faderift | open; Dry your smoke-stung eyes

After Val Royeaux and their talk in the cafe, Pel hadn't been far from her mind once the worst of Dairsmuid had been behind her and she'd been able to relax and enjoy herself as the mages had recovered before their journey to Skyhold. Armed with two bolts of fabric, one plain, one anything but, Araceli sets off in search of Pel.

She isn't entirely sure what Pel will make of the gift but she tracks her down with a smile on her face, material draped over one arm.

"Hola, I trust the day finds you well?"

The note is left in the forge in Araceli's instantly recognisable handwriting. Though given that Lux is charged with ensuring the note is delivered safely, that's a dead giveaway that it really can come from only one of two people.

Samouel, can you meet me at the kitchens please? Lux will bring you to me. I have something I require your assistance with.

Yours,
Araceli Bonaventura.

The fox will not take no for an answer. Do you want a fox all up in your business Sam? Are you ready for that? Think long and hard about it.

Pel is packing away the last of her things, getting ready to leave for Halamshiral when she answers the door to her room. She blinks at Araceli, and then smiles--more with her eyes than her mouth, as usual.

"Good to see you back." She tries not to look at those bolts of fabric. She's both dreading and hoping that they might be a gift. If they are, she'll feel guilty. If they aren't, she'll feel envious. She really likes to set things up so she can't win at all.

It's Lux that he notices first, raising a brow when the fox comes in and hands him a note. "What do we have here?" he asks the fox rhetorically, immediately opening it up to look over the contents. For several long moments he reads, and rereads, the note before his eyes return to Lux.

He's not planning on saying 'no' but it is still something to have a fox staring at you so intently. There's not much to think about. No, he really wouldn't want a fox all up in his business. Besides Nikita might try and pick a fight.

So despite knowing where the kitchens are, Sam raises his brows to Lux. "Give me a couple minutes?"

Even if Sina hadn't asked for a gift, this is Araceli Bonaventura and as such she's almost physically incapable of not bringing back a small something for a friend. Rivain is a long voyage by most standards, and meeting the Rivaini Dalish a rare opportunity so of course she has a gift tucked into a pouch at her hip as Lux scampers ahead of her.

He knows who they're going to find today, Sina who always smells good, with her small gentle hands and he barks when he spots her, racing ahead of Araceli who happens to up on the roof. She laughs from above before she makes her way down, landing with a backwards flip and a low bow to some startled applause from a few surprised onlookers.

(Look a girl needs an audience sometimes to bolster her ego.)

"Sina! Lux stop being a pest," she gives her fox a shove as she makes her way over. "I have a surprise for you! The good kind, not the 'I'm dashing off to go fight Templars' kind."

Around the healer's tents is where Araceli does the bulk of her climbing; plenty of wall to work with, places for her to put piles of straw or hay to land in, an audience (look a girl needs her ego stroked sometimes), and well healers just in case something goes terribly wrong. Lessons are always ongoing in and around her own studies, thanks to the little note on the board since arriving back from Rivain; she wants the distraction and to be tired enough to fall asleep the instant her head hits the pillow at night.

(The shadow of Korrin's dying friend looms large in their rooms even when Korrin isn't there.)

Lux makes a noise when he hears someone approach, Araceli halting halfway up the wall to peer down.

"Come for a lesson?"

Lux is not being a pest, and Sina bends to pick him up in a delighted hug when he comes barreling toward her. She nearly drops him again at the sight of Araceli backflipping off the stairs, and it takes her a moment to realize that that was on purpose. "More surprising than that?" she asks, still smiling, but with trepidation.

He watches from time to time, between patients, between other tasks. There's not a lot he can really catch with that, though. It brings him heading over to her when she doesn't seem to have another student learning, and he nods at the question.

"Yes, actually, if you'd not mind." Anders shrugs to try to make it seem like it's an incidental request. "I'm flexible, but I could use improvement as far as agility goes." For reasons.

When Beleth hears that Araceli is back from her trip, her first stop isn't to visit her fellow bard apprentice. Don't be ridiculous. Her first stop is to the kitchens, to sweet talk Burly into making some various desserts for them. It's only after she's secured the goods that she makes her way towards where she knows Araceli likes to practice her climbing, looking around.

"Araceli...?" She calls out, cautiously, eyes focused up. "I come bearing gifts. If I can't find you, I will have to eat them all myself." Or more likely, go find someone else to share with, because even Beleth has a limit on pastries she can devour. Of course, if this doesn't work, she could always try bribing Lux, next time.

Although the last time she tried bribing animals, that ended poorly. Hmm.

Araceli goes searching for Martel with a renewed swing to her hips; being by the sea has done her the world of good even if Dairsmuid still casts a long shadow at unexpected moments, clouds on days everyone swore would be clear. She takes the rooftops as is her way, slides down more carefully with two neatly wrapped bundles tucked beneath her arm, and if the smell of the sea still clings to her then so be it, she's spent months wasting away up in a mountain for her precious few weeks by the water under the sun.

"I return from Rivain all in one piece," she greets though news travels, and she was very much not herself the last time (only, she realised later) addressed everyone on the sending crystals. "You may rest again. And I've brought you something more than just my good self returning though that of course should be enough for anyone."

Meeting with Lady Thevenet had been high on Araceli's list of priorities since there's something intriguing about the Nevarran Councillor, but grief is grief, and she wouldn't intrude on it. (And selfishly, something she would admit to no one since not a soul knows what Araceli is actually up to though she wonders if anyone has talked, has mentioned Korrin's rifter girl going from mage to mage asking this question and that question all under the same banner, she would rather have both her mind as singularly on the subject as she can.)

Then there was Dairsmuid and Araceli has needed time herself; these mages aren't wholly her responsibility but they know her best outside one another so she helped them settle, checks in with them same as she did Zevran's kestrels, then sends along a short note of apology to reschedule.

The library is practically her second home at this stage, no one batting an eye when Araceli makes her way up (if they do it's down to the gown in place of what she'd usually wear), knocking lightly on the door.

"Lady Thevenet?"

Edited 2016-08-10 05:27 (UTC)

Sina you will get a cold nose in your boobs for you trouble because this fox has absolutely no shame and he pretty much grew up shoving his face in Araceli's. (It's amazing he didn't get smothered at some point after she went through puberty.) "Perhaps less," she admits though she has a different way of measuring things compared to most folk.

"Remember when I spoke to you on the crystal after? When we were off seeing the Dalish clan in Rivain?"

Lux seems to give Sam's words serious consideration once his solemn duty is over: Araceli did tell him what he was to do since he can't read just to be on the safe side, and the kitchens are where there's food and chefs that spoil him but he can stroll around the forge because he doesn't get to go here too often. He barks, strutting around the place to poke around to where he won't get into too much trouble until whenever Sam is ready.

(But if this makes him miss out on treats or get in trouble because they took too long then so help you Sam he will pee on your bed. He will find it and he will pee on it. He knows what you smell like.)

It's a thief's instincts that have her eyes darting about quickly; potential entrances and exits, anywhere she could hide if someone came back. Araceli was a damned good thief, those sort of instincts stick. Smoothing the fabric again, she lets out a little sigh of relief.

"As good as it was to be by the sea? I am glad to be away from there. For the moment," she admits since arriving with a group or Rivaini mages tends to stir up plenty of new gossip. "Ah, I have something for you. After we spoke in Val Royeaux? But it comes with instructions. Are you listening very, very carefully Pel Ashara?"

Why yes she sounds very serious even if she has one of her most charming smiles on her face right now.

It's her favorite color. It's a privilege to work with, let alone potentially wear. And she could make herself something little, something nice, like a neck handkerchief, and make salable goods from the rest. Is it wrong that she is greedy for that neck handkerchief?

But there's this smile on Araceli's face. That probably means a great deal more greed than Pel is prepared for.

"Yes...?"

Their (peculiar) friendship is such that when she arrives, swinging her hips and the full force of a personality that thinks she's much bigger than she is, Martel doesn't suppress the impulse that compels him to catch her by the elbow and duck down far enough to greet her by way of an avuncular kiss pressed to her temple. "It would have been enough for me," he assures her, charming monster that he is, releasing her and setting down the practise sword he'd been using to block out what will eventually be a lesson.

So it's probably as much 'trolling her with his sweatiness' as it is 'expressing his affection', but given the playful way of her in his company, that's all rather of a piece.

"What have you brought me, little terror?"

(You don't want to start that fight Lux. Sure he'll be upset, but there are others who use that bed. The cats won't take kindly to anyone peeing on their territory. Neither will Kirk.)

Sam doesn't take terribly long, just needing to put away his tools and everything else before he leaves - unless this was an emergency he always makes sure his space is clear, otherwise he'd get an earful. Once everything is put where it belongs he looks around for the fox, raising a brow at where he's gotten in to.

"Do I need to give you a minute?" Seemed like Lux was enjoying himself.

When the door opens -

There is a stillness to Benevenuta, even now, that wasn't there...or was there, but was not so visible before Hercules Hansen's unfortunately timely death. She's softened from the statue thing that she was, greets Araceli with a smile, but she has pulled in and it serves nothing so much as to starkly underline what a conscious thing it is, the way that she maneuvers through the world. The things that she makes herself for her audiences.

And she's closer than she was in the first raw moments of loss, but - not quite there, again. Not yet quite prepared to turn it on and be unchanged. It's been only a little while. Some can still be forgiven, even if she doesn't entirely forgive it of herself.

"Araceli," she says, opening the door wider; Max sleeps on the floor by the bed and Husband on the end of it. Her desk has been brought up, but besides that and the dogs, this room is very much Dorian's, Benevenuta having carefully not made herself too at home. It is temporary, she said. "Come in."

Araceli had been gone for a while. And maybe normally that's not something that would bother Church--she's a "bard" now after all, probably has things to do, people to sing to and/or kill, but her latest mission took her pretty damn far away, according to the maps. And what he's read about Rivain, it must be a damn sight like Spain or...Spain-adjacent like where she's from. The trip worried her--no, not the trip so much as the reasoning for the trip, the reason for getting people to go and fight some big bad guys and save some mages.

She might not consider herself a Rifter anymore, but Church still gives a fuck. So when he hears of the arrival of some worse for wear mages from Rivain coming, he's got energy to spare, poking around to see if Araceli is among those returning.

And when he does eventually find her, he makes his way over to her side. "Good hunting? Nice vacation? Did you buy some nice beachfront property and only came back to pack your things?"

Instead of coming back down the wall, Araceli continues making her way up as Lux watches Anders steadily; reaching the top she hauls herself up in the blink of an eye, glances over her shoulder for a split second then falls back into the pile of hay to break her landing. (She misses water. Rivain and Antiva have only made her miss home more in some ways. She is trying not to be ungrateful for what she gets.)

Dusting herself down, she makes her way over to Anders, girl and fox giving him a look up and down. "First lesson is falling. Off the fences but you're a healer, you should know what happens when people get tense. Accept it, don't fight it, stay loose? You won't break your bones." As if to make the point she stretches, up on her toes, arms high above her head, one long line. "Agility is agility, this is a little different."

It's a mild understatement, especially where Araceli is concerned but she's intrigued.

Up high on a rooftop again, fingers busy plucking out a song she knows well on her lute, Araceli doesn't hear Beleth's approach but Lux does. The fox - showing absolutely no fear of heights that any animal with four legs beyond a cat should at being up high - peers at her, ears pricked up as he jerks his head to point to where his mistress is.

(Yes, she took the lute and the fox up to the roof with her, this is how she stays fit, Lux is a better passenger than the lute in all honesty, funny how these things work.)

Still, Lux goes to tug Araceli's sleeve, pawing at her to get her to stop before there's a very one-sided exchange in Araceli's native tongue before she gets up and peers down. "Beleth? Are you coming up? Or am I coming down?"

"So." Araceli moves towards Pel's bed uninvited, which is a little rude of her but she wants to set the fabric down since her arm is getting tired from carrying it here when she had to walk the bloody long way with it because one does not parkour with fabric, she's not some sort of heathen. Despite whatever the popular opinion on rifters might be today. She sets them both down, straightens an imaginary crease, then turns around again.

It's all very dramatic, very fittingly Castilean.

"You are to make something. Something beautiful. Something wonderful. Something splendid." That really goes without saying because the fabric is wonderful, the quality can be seen without even having to touch it but she gestures for Pel to do just that. "But you are to make it for yourself. And then I will put on my gown. And you will put on this fabulous gown in this wonderful colour that will make your hair glow and turn you into the envy of everyone and we will go somewhere together."

Does Araceli have any friends that would be considered 'normal'? Probably not, that would be utterly dull and how would she ever know what's going on in the world if she didn't know as many people as possible all over the place? She attempts to dart free as she lets out a little shriek, flapping a hand at him with a wrinkled nose. Man sweat, the second most evil of all sweats since horses sweat too, a thing she didn't need to know or experience personally.

After the appropriate amount of sorting her hair, she rolls her eyes as far back as she can. "Enough - enough is not enough when it's me." But she's charmed by the nickname in a way she rarely is when older men that aren't her father's friends bestow names upon her as she fishes out a gift from both inside pockets of her coat. The whole lining is a maze of pockets that a person could probably get lost in if they weren't careful but it's the sort of thing you tend to need in her line of work, funny how often guards and the lawless tend to require the same sort of tools.

"A true blade is a personal thing, but a dagger can be just a decoration sometimes." People still forget that the pretty weapon is still a weapon, for all that it might be small and light, and glittering. It's not so opulent as to be something an Orlesian might like, darker gold and deep blue stones that reminded her of whales beneath the surface for the decoration with a curve to the blade to speak of the craftsmanship. Something almost shy overcomes her when she hands it over. "And this isn't from the library in Dairsmuid, I picked this up before, on Rivaini magical practices: their wise women and their Seers are still very much a part of daily life in Rivain, loved and respected."

(He is king of the fennecs Sam, he has a goddamn army across Thedas. Bring it.)

Understanding human speech more than any animal should given his long years of service as Araceli's best friend, companion, partner-in-crime, and lookout, Lux shakes his head and starts trotting off to the kitchens where Araceli is chattering away to three Tal-Vashoth chefs. Absolutely untroubled about being the shortest person in the room (she's used to it) and being fed a spoonful of sauce whenever Sam and her furry son arrive.

"I'd say more peppers but you'll have a line of crying southerners outside the door trying to talk with their tongues stuck to the roof of their mouths trailing tears and snot through your kitchen, boohoohoo too bad so sad," Araceli is saying with a wave of her hand that has the silverite bracelet Korrin gave her on First Day catching the light as Burly gives her a very careful shove that luckily has her spying Sam.

Lux trots to sit in front of Araceli with his fur all puffed up, one last look at Sam before he awaits the award and praise that is lavished upon him. (So he gives Sam another look to say 'behold, human, look at this woman that loves me this much, I am beloved'.)

"Here you are, Samouel, what a surprise I have in store for you. The first half at least."

Araceli sees as a thief sees; spies exits and entries, places to hide where the shadows would be kindest or least forgiving, what would catch the eye of the fences so that she might feed herself as well as a building full of hungry people for as long as possible without stretching it too far. (Just because you're poor doesn't mean you shouldn't have food you can enjoy.)

A woman she remembers from a lesson and from watching in passing, she inclines her head respectfully. Time has passed, and death is...death is the beginning of a new cycle in Castileos, not so sad a thing to nurture the new but her parents did not raise a rude thing. There are few opinions she concerns herself with, but she wouldn't have Lady Thevenet thinking poorly of her. "I was sorry to hear about Warden Hansen." Sincerity comes easily to Araceli, it's the sort of girl she is after all. "I didn't know him but we are very much lacking in commanding heads.

"I had hoped," she continues with something not brighter but stronger, the wave the rushes over the shore and washes away the footprints, "that discussing Mages and the Mage Council might be a fitting distraction? And timely for me, when I have delivered more seeking sanctuary into your collective hands."

open; Dry your smoke-stung eyes

closed; pel ashara

closed; samouel gareth

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closed; sina

closed; anders

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closed; martel

closed; benevenuta thevenet

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