faderift | { CLOSED } Ne me quitte pas

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{ 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.'?"

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He's perfectly happy being mostly ignored. Sam seems like a good enough dude, and he knows he's an asshole. But a fun asshole, thanks. He is content (no, not really, but whatever) to sit back and listen to things, but damn, already gotta pack everything? How soon is she gonna move?

Church will make a comment, to Sam, leaning toward him with a smirk. "Leave the bigger pieces to us men; no need for anyone to hurt themselves, right?"

Well... at least they weren't fighting. For now - he isn't sure how long the peace might last with them touching all their possessions. Speaking of-

"You have to pack already?" Was she moving right away or was it simply wanting Christine to be around for a bit longer? "I guess we'll be in your care for this evening then." His eyes dart over to Church for a moment, brow raising a bit. It is obvious that he's a bit concerned about Church handling anything too heavy at the moment what with his shoulder, and himself still sporting some sore ribs from their fight. "Yeah. No need for anyone to hurt themselves," he repeats back.

"Well, yes," she answers, shoulders slumping a little. "My brother lives the next town over. He will be arriving tomorrow to pick me up and making arrangements to sell the house and the furniture. It is because the business must go to Luc's apprentice right away, you see. That was the agreement since his apprentice has been running it single-handedly in Luc's absence." She turns her gaze on Christine. "His name is Mathieu. A lovely young man. Oh, if only you could have met him a year ago! He was still unmarried then." Because clearly the best solution is to dump her mage daughter on this man to keep the business in the family, right? Oh, well. That ship has sailed, and it doesn't look like his wife is going to die anytime soon. Shame.

"Oh, yes! You must stay overnight. Titine, you can have your old room, and these two can take the other upstairs bedroom."

Christine frowns thoughtfully. "But is that not your bedroom?"

"Maker, no. Your father and I moved into a downstairs room years ago. Silly legs would not carry me up the stairs any longer."

It's understandable and sweet that her father shared the bedroom with her mother. Plenty of Orlesians of moderate means keep separate bedchambers so they don't end up killing each other. There is so much Christine wants to ask about her father, but it feels like they're racing against the clock now. At least she can start now and keep it up in letters.

"Well, I do not think you will be taking much of the furniture, will you?" She too worries about Sam and Church moving anything heavy after their fight against the Red Templars. "Will it not be clothes and smaller things only?"

Her mother pouts. "I suppose so. I will live in my brother's household and it is probably full enough. Your aunt collects the tackiest things." She sniffs in distaste.

"I'm just saying, whatever bigger stuff. I wasn't about to suggest we pack up all the china cupboards and vanities in the back of a wagon. Unless...that's what you want done." Who cares about his shoulder, magic healy stuff! (Okay, what he'd really like someday is an actual modern medical doctor to see how much magic actually does heal. Who knows?)

(A lot. It's not going to grow any limbs for you, but considering it can heal up a hole in your body, it's pretty effective.)

"We can use magic to move some things if we need," he points out off-handedly, rubbing the back of his neck as he contemplates how much work they will be doing.

"And how far does your brother live?" They might have to consider tagging along to make sure she gets there safely, which he is sure Christine will want.

"Oh, dear," Aimee says, looking worried. She even pulls her shawl around her a little bit tighter before whispering, "Are you allowed to do that?"

Christine has to resist laughing as she answers, "It is all right, Maman. We passed our Harrowings and can use magic responsibly. And no one outside the house will know."

"Well, in that case, I will need some trunks from the attic. Darcia can show you where. And the paintings in the dining room have to come with me. Those are portraits of my parents. And-- oh! Would you like a miniature of your father? It is in that cabinet over there." Madame Delacroix points to a cabinet tucked in the corner behind Sam's chair and Christine gets up from the sofa to head over to it.

"Yes; just open those doors. It is on the middle shelf on the left. Bring it here, darling."

For a woman who has only fuzzy memories of her father, this is a serious moment. The miniature portrait is oval and fits in the palm of her hand. Such a simple, small thing. And yet it means the world to her to see what her father actually looked like. She stares down at his image for a long moment before closing the cabinet doors and returning to her seat.

"I had this commissioned three years ago, but he looks the same here as the last time I saw him. Look at his handsome face." Suddenly Aimee's lower lip quivers and she raises her handkerchief to her nose. "Now show your friends your Père. I just need a moment."

Getting back up, she takes the portrait over to Church first, turning it towards him but not letting go. Her eyes are showing that tell tale sign that she's close to crying.

It's all fun and games until the dead parent, y'know, the reason they're even here, comes out. (And, to be honest, a big reason why he even went on the initial mission in the first place. More for Christine's sake than anything else.)

He looks at the small painting with a frown, a handsome fellow enough, and despite looking like the spitting image of her mother, he can see bits of him in Christine as well. The picture's important, yeah, but what he cares about is Christine, and he doesn't even have to think about taking her free hand in his and squeezing, giving her a sympathetic look. This is why he came. For her.

And then he lets go so she can turn to Sam.

Sounds like he just made a little bit more work for them, but if it will help Christine's mother tale a little bit more of her stuff, and memories with her, then it would be worth it.

When the portrait is turned towards him, Sam scoots a bit closer, bringing a hand up to steady the picture since it seemed that Christine was close to crying. "He is very handsome." It wasn't the same as the real thing, but at least there was something Christine could take home and remember him by.

"He is," her mother says proudly before she remembers and her face crumbles. "He was." And now it's back to crying behind her handkerchief while she waves her other hand and asks for a moment. The rest of their time before dinner is split between Madame Delacroix telling them about Luc, growing teary-eyed, lamenting that the Circles didn't fall earlier when there were more eligible young men in town that would have been perfect for Titine, and complaining about her sister-in-law.

Dinner isn't much different, conversation-wise, but they get a brief respite while packing when she asks for greater detail on what Christine does within the Inquisition. Naturally Christine leaves out any of the dangerous bits. Eventually Madame Delacroix starts yawning and asks Darcia to take the gentlemen up to their room while she speaks to Christine about something. Darcia takes up a candlestick and leads the way up the stairs and down a narrow hall. It's a bit drafty upstairs, but the season hasn't turned cold just yet.

"Here we are. It has been a very eventful day. Very sad, as well. Tomorrow... will be busy." Darcia still isn't sure if she'll be allowed to attend to her mistress or if she'll be out of a job, but her mother always told her to keep her head high and never let herself appear pitiful, so she's going to do that. "Is there anything you two might need for bed? A glass of water? More pillows? Do you need me to light a fire?"

"Uhhhh. I'm...good." He's not used to someone waiting on him hand and foot. He looks to Sam. "I mean, maybe a fire? We might be up a little bit yet."

"If there are logs in the fireplace then I can handle lighting a fire." He is a mage after all, and he doesn't want to give Darcia any more work then she already has. "Other then that I believe we are fine.

"Oh yes, there are! We haven't had overnight guys in some time." Darcia lights a candle on the nightstand for them so they can see when she leaves, not thinking of a mage producing fire on his own.

"A good night to you both!" she says, dipping a curtsy at the door and leaving them be.

It's a good ten minutes before there's a soft knock on the door and it opens a fraction of the way.

"Everyone decent?" Christine jokes from the other side.

If he was more comfortable with the idea of a servant, or had thought about it at all, he might've asked her to draw up a late bath, but alas, didn't think of it.

When Christine knocks and makes her joke, Church takes that as his cue to continue the joke. He's not loud, but certainly enough for Chris to hear. "Oh," he 'moans', "oh Sam, you're a beast, oh my goooood~"

Sorry not sorry, Sammy.

Cute Christine. Did just wearing pants count as decent?

Course before he can say anything Church is- Church is- Dear Maker, Church, what are you doing? There is a faint blush on Sam's cheeks as he literally stares at the other man, quite perplexed for a moment. Up until 'you're a beast', to which he immediately turns into a dog and kindly knocks Church to the floor and sits on him.

Sorry not sorry, Church.

Sure, Sam. It keeps your indecent bits hidden.

Church's performance leaves Christine rolling her eyes, but the noise of something being knocked over has her opening the door in alarm before she starts laughing at the sight, clapping her hands together in delight.

"I see. Shall I leave you two alone, then?"

There is a resounding oof at being on the floor, and Church is...staring. He is very much staring in bewilderment. "Uh." Point. Pointing at Sam-dog. "Did he just turn into a dog and sit on me? Am I crazy? Did I just turn delirious with crazy? Tell me I'm not crazy. Or do, because that sounds crazy. Oh my god, you're a werewolf?"

Sam looks all too proud of himself, tail wagging excitedly at Christine's reaction, which he gives a soft woof at, trying not to be overly loud at this time of night.

Once Church starts making noise again and there's a finger being pointed, Sam turns his attention to the man under him. Well he supposed not everyone knew that he could transform - good thing he didn't turn into something bigger, yeah? At being called a werewolf, Sam tilts his head curiously.

Christine comes to sit down on the bed, pressing a hand to her mouth to suppress her laughter. These two should be given medals for making her laugh in the face of everything she's had to deal with in the last few days. Oh, her boys.

"You have not gone crazy. At least, not in the last minute or so. I cannot speak for before that time." She makes a shooing gesture at Sam to please remove himself from Church's person. "It is one of the abilities mages have if they study the discipline: shapeshifting into an animal."

"You just went fucking American Werewolf in London on me, except without the gross transformation! I can't believe you can--"

Now he's gotta look at Christine. "Can you be an animal, too? Just so we know. Just so if I find like, a squirrel or something, I don't shoo it away because it's really one of our mages. Or something. Weresquirrels."

He supposes he's had his fun, so Sam does what Christine wants and gets off of Church. Moving to a space with a bit more room he once more bursts into a cloud of dark smoke, appearing as his regular self once it settles.

"Church, if you can keep it down a little bit?" he asks with a slight chuckle, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as well. "You think Christine would choose a squirrel for her first animal?" He's pretty sure Christine isn't a shapeshifter, but he's not confirming or denying that.

"No, it is a specialization. You have to study to understand how, as Sam and I both did with Spirit Healing. And I wouldn't choose shapeshifting," she adds, giving Sam a look. "I am going to become a Knight-Enchanter." She's talked about it with Korrin several times, and the ability to have a barrier that never decays is too good to pass up.

"You could do both if you wanted. And, no, I don't think she'd be a squirrel, but I mean, I don't want to think any animal we come across might be...somebody."

Church sits up, awkwardly, brushing some dog hair off him. "Seriously, though, a shapeshifting knight."

"Even though it's known, shapeshifting isn't something that many or most mages will know seeing as it wasn't taught in the Circles. So it's a pretty safe bet that most animals are just animals." Hopefully that'll calm Church a bit on that.

His attention then turns to Christine. "I didn't know you were learning to become a Knight Enchanter. Finally got swayed by those fancy swords?"

"Indeed. Sam is special. Not every mage will surprise you this way." Her attention turns to Sam and she takes a swat at his stomach.

"Swayed by the regenerating barrier, thank you very much. But I see you are all ready for bed. I only wish to stay a minute to thank you both for coming with me." She looks between the two and gives a grateful smile before she looks back at Sam and gives a sigh of suffering.

"And tell you my mother is giving me her dog. I will need your expertise. Knowing how to care for dogs must be in your blood."

"...The little yappy thing?" Because at least dog he understands. He does not understand magical swords or regenerating barriers, but at least he can understand dog-dog and not person-dog. "I mean, so long as it doesn't get its furry little ass eaten by the big war dogs."

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