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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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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."

Katniss seemed slightly taken-aback by that, but that was something her father would have said, or Primrose. Something that tugged up the corner of her lips again. She wished she could believe that - but perhaps it was simply because she had lost her own way.

It was hard to believe in the good in people, when people had taken all the good from her.

Still, she still did believe ...

"Oh? You think I'll have a lingering death instead? Seems rather dark for you, Airy." Is her faintly wry reply.

"No," Ariadne replied. "I think that if you'd really wanted a quick death, you would have jumped off the wall when you were up there earlier."

Not that Ariadne would have approved. But it wasn't her place to approve or disapprove.

Only to observe.

"Most people who say they're looking for a quick death are really looking for something worth living for. Which isn't the same thing." She paused. "Also, people who want a quick death usually don't keep pets."

One corner of Katniss's mouth lifted in an appreciative smirk, before she said with a faint touch of tartness. "What makes you think I won't go back and try later?"

She moves away at that statement, her jaw tightening. She didn't want to think of that - didn't want to think she could continue living in a world without her father, without Prim, without her home. What in the name of the Maker and all the Gods of the Elvhen could be worth it?

Warm brown eyes flashed her memory, a smile that pulled a scar on his upper lip and lit up his entire face...

When she shook her head to clear that vision, she saw a pair of yellow eyes meeting hers. Buttercup, watching her as he did. "... And maybe, just maybe, I'm sticking around to make sure the demon-cat doesn't end up causing more trouble."

Ariadne turned to look at the cat, before returning her eyes to Katniss. "That sounds like it's going to be a long-term investment to me," she said.

She hoped. Although she didn't truly believe Katniss meant to do herself harm, there were certain personalities that would do things just to spite her optimism. She didn't like the thought of Katniss being one of them.

Hopefully not.

"He seems like he's going to be getting into a lot of trouble."

"I suppose it will be. And he will. Trust me, he will." She stopped, before giving Ariadne a suspicious look, "Why do I suddenly think that you're going to be just as much trouble, and are likely to get in just as much mischief just by being this bloody optimistic and cheerful?"

She seemed the type. Nice, giving, and going to stumble her way right into a lot of danger. Why, oh why, did she know so many of these people?

That made Ariadne laugh. A genuine, light, bell-like sound that filled the air, making her truly live up to that nickname. "You wouldn't be the first to think so," she replied happily. "But if it makes you feel any better, I doubt you'll be the last."

Ariadne was optimistic and cheerful. Bloody optimistic and cheerful. But she was also a survivor.

There was a lot more to her than there was to her.

Katniss folded her arms over her chest, giving Ariadne her full smirk, before she rolled her eyes and reached into her saddlebag. She took out a piece of chalk, and started to write on the wall in broad handwriting. Katniss Everdeen. Claimed. She paused, before adding, Beware of Cat and Overly Cheerful Visitors.

She tucked it into her pants again, before jerking her chin at Airy. "Come on. I have to see what I can borrow for tools to fix this place up, and leave the rest of my stuff in the tower. For now."

Ariadne laughed again, bowing her head slightly. Anyone who wanted to call her 'overly cheerful' was more than welcome to do so.

Besides, putting up a warning like that clearly meant that Katniss would live for some time yet. But she decided not to point it out.

She would just privately gloat.

"All right," she agreed.

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