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WHO: Katniss Everdeen, and Innocent Bystanders (aka you)
WHAT: Katniss 'performs' at the training grounds of Skyhold.
WHEN: Covering a few hours span.
WHERE: Training grounds, then Skyhold.
NOTES: Warnings for mild violence, slight classism, and the death of innocent apples.

The sun was starting to dip into the afternoon, when a young woman finally crested over the mountain path, and found herself in the valley of Skyhold. She paused at the crest of the hill, weariness and despair taking a brief pause as she stared in open amazement at the fortress itself ... and the army waiting below. They must have filled the entire valley, and temporary structures were already popping up all along the bridge.

There was a wheeze from behind her, and she turned to raise one dark eyebrow at the horse she was leading by the reins. "Ye-es, I know. You're hungry, you're thirsty, you've been that way since we left our last camp. Don't worry, I hear Master Dennet is around here somewhere ... he'll spoil you to your heart's content, you big baby."

A hiss answered that, and she glowered at one of her saddlebags, where Buttercup, the cat, glowered back at her. "I don't even want to hear it from you, demon-cat. You got to ride all the way."

She tugged on the reins, shifting her bow over her shoulder a little more, clicking her tongue softly as the unlikely trio continued to travel down into the valley. It did not take long to at least find some of the horse master's assistants to watch out for Haymitch (and she warned them fiercely against messing with Buttercup.). Katniss herself grabbed a quiver, and unhooked the other saddlebag to carry along with her as she made her way through the camp itself. She spoke little, only pausing one sister to ask where the lines for recruitment were.

Yet for as little as she spoke, she garnered sideways glances. To her travel-stained clothes, to old bow upon her back and the quiver of homemade arrows over her shoulder. The dark hair, braided over one shoulder that was coming out in wisps. Whispers, a few smirks. Another country bumpkin, coming to 'aid the Inquisition'.

Most of the soldiers were quiet in their condemnation, or remembered when they too came to the Inquisition with straw in their hair and fire in their bellies, but there were a few that could not resist the snide remarks. There was not a flicker of emotion across the young woman's face, outside of her eyes narrowing slightly. She did not stop and respond to a single cat-call, and her expression was a mask of apathy as she stepped into line with a half a dozen others to where the registration was. There appeared to be practice dummies for one and all to show their various weapon skills. The young woman watched, almost bored, as each new 'recruit' stepped up to the dummies. Some weren't half bad. Others were ... quickly mocked to go help the Inquisition as part of the kitchen or working staff. She continued to watch, her eyes narrowing further when one young woman left in tears, and an old man left with his head bowed.

Her fist clenched, slightly, around her bow, and she noted those behind her melted away, not wishing to be humiliated. She stood her ground, however, and stepped forward to face two bored looking soldiers - one wearing the Templar armor, and the other wearing the stripes of a Lieutenant. Both of them were eating their lunch, and neither one of them looked impressed with the young woman.

Which was fine. She wasn't much impressed with them either.

"Name." Asked the lieutenant flatly.

"Katniss Everdeen." Was her equally flat reply.

"Nation of Origin." Came the next bored question.

"Fereldan by one parent, unknown by the other." Came her now faintly tart response. When the lieutenant frowned at her, she stated, "My mother was Dalish."

"Oh ... flat-ear then." Said the Lieutenant, writing that down on the form in front of him, not seeing the cold flash of anger that came through steel-colored eyes. "Right, and you're ...some sort of archer?"

"Yes. I am some kind of archer." Was her quiet reply.

The templar snorted. "We'll be the judge of that. Your performance will be judged on a scale of one through ten, for accuracy and speed."

Katniss Everdeen said nothing, merely unhooked her bow from her back and went to stand in front of the first practice dummy. All around her, murmurs were raising, quiet laughs. The two soldiers munching on their lunch...

Close your eyes. Exhale. You are the target. Were the words echoing through her mind. Her eyes snapped open, her fingers released the arrow and it sang through the air where it landed dead center of the practice dummy.

Around her, there were faint murmurs of surprise, and approval. From behind her, there was ... still munching, and the two officers talking with one another and ignoring her. Her shoulders setting a little, she moved ten paces back, and then to the right. Taking aim. Exhale. Thwack. Right in the center of target again.

Behind her, she could hear the two officers still jawing at one another.

"...s'not bad."

"S'not a challege! It's a bloody *crunch* steady target at bloody twenty paces. My infirm granny could make that shot. But really, what can you expect from a bloody blunt-ear - "

The officer's words were cut off when Katniss suddenly turned, bow in hand, and let loose an arrow that flew right through the apple he was waving through the air, sending it into a barrel twenty feet behind. The templar let out a faint noise 'Ah!' before the chicken leg he was holding was ripped from his grip by another arrow, sending it flying behind him. Katniss began run backwards, notching another arrow as she went. Shooting as she moved, she clipped their tin mugs over their laps, sinking into the barrels behind them once more. All the way back to a pile of crates about fifty paces from the targets - one hundred paces from the table itself. Both men had the training to drop to the ground and push the table up, to use as a shield, and as they did, two more arrows flew and struck the table, twice.

Silence fell over the training grounds.

Then there was the sound of someone jumping down off of a height, and booted feet moved over to the table. The sound of fingers scrapping against the ground to pick something up, and then a continued course to the table. The lieutenant and the templar stood, hands going for their swords, but all Katniss Everdeen did at this point was to hook her bow to her back, and in the other hand hold the half spilled inkwell. She put one booted foot to the table, sending it upright with a groan.

The two arrows, neatly piercing Katniss's own application for service -- and the quill. She plucked the quill out, and put the inkwell down on the table, and tore the paper free. Then she wrote '10' in large handwriting. She put it down before the two soldiers, looking from one to the other ... and bowed. Deeply.

Then she turned on her heel, the crowd of soldiers and workers parting before her.

~~~~

Hours later, if one were to come looking for the Some Kind Of Archer Girl, they'll find her on the walls of Skyhold, looking off to the distant mountains. Her belongings are with her, as is her rather grumpy cat, her bow resting against the wall. Her expression is tense, certainly, but anyone clever (or suicidal) enough should know how to approach two angry predators, yes?

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Immediately, Ariadne was swimming in a familiar sea. The refugees had been pouring into Valeria for the last eight or nine years of her life. She knew the score and was horrified that she had nothing to offer the other woman.

It didn't help that she didn't know where she was coming from. The land and its context were still strangers to me.

But refugees were refugees.

"Oh," she said, her voice filled with a sort of childlike sincerity. "What happened?"

She wished she had that stupid, too-big cloak that Korrin had given her. She'd given it to some of the children following her around.

Shimmers of anger, and grief, and she looks at the woman as if she is at fault but -- no. Not with that face, those quiet, childlike eyes. It reminds her too strongly of Primrose.

So she spoke honestly, if not ... briefly. "The mage and templar war. My sister was caught in the midst of the ... battles in the Hinterlands." She looks down at the cat again, her voice hardening, "When I had returned, the Inquisition had already buried her. When I went home, it had been burnt to the ground. I only found a few of our items and of course ... this furball."

Buttercup bit her finger, but not hard enough to break the skin. Katniss set her face to cool apathy. "So here we are. I owe the Inquisition, and I intend to repay the debt."

Something unexpected happened. In spite of all of her experience in helping refugees and fighting the Red Dragon, Airy found herself caught up in the story. Perhaps it was owing to the fact that she was so far from home. She hadn't really thought properly about what happened in Deleo since arriving. "I lost brothers and sisters when my home was burned to the ground," she whispered softly, more to herself than the other woman.

Without trying too hard, she could smell the smoke and remember the screaming all over again.

But that did no one any good.

She snapped herself back to the present, reminding herself that there was a here and now and a woman who might need her help. "Is there something I can get you?" she asked. "I know where they keep the food. And I've seen a few unclaimed bed spaces that are nice."

Katniss looked up from Buttercup, her own gaze filling with sorrow, and understanding. She curled Buttercup up a little more, before she spoke, "I am so, so sorry ... was it ... was it in the war?"

Which war, was probably a better question. Why was everyone fighting one another? What did it do, besides pull innocents into the firing range?

She paused, before her mouth quirked a little sadly, "I feel I should ask you the same thing. But, ah, here ... you hold Buttercup, because apparently we all need ... a furball. And then you can show me where I can stash my things." Another pause. "Away from ... people."

She was grateful to be spared having to answer to her family being slaughtered in the war. Because, yes, they had been casualties of a war. But since the other woman didn't seem to realize that Ariadne was from another world entirely, she was happy to keep it that way.

Accepting the cat, a bit more carefully than before, she nodded her head in the direction of the encampment. "Follow me," she said. "I know a great spot that you'll like."

She started to walk, but had only taken a few steps before she stopped herself. "I don't...I don't even know your name."

To be honest, Katniss had yet to be exposed at all to the term called 'Rifters', but honestly ... she had never really been welcomed with open arms either. So being an outsider was something she could empathize with.

If she did not already feel that sense of empathy already.

Buttercup answered the change in holding by flattening his ears briefly, before curling up tightly in Ariande's grip. He'd already claimed her, after all. Katniss watched her walk a few steps, her mouth holding a faint, weary smile.

"Katniss. Katniss Everdeen. And hold a moment, I'll gather my things."

Ariadne turned to look at the cat. Really, really look at the cat. Eyes to eyes. Although she was a pacifist, Ariadne knew she came from a predator race. Establishing dominance through eye contact was important. And would keep the cat from biting her again.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Everdeen," she said. She attempted a curtsy, but it was awkward, between holding the cat and trying not to break eye contact. "You have a very, very pretty name."

Another flower, now that she thought about it.

Buttercup looked up at Ariadne, and narrowed his yellow eyes on her. Then ... he snuffed. Buttercup named no one as dominant over him - but he would recognize an equal when he saw one. No more biting, Ariande. You are one of his people.

Katniss's mouth twisted. "No lady I. Just Katniss will do." She turned on her heel, then paused, looking back at the woman. "What is your name?"

Katniss. She would remember that. Ariadne always defaulted to 'lady' or 'lord' with Elves. At least until they told her otherwise. It was generally a safe assumption in her circles, anyway. After all, she indirectly served Princess Amanda. Who had a surprisingly large contingent of nobles still left in her little underground resistance movement.

But Katniss it would be.

She started walking again, giving Buttercup's belly a gently stroke with her fingertip. "Ariadne," she said. "But you can call me 'Airy' if you want. Most people do."

Katniss was what she was, and she'd never been born to any noble line. Her father was a hunter, her mother was a Dalish healer. Neither one of them really sparked anything like gentility in her. If there was anything Katniss knew, it was herself.

"Airy ... any reason or just because Ariadne can have people tripping over their tongues?" Katniss asked, as she gathered up her saddlebags and bow.

"I think that was it at first," she said, holding out her hand to take something, if Katniss was feeling burdened. "But my aunt says it's also because I have an 'airy' personality. I'm not entirely sure what that means but..."

She shrugged.

It wasn't as if Ariadne objected. She was quite hard to offend, really.

"Perhaps it means you make people feel lighter?" This is what Katniss means literally, she is not trying for charm. She eyes everything, and hands Airy Buttercup's satchel. She took everything else, making sure is hooked together properly.

"Lead the way."

Ariadne took the satchel without comment and started walking.

It was true. She was often told that she was too optimistic for her own good. And she could see it in people's eyes, when she talked to them. Especially the refugees. At first, they'd narrow their gazes in skepticism. But the more she talked, the more they would open again. And it wasn't something she was trying to do illicitly or intentionally.

It just...happened.

She walked for a little while, skirting along the edges of the settlement. And after awhile, they came to a...well. From the outside, it looked like a lopsided shack, barely standing. That was why no one had tried to settle into it. But the thing of it was, there was a tree growing straight through the middle, keeping the ceiling raised. Ariadne wasn't sure if it was magic, if the house had somehow been resettled, or if the tree had always been there. But she found it strangely enchanting.

Katniss looked at the house, her gaze thoughtful as she took in the tree that kept the roof standing. She nodded her head, and put down one of her satchels.

"I found a spot in one of the broken down towers ... but I like this better. It will take a little bit to make it more liveable though, so I shall sleep in the tower while I ... fix this place up, I suppose." She turned back to Airy, biting her lip, "I ... am grateful. Thank you. You are ...welcome any time."

Ariadne smiled, her gray eyes lighting up like silver coins. She set Buttercup down, hoping that he would approve as well. She knew she'd like it if she were a cat. So many different surfaces to climb.

"I'd offer you the same, but I don't really have a space," she said. "There are a lot of people who need it more. And anyway, I'm hoping I can go home again soon."

A hope, she had to admit, that felt a little thin lately. Not because she thought it was impossible, but because she didn't know how. And not a lot of people seemed to be looking for ways.

Katniss arched both eyebrows up at that, before she noted that Buttercup had gone directly to the tree. All right, that seemed ... just about right then. She would get some tools and get started on this place as soon as she could barter for them.

"Well I can't argue the need - but even you better have a place to sleep, Ariadne." She stated firmly, "And if you do not, I'm going to make sure you get one."

She looks back at the other woman, curiously, "Where is home for you?"

She smiled faintly, lowering her eyes. Like all Alastrians, Ariadne wore her hair long. A rope-like braid fell over her left shoulder, down to her hips--such as they were.

It was easy to tuck her face behind it a little bit. To hide.

"I'm from Valeria," she said. "And I know that you haven't heard of it. No one here has."

Katniss's eyes widened a touch, before she suddenly realized - She is from one of the Rifts. She fought the urge to ask if she glowed, before she said simply, "You must miss home a great deal. And ... the shard in your hand, what does it do? Will it help you get home again?"

Edited 2015-11-23 02:22 (UTC)

Ariadne's eyes snapped up, a little startled, but not unpleasantly so. "That's..." She paused, trying to find the right words. "...that's the nicest thing anyone's said to me."

She was eyed with suspicion more than anything else. And doubt. She was constantly accused of being a demon and, while she was one, she certainly wasn't the sort that came out of that Rift with her.

A little sympathy was apparently something she'd really needed.

"I..." She glanced disdainfully down at the shard in her hand. "I don't know what it does...exactly. But I don't think it'll send me home."

"...Really? You must not think much of Thedas, then." Katniss said wryly, before she tilted her head to the side. "We're not all rude bastards. Some of us are only rude bastards half of the time."

She looked down at her hand, and the shard presented there, "They say the Herald used the mark on her hand to close the Rift. Can the shards do the same thing?"

She laughed softly. In truth, she didn't think people were rude bastards. Not exactly. She just understood that people were always frightened by what they didn't understand. Which meant they had a tendency to jump to conclusions. The onus was on her to prove them wrong.

"I don't know," she said, turning her hand over to let Katniss get the full sight of the shard. "I haven't really had an opportunity to try. And I'm not sure how it would work. I've never really used magic before."

She smiled slightly, because if she had gotten someone to laugh at one of her horrible jokes then at least there was something of the girl she used to be in there. She would point out that most people were rude bastards. Most of them just tried to be something else.

She moved towards Ariadne, so she could look down at the shards. "I wish I could tell you. I just signed up for this madness a few hours ago. I don't even have magic to tell you how it did that."

The way Katniss smiled made Ariadne think that she didn't do it often. It seemed a little rusty. Out of practice. And that seemed bitterly sad to her. Understandable, in light of everything she'd been through in her own world. But no less sad.

"If you don't mind my asking," Ariadne said, "what exactly did you sign up for?"

She was only just beginning to grasp the complexities of this place. And she didn't fully understand the Inquisition. The word itself left a bad taste in her mouth. It reminded her of demon hunters and the Knights of Genetic Purity. To say nothing of the Red Dragon himself.

The first time she had smiled, and meant it, had been an hour ago on the wall with one Cullen Rutherford. Commander of the Inquisition Army, charming, honorable and just ... well yes. Before that, near two months had gone since she had smiled. Had laughed. Had felt anything but grim resolve, grief, and rage.

And when that broke down - when she had lost literally everything in her life that had meaning? Despair. Utter despair.

So Ariadne's question prompted quiet honesty. She deserved that much, "A quick death, doing the right thing."

She looked up from Ariadne's hand, giving her a bitter smile. "Although, I am not quite sure what that right thing is, and what I shall be doing for it."

"Everyone knows what the right thing is," Ariadne said, with utter, solemn sincerity. "You're born knowing it. It's just that sometimes the world confuses you about it and you end up straying."

She genuinely believed it. Everyone had goodness in them. Even the Red Dragon, the man responsible for the deaths of millions, including her brothers and sisters. The light had dimmed. But nothing in the universe could make it go out entirely. And if only it could be kindled again...

Well.

The probabilities were bleak, but they were there. Back in Valeria, anyway.

"As for a quick death, well, I don't believe that."

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