to be an option.

So Ariadne forced herself to go down to the stables, at least once every couple of days. If only to try to feel more secure around the gentle giants.

But it was still unnerving.

Seeing Hermione there, though, made her smile a little bit. "Hello!" she chirped, making her way over to her fellow Rifter. "What are you doing here?"

Approaching to have a better look, Korrin pauses and crosses her arms, eyebrow raised. When Hermione lowers her want, her expression changes from one of curiosity to sympathy. "Maybe it's too different from what we know in Thedas. At least I don't know of any magic that can turn something into something else. Have you tried using a staff?"

She knows they talked about it before, but not if that would help with the more 'exotic' spells.

Hearing someone greet her, Hermione turned and needed a moment before she could remember Ariadne from the various other faces she'd met early in her stay at Skyhold. "Oh! Hello!" Managing a small smile before turning back to the horses, she kept her arms folded around herself as she peered curiously up at the horse nearest to her.

"I'm just looking at the mounts. I'd been looking for a place to practice a bit with my magic, but seeing that we actually have a few animals in the stables now, I'd rather not startle them." Glancing back at Ariadne, she asked, "Do you ride?"

"I've practiced with a staff a bit," she admits as she looks down. She's always a little wary about mentioning Anders' name considering what a strong reaction so many people have to him, so she doesn't explain whose staff it was that she'd managed to practice with. "But this is my first go at transfiguration. I knew it would be harder, but I'm still only trying spells I'd learned in my first year of school and they're still not working."

Huffing a little, Hermione looks up at Korrin and asks, "Do you mean to say you don't have any sort of transfiguration spells here?"

Ariadne shook her head, walking over to stand beside Hermione. "No. But I've been in carriages before, a few times." Which really wasn't the same thing at all, but it was experience enough to know how dangerous it was to spook a horse.

Those hooves could be very unforgiving.

"I feel kind of sorry for them," she added. "Being cooped up in here all the time. It must be so boring, don't you think?"

"I'm sure they get plenty of exercise when they're taken out on missions," Hermione remarked, only a touch dryly. She'd never liked the idea of warhorses, even if they were technically bred for that sort of thing. The idea of marbari fighting alongside people was troubling enough, but at least dogs have a natural inclination for being protective towards their owners.

"Some of them might even prefer the quiet company of other horses," she continued, looking along the stables. "Though I'm not sure if some of these can rightly be called horses."

She smiled mildly, without looking at Hermione.

Ariadne was used to that sort of dry tone of voice. A lot of people used it around her. After all, her cover was her cover. There were times when she bent over backwards, trying to seem...well...backwards. Except that she wasn't trying right now. Normally, it didn't bother her much. But every now and then...

Well. It didn't matter. Not really.

"Do you ride often?" she asked instead, shaking her head, as if to cast aside her doubts.

He opened his mout to remark on why anyone would teach a twelve year old to turn anything into a snail - that just seemed like a disaster waiting to happen - and snapped it shut just as quickly. Hermoine seemed upset enough as it was, or more rather frustrated.

"Your magic still isn't working like it should?" He guessed, sympathy in his voice.

Hermione hadn't meant anything by her comment other than to remark on the fact that the horses likely saw more than enough excitement when they weren't at Skyhold. If she'd been looking at Ariadne, she might have noticed that she'd said something that had been taken the wrong way, or maybe she wouldn't have known to. After all, it was hard to preemptively know to apologize when something one says gets misconstrued.

At that question, Hermione chuckled and looked back at Ariadne, shaking her head. "No, not at all. Well, I can't say at all. Occasionally while on holiday, my parents would put me on a pony or a horse when I got bigger, but I never really became enamored with it. Oh, I like horses well enough, but I didn't exactly consider them reliable modes of transportation." She hesitated before thinking back on the few times she'd traveled outside Skyhold. "I suppose I don't really have a lot of alternative options now."

Hermione would have explained that it was the principle of the thing, but truth be told, a lot of the magic she'd been taught to do her first year at Hogwarts had really been a series of parlor tricks or things that would be built upon during the later years rather than anything overly useful all on its own.

"No," she murmured, glaring at that rock as though it had done her a personal wrong. "I still don't know if it's my wand or the Fade or me, and not knowing is beginning to get maddening."

He understood, a little. He was still searching for his place here, for the ways in which the things he knew could bring purpose to himself and this place. As much as he wanted to get him, he didn't want to be particularly idle here if he could help it. He felt somewhat lost without the Fleet, drifting as he has been before Pike kicked his ass in that bar.

"You know what you need?" He asked her. "A break. Something else to think about for a bit. I was going to go explore the area around Skyhold today. Why don't you come with me?"

Grimacing in solidarity, Ariadne nodded slightly. "Not a lot of options at all," she agreed. "Back home, if I needed to get somewhere really, really quickly, I could ask an Elf to teleport me there with a spell. Otherwise, it was mostly just walking or carriages."

Ships occasionally too. And they were her favorite. She loved to stand at the prow and close her eyes. It reminded her of flying.

Sometimes, Ariadne missed her wings so much that it ached. But she'd made her decision. And it was the best decision. Nostalgia, she had to remind herself, wasn't the same thing as regret.

But it was difficult to remember sometimes.

"The princess my aunt served had a carriage made out of gold, with purple curtains and wheels the size of more than a handspan. There were specially bred horses that pulled it, all of them so white it almost looked like they were glowing." She smiled fondly at the memory. "Sometimes, they would let me ride up front with the coachman." She paused. "It was very, very bumpy."

Hermione knew that she was being silly, that being angry just because she couldn't turn a rock into a ball was stupid, but it was still a matter of pride. She didn't really have much of a reason to be proud of herself or of her accomplishments anymore.

And again, she knew that was silly, but maybe Kirk was actually right; she could use a break, a short burst of time where she could think of something other than how spectacularly terrible her magic has been over the past few months. So she looked up at him as though really seeing him for the first time, and tried not to frown.

"What were you planning on exploring?"

Hermione fell silent at the mention of teleporting. She hadn't really tried Apparating since arriving in Thedas, for any number of reasons. She wasn't familiar with the world outside of Skyhold, and so it wouldn't work properly; inside of Skyhold, well... the last thing she wanted was to suddenly appear besides someone who wasn't entirely comfortable around magic.

And that was to say nothing of the potential for Splinching.

Trying not to think about the one time she'd accidentally Splinched someone, Hermione shook her head to clear it and focused instead on the conversation. Smiling a touch, she remarked, "It sounds nice. And bumpy. But bumpy is something of a prerequisite for horse rides, I think.

"We have all sorts of different ways to travel back home. A popular way for those of us with magic is to ride charmed broomsticks. I'm... personally not a fan of those, though." Chuckling awkwardly, she explained, "No safety belts."

She had no idea what a safety belt was, but Ariadne knew broomsticks well enough. And she perked up a little with interest.

"What does a charmed broomstick do exactly?" she asked. It seemed like it had the potential to be just as bumpy as a carriage ride, bouncing along down a road. Potentially fun, but definitely not dignified.

In fact, just the thought of it made her want to giggle.

...she didn't.

Korrin pauses to consider that, but shakes her head slowly, fairly confident by now that she's seen what Thedas has to offer in terms of magic. "Not unless that includes shapeshifting as a specialization, but that's only to transform yourself, not other people or things. What exactly where you trying to do, then?"

"It flies," Hermione said simply, a little surprised. She wasn't surprised that Ariadne specifically didn't know about broomsticks so much as the fact that anyone wouldn't know about them. They're one of the worst-kept wizarding secrets in the world.

"They fly through the air like a boat on water. I've never been very good at flying and so I couldn't really give you much more information than that, but I suppose they're convenient enough for short jaunts or a quick getaway."

"You have shapeshifters here?" Hermione asks, a bit aghast. Animagi are another kettle of fish altogether; even crafting a temporary polyjuice potion can get quite complicated.

Plucking up the feather, she frowns at it for a bit and remarks, "I was trying to turn it into a ribbon, since that seems easy enough. Back home I would be able to turn it into a snake and keep it as a pet - at least until the spell wore off - but I don't dare try anything that has to do with living things, not until I can get all this sorted."

With that, her eyes lit up. Flying broomsticks? Flying broomsticks! It sounded like the most extraordinary thing in the world.

Maybe there was some regret mingling in and muddling with that nostalgia. But at the moment, Ariadne felt far too excited to think of such things.

"Can you do it?" she asked, turning to face Hermione and clasping her hand. "Can you enchant a broomstick to fly? Really fly? Like a bird over the canopies of the forest?"

"Yes...? Several, in fact." Korrin answers the question about shapeshifting with a puzzled tone, not sure what merited that initial response. Maybe it means something different to her?

Her eyes turn to that feather, eyebrow still raised at what Hermione describes. "Wait, you could turn objects into animals and vice versa? Seriously? Now I wish you could pull it off, just so I could see this for myself. No one here would believe magic like that, except the most ignorant to think magic can do anything we want."

Someone's getting closer. He's heard them walking around the stables for several minutes now, thinking maybe they were just there to get their horse out, but now he's not sure. When they continue getting closer Anders sighs.

"Be quiet as you head this way, please." His voice is pitched low. One kitten is sleeping on him while another two tussle in the hay, all of them waiting for their mother to come back from hunting. He'd gotten here just a little too late to feed her, probably because 95% of his attention was focused on those in the healing tents.

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OPEN: And you can shake the mountains with a whisper

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