faderift | { CLOSED } Ne me quitte pas

Entry tags:

{ CLOSED } Ne me quitte pas

WHO: Christine Delacroix, Sam Gareth, Church
WHAT: Visiting Christine's mother to deliver some bad news
WHEN: backdated to early Kingsway
WHERE: Velun, Orlais
NOTES: The direct result of what she learned at the front in the civil war in Orlais.

The trip to Velun on the western side of Lake Celestine doesn't take terribly long thanks to the Imperial Highway being their route almost the entire way. The town is full of tightly packed houses with the Chantry being the largest building, looming in the background. Unlike Val Royeaux or Halamshiral, Velun is a place full of poorer folk, as well as an emerging middle class of merchants who send their wares across the lake or via the Imperial Highway, and from there across the Empire. The sight of two mages walking freely has some people a bit nervous, but being a trading town, they have seen mages pass through since the fall of the Circles. Most keep their distance and leave the pair of mages alone.

Which suits Christine just fine, until she says she may not remember the way to her house as it has been so long, and she needs to ask for directions. She stays calm and polite, hands limp at her sides as she asks a fruit seller where she might find the Delacroix residence. To her relief, the man doesn't make a scene and simply tells her the way. After twists and turns through narrow pebble and grass paths, the group finally stops in front of a yellow house with cheery window boxes of flowers and hanging baskets of the same out front. And now Christine finds she can't move, until she reaches one hand out for Church's and her other for Sam's.

"Oh, Maker. How do I even begin? How do I tell her? 'Hello. I know it has been over fifteen years since you last saw me, but I am here to tell you Père has died.'?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"The Inquisition," dear god it's so hard not to follow that up with 'what a show!', "is a group filled with people from all walks of life dedicated to setting this world back on the right path. And by right path, I mostly mean out of danger of ripping apart. Peacekeeping, where there's peace, and fighting to make peace. Fighting demons, closing rifts in the sky, stuff like that. A little crowded back at HQ, but that's just a sign of how many people are ready and willing to help their fellows without knowing a thing about them."

It's not the slickest sales pitch, but it's something! Even if she's only half paying attention for the sake of distraction.

He's rather thankful that Church didn't say anything like that. Course he wouldn't have given Darcia the kind of pitch he was giving - they weren't trying to recruit her. Since it's been said though-

"That covers a whole lot of it. There are a lot of people from all across the world teaming up together to take care of this threat. We have refugees coming to Skyhold to take shelter and find work as we clear out areas of danger. It's becoming quite the hub. Was there anything in particular that you heard about that you wanted clarification about?"

"Well, I already knew that the Inquistion was taking in refugees. There was some talk that the leaders murdered the Divine--" And here she waves her hands quickly. "Which I never believed! Not for a second. But the rifters. Who are they, really? Some say demons, but that cannot be. They would not have fooled all of you and you would have destroyed them if they were, yes?"

The kettle whistles and she moves to fill up a highly decorated teapot with the water, but she's still obviously ready to listen.

Ahahaha. Ha. Yeah. About those rifters! Sure wanna know who they are, yeah? While she is distracted by the kettle he shoots a quick look at Sam. What do.

"Absolutely. If rifters were really demons, they wouldn't be helping out. They're just people who came here by complete accident, through the rifts, who are just trying to figure out how life in Thedas works. Most of them would rather go back home if they could, but they're just people like you and the Delacroixs."

"I'm glad that you don't believe that rumor, it is completely untrue." Cassandra and Lelianna would be appalled by such a rumor.

Well should've expected that to come up, the subject about Rifters. Once Darcia has turned around, Sam looks to Church, seeing that he's doing just the same. The man looks a little worried about the subject, which Sam give purses his lips and gives a shrug. They'll just have to talk about it, but not necessarily mention that Church was one of these Rifters.

Yeah, just like that, Church.

"As Church has said, they're just people who have been brought here by accident - not demons. They're actually lending their time and energy to help us with this fight."

As they explain who the rifters are, Darcia's expression becomes more fascinated, though she never wavers from setting everything up on the tea tray. It's muscle memory at this point. Tea leaves go in with the water, she fetches the sugar bowl and whatever is left, and when they're finished speaking, she's quick to reply.

"That is good to hear. I wonder what their worlds are like... Well, you must have spoken to some of them. What do they say about--" But whatever else she's planning to say is interrupted as Christine gently opens the door. Ponce starts barking at her and she gives the dog a pursed lip look before entering and walking towards the maid.

"Darcia, my mother asks that you please take these letters to a messenger." She holds out two pieces of parchment, folded and sealed with wax. Though her eyes are red-rimmed, Christine looks steady now. And it seems her mother is enough to have written messages. There are clearly similarities between the two women. They can have a burst of strong emotion, but rally themselves not long after.

Darcia takes the letters and looks at the addresses before nodding and slipping them into the pocket of her apron.

"Right away, Mistress Christine! Oh, I made tea for Madame." She looks over at the tray nervously, wondering if she shouldn't drop it off first before going on her errand, but Christine quickly cuts in with, "I shall take it. Go on." Darcia nods, drops a curtsy, and scurries off to mail the letters. Once gone, Christine sinks down onto a stool and sighs.

"Everything is changing for my mother. My father's apprentice was promised the business if my father died, so she will have no income anymore. Her brother promised to take her in if this happened, so she wrote to him to ask him to pick her up. He will make arrangements to sell the house and furniture, and Maman will have that money at least." Her voice lowers, even though Darcia has left. "She does not know if her brother will allow Darcia to come, and he has said Ponce is absolutely not to come. His daughter is allergic." What a mess. The death of one man affects so much, like a stone thrown into a pond makes ripples that push outward.

It's kind of a blessing to interrupt the conversation, because keeping up the pretense of Hey I'm Totally Not A Rifter gets really hard after a couple sentences out of Church's mouth, generally.

"At least it's not a no, to Darcia," he says with a shrug. "There's a chance for her." Church comes over and rubs Christine's back, a gentle up and down with a broad hand between the shoulders. "Your mom kind of doesn't look super active enough to be making an income. Maybe her brother's got something lucrative enough to go around. You gonna be okay?"

"At least it seems like some things are in order," he offers, trying to be optimistic. Hopefully this brother will allow Darcia to come along considering she knew Lady Delacroix's needs probably to a point now. Hearing about the dog though has Sam leaning over and glancing down at the little noise maker. Only for a moment though since he looks up to listen to Christine's answer - he is curious if she is doing alright, but she hardly needs to be prodded multiple times with the same question.

"Tea?" he asks, sliding one of the cups towards her.

Christine finds herself relaxing under Church's soothing touch, and she gives a brief smile of thanks to Sam before dropping a lump of sugar into her cup and swirling it around with a spoon.

"I am finding that my mother is very... theatrical, but at the same time I can see she has weak legs. I think part of her might like the attention she receives for having an ailment and yet I cannot blame her for that. She must often be housebound with limited mobility. I would wish for attention too. And I think having Darcia to give it to her is a very good thing. Does Darcia seem happy working for my mother?" She pauses to sip at her tea. They really should take the tray in to her mother, but she'll do it in just a minute.

"She could knit things. Sew. Stuff with her arms instead of standing or walking, if that's the worry." Just...stuff. Stuff that women can be expected to do to make money? This is all backwards land to him, okay.

But that's for Lady Delacroix to decide for herself, once she's moved and settled. This is still very new and a sudden grieving period. God knows he didn't really grieve for Tex in any healthy way any of the times she's died. (Which is unfortunately way more true than he realizes.)

"She seems thrilled to be here, actually. Thoughtful-like. Cares about your mom. I really wouldn't want to see her go, if there's any choice in the matter about it."

Made up for things with a big personality, fit her way into things by conversation - there was no way to overlook her.

"Darcia has been around for a while it seems, and it sounds like she rather enjoys what she does and having worked/lived with your parents. She's rather attached to your mother and would rather like to go where she goes if able." Sam sighs, taking a sip of his tea, using both hands to handle the cup.

"I would like to see that she goes with your mother. Worst case... perhaps possibly we could offer some sort of agreement to make it happen." Sending money every once in a while to help support another maybe?

Christine listens and agrees with the pair that since Darcia enjoys working for Madame Delacroix so much, she should stay with her when she leaves.

"I do not know anything about my uncle beyond what my mother has already told me, but surely the money she receives from selling the house and furniture could pay for Darcia's necessities for some time, yes? She would not be dependent on my uncle for such things." She pauses to set her tea cup back on the tray. "I would like to help my mother settle in there, but she doesn't think it would be wise. My uncle is not fond of mages." Her mother had put it in slightly more dramatic terms that she won't repeat here.

"Let me take this in. She said she wants to get to know you two in order to take her mind off things." Christine settles her gaze on Church. "Perhaps you should say you are a soldier and leave it at that? I will try to change the topic if she becomes too interested in you." Little does Christine know that her mother is set on Christine marrying one of them already. She has it in her head that with the fall of the Circles, all mages will have the same rights as everyone else and she'll finally get some grandbabies to dote on.

Christine stands and takes the tray, leading the way back into the sitting room. Her mother is much like they first saw her, leaning back with eyes closed. Ponce races past everyone to jump on the sofa with her and she opens her eyes. The only thing different is now there is a small table nearby with a bottle of smelling salts on it. Her mother scoots it aside to make room for the tea.

"Ah, Darcia has gone with my letters, then? Good girl. I am sorry about earlier, gentlemen, but surely you are both romantics yourselves and can understand the pain of two lovers being parted forever." Aimee lifts a lace-edged handkerchief to her nose and dabs delicately. Christine smiles sadly and sets down the tray.

"Maman and Père were in love when they married," she tells Sam and Church as she gestures at them to sit in the two armchairs flanking the sofa, "She is very proud of that fact."

"Of course! Who would not be? He came to my father and asked to court me properly to see how we got on, and it was clear from the start that he was the man for me." As Aimee starts to pour out tea for her guests, she adds oh-so-subtly: "Now in cases where the father has passed on, asking the mother for permission to court her daughter is just as well." Hint, hint.

Thankfully(?) the hinting goes over Church's head, because, pff, who asks a complete stranger if they're gonna date their daughter? Crazy people, and also nobody, that's who. He'll awkwardly make himself cozy and not at all at home because look, this whole thing is weird. It's just...weird.

He almost, like, mouth open is about to point out that people where he's from haven't done old school courting like that in, like, hundreds of years, but he remembers and thinks better at the very last second and says, instead, "It's fine, ma'am. Lady Delacroix, ma'am. It must come as a big shock, and we would never expect you to simply be fine with the events." So far, so good. "I'm sure it was all for a good cause?" Less far, less good. Maybe he'll just drink some tea yes that sounds good take it away Sam please.

The story has Sam smiling ever so softly as he takes his seat, finding it rather sweet to hear such a thing. Finding a love like that wasn't always easy, so it must have been all the more painful for her with her husband's passing. Honestly, Sam believes that this will simply turn into a conversation where Lady Delacroix reminisces about her younger days, and telling them about her marriage. So when that last bit suddenly gets dropped - in the middle of him taking a sip of his offered tea, which he thanked them kindly for - Sam suddenly pauses mid sip, though quickly puts the cup down considering the tea is still rather hot.

He can feel the slight tinge of heat at his cheeks at the suggestion, which he quickly tries to hide by raising his hand up to his mouth, coughing just slightly. For a moment his eyes dart over to Church, having expected some sort of reaction, but seeing that he is staying so calm it is clear he hadn't quite picked up on that - was that a good or bad thing? Well this would be interesting.

"Is that so?" Christine was this what you meant by 'getting to know you' back in the kitchen? "May I ask how you met your husband?"

He's not the only one surprised by Aimee's sudden mission. Christine's lips are pressed tightly together and her eyes dart from Church to Sam. This is not what she expected when her mother insisted the two men come back in to talk to her.

"Oh, there were always little social gatherings happening in the town. Weddings, holidays, that sort of thing. I had seen him, but was not formally introduced until a Summerday celebration. After that, we danced, talked, and he asked to court me." She sighs softly, running the edging of her handkerchief between two fingers. "It seems like only yesterday. How time passes..." Her gaze is distant for a moment before she comes back to herself and takes a sip of tea.

"This will brings tears again, I just know it. Please, tell me of yourselves. Titine's letter said nothing about either of you, but you must know her well to travel all the way here with her, yes?"

WHO DOESN'T KNOW SOMETHING'S GOING ON HERE? Just sipping his tea and wishing it was spiked the way Adelaide makes it... "Oh, uh. I'm just a...soldier. Kind of stumbled on the Inquisition, and they took me in."

Look, he's not the best liar in the world. At all. But if he can take the facts and make them imply something else without lying? That he will gladly be able to do without completely giving himself and his glove-covered hand away. "It's no easy thing, running around the continent closing rifts, slaying demons, negotiating with people who'd rather bicker than focus on the real evil in the world, but we manage, mostly. Christine's one of our best healers, and she's always knee-deep in some kind of research. Some dangerous stuff, but nothing she can't handle."

Nothing like heaping praise on someone in front of their mother, right? Always gets points, right?

Even if it was praise, and saying Christine can handle herself - which she can, he agrees with that - mentioning 'danger' to her mother was probably not the best route to go. At least not right after having told her about her recently deceased husband. Sam takes a sip from his tea again, eyes darting over to Christine, hoping that her mother wouldn't start going off on her on that.

"I'm also a healer for the Inquisition, so Christine and I work together quite often - as Church has said, your daughter is very talented. Besides that I help our soldiers, like Church here, with crafting their weapons and armor in the forges."

Church's part of the conversation has Aimee turning suddenly towards Christine and gripping her hand tight while wearing a worried expression, but she doesn't interrupt Sam as he explains what it is he does in the Inquisition. When there is room to speak, she immediately goes: "Oh, my child! You do dangerous things? But who looks after you and protects you?"

"Maman," Christine says patiently, patting her mother's hand. "I take care of myself. I am a mage; I have spells at my disposal." Of course there's no need to bring up how she and the others were recently electrocuted by crazed Red Templars, right?

Her mother doesn't look convinced, clearly of the mindset that her daughter needs a big, strong man to protect her. Her gaze shifts towards Sam and Church. A soldier means he's strong. But a healer who doubles as a blacksmith? Well, it's not the most glamorous profession but blacksmiths have steady work and must be strong too, right?

"We hear such rumors about the Inquisition. It has amassed quite the following, no?" She slowly releases her daughter's hand, not really over the "dangerous stuff" thing, but willing to set it aside for now. She's had her life overturned today and there is only so much she can take at once. It has to be shuffled back for now. "Tell me, where do you two come from? What are your families like?" Innocent enough questions on their own, but coming from her? She's definitely fishing for marriage material.

Something something 'seems like being a mage is dangerous enough', but Church knows better than to actually say that out loud. Don't make things worse for once! Though he feels a phantom twinge in his shoulder where a high speed shard of red lyrium dug in.

The continued digging questioning is starting to make him a little suspicious, though. "You could call where I'm from the middle of nowhere, and, um, I'm not very close to my family?" Teeechnically all true. "I don't have any exciting answers about my personal life, on that front, sadly. Or maybe thankfully. Leads to less family drama that way."

Believe him Church, there are plenty of aches, pains, bruises, and various other things he's feeling - not to mention Fortitude buzzing quietly in the back of his head - but sometimes less is better in situations like this. Mostly since Sam didn't want to have to possibly deal with Christine's mother suddenly deciding that her daughter should leave immediately and come live with her.

"I was born in a small fishing village in the Coastlands. My mother passed when I was born so it was my aunt and father who raised me. I was learning to work the forge from my father at a young age, but then we had to uproot to Ostwick. After that I was in the Circle for a while. I was close with my father but he passed away recently before I could see him again. I'm still rather close with my aunt... she's still living in Ostwick and has some kids of her own."

Christine finally has time to drink her tea as her mother listens intently, filing away all this information. Or lack of information in Church's case. Her eyes narrow as she grows a little suspicious as to his origins. Is he perhaps a thief, hiding within the Inquisition to avoid the hangman's noose? Or has he abandoned a wife and four children to have adventures with the Inquisition? She has a very active imagination and can think up a hundred scenarios here.

Then Sam speaks and her brow furrows in thought. She leans towards Christine, eyes darting towards her daughter.

"Titine, the Coastlands. He does not mean the Coastlands of Ferelden, does he?"

Oh, dear. Christine lowers her cup and smiles gently. "I believe he does, Maman. Sam is a Fereldan, but has lived in the Marches some time."

"I see." Well, that does it for Sam. You're off the hook! No marriage between her precious baby and a dirty dog lord. "Ah, Leonard," she continues, feeling like this isn't going well at all. "What country gave you such an unusual accent?"

Christine's eyes dart from her mother to Church, then back again. "I believe," she starts quickly, sitting at the edge of her seat, "That he has spend some time around dwarves, yes Church?" She nods her head at Church to get him to agree with her. "Dwarves speak in such a way."

And Christine for the save! Because, it's true, around Skyhold most anyone that sounds American as fuck is a Rifter orrrrr a dwarf. Occasionally other people, but mostly dwarves. So just take that and run with it, Church.

"Yep. You spend enough time around a people, you pick up their accents and their ways of speaking. Hopefully I don't reflect too poorly on dwarves, in that case. I don't wanna--"

Waaaaait wait just one second here. Hold on. "--I'm. sorry, ma'am, but, just, sorry, it sounds like you're expecting...something. from one of us." It might be way too forward to just say 'it sounds like you expect one of us to be dating your daughter', but he's actually catching on.

He understands all too well what is going through her mind based on the lowered tones, furrowed brow, and quick dismissal. It actually has him grinning behind his cup a bit - amusing considering as Dog Lord he's never owned a dog and here she has one running around.

Honestly he could have gotten away with just saying he was from the Free Marches, he had enough of an accent from there to do so, and he had lived there long enough. It had been tempting to play into what he knows Christine's mother is doing, but he had come here to support Christine, not cause any issues. Perhaps if they had come under different circumstances he would have, but with how she must be feeling right now, he just couldn't do that to her.

Suggesting that Church had spent time with Dwarves was actually a rather clever idea. Granted he hopes Lady Delacroix doesn't press for where Church is from even after that. Course they might not have to worry about that considering Church seems to have finally caught up... and asked bluntly what is going on.

He's just... going to drink his tea for the time, eyes darting between everyone to see how this goes.

Now Christine gives Church a look that clearly says he shouldn't have said that. It's tight-lipped and serious, but it lasts only a moment before she quickly says, "I am sure Maman simply wants to know more about you both."

Her mother doesn't really see Church as such a great prospect anymore. No manners, this one. Now the Fereldan; she's surprised that one has manners.

"Is it so wrong to want to know the character of two men who have been traveling alone with my daughter?" Because when she was hoping one of them might marry her it was fine that they'd traveled alone together. But now? People might talk.

He blinks wide-eyed at Lady Delacroix. "...Wow." Church, whatever you are about to say, don't say it. "Inquisition boys taking time to accompany your daughter all the way here because we like her, to make sure she's okay, and you're okay, and everything here is okay." Church. He opens his mouth to keep going, because he's about to go on a roll here in a second.

But now is not a good time for that. Not with the look Christine is giving, and not with the whole...stupid fucking situation as it is. He settles further back in his seat, eyes in a nice middle neutral ground not boring a hole in anyone, and sips his tea.

Loudly.

See, he can be subtle like an Orlesian too.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject