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WHO: Mia Rutherford and you!
WHAT: The Commander's sister arrives at Skyhold.
WHEN: Just after people start trickling back in from the Mire.
WHERE: Skyhold's bailey.
NOTES: n/a

At last, she's made her way to the keep. It's been no small journey, but only a little farther than one she took not so many years ago. Then again, that had been years ago. A full decade now, and she might have been starting to feel it, whatever she might have said to the contrary.

That wasn't stopping Mia from bearing her own load, carrying her own belongings, and walking right alongside the next caravan headed to Skyhold.

She was glad now for the fur she'd brought with her, tucked tightly about her shoulders atop a well-used cloak. It was about as cold as she'd expected this far up in the mountains, though the sun had seen fit to peek through the clouds, and the snow was visisbly melting in the courtyard, leaving muddy puddles and little patches of green here and there. Mia's dark eyes shifted over the length of the bailey, over the scouts and soldiers and various people bustling about. Refugees, pilgrims, mercenaries, mages, templars...more than a few elves, and even a Qunari or two. Anyone else might have felt suddenly small in the midst of all this.

Instead her back straightened, and the first passerby who didn't appear overly burdened by something to do was promptly approached.

"Pardon me, but I was hoping to speak to whoever is assigning work and quarters to newcomers."

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"I don't know if anyone's assigned quarters. I've just found myself a spot and slept there since. As for work, most people just pick up and help wherever they can, while Skyhold's in disrepair. Here, let me..."

She reaches out to take some of Mia's load and carry it for her.

"Oh no, dear, that's quite alright. I have everything in hand here," Mia swiftly assures her, tightening her hold but maintaining an air of pleasantness despite the rebuff. An elf, she swiftly notes with a glance at the woman's ears. Dalish, too, if the marks on her face were any indication.

Not that it matters. It's just all very new.

"If you could just point me in the right direction, I can manage. I've come this far, a few steps farther won't kill me."

Katniss was, in fact, someone who was burdened with nothing currently until she was ... well assigned something better to do. So when she saw a woman carrying far, far too much without the help of a horse. She moved forward, cutting through the crowd of new arrivals.

"Do you need help - " take in the fine cloak, and clothes, and a quiet, "My Lady?"

"No, that's quite alright. I have it all well in hand."

Mia adjusted her grip even as she spoke, straightening a little further. The road had been tiring, it was true. Her hair was starting to come loose from the tight bun she'd held it back in, her cloak dirtied heavily along the hem, and the entire affair had reminded her that she was no longer quite as young as she had been.

Nonetheless, she gives the girl a kind smile. "Thought if you happen to know where I might be able to unburden myself for the time being, I'd be quite grateful."

All right, a point to the lady for pure gumption, as Katniss's father would say. Katniss's gaze held a note of of respect, before she tilted her chin a little, "This way, my lady. We'll take you to the main hall, and then I'll get one of Lady Montiliyet's runners to send her your introductory letter."

Because every single flipping noble seemed to have them... even if they did come bearing their own parcels. Either way, the woman clearly needed to rest from the journey. Katniss herself knew - the mountain paths were treacherous. Even with the new roads. By yourself ... hm.

She led the way towards the stairs, speaking slowly. "My Lady, did you lose your traveling party on the road?"

Edited 2015-11-23 11:42 (UTC)

Her eyebrow lifted at the mention of an introductory letter. Was that how things were done, here? She hadn't considered. It seemed an awful lot of trouble to go through, getting letters from every person to walk through that gate.

Well the Ambassador was Antivan, or so she'd heard. Perhaps that was their way.

"That would require having one in the first place," she replied primly, following the girl with another heft of her luggage and a steady step, despite the weariness in her bones. "I came alone. Less of a fuss all told, if a little trickier."

Katniss was more and more impressed by this lady by the breath. No muss, no fuss, simply getting to where she needed to go. If Katniss was ever noble - hah! - she would want to be as practical as this lady.

She paused at the landing, giving the older woman an approving look. "I agree. I did the same. Better to decide when you have had enough travel for the day, when you leave the next, instead of answering to a committee of fellow travelers."

She led the rest of the way up the steps, going to find an open table for the woman to put her things down. "Like I said ... I don't work for the quartermaster, and I'm no servant -- but you've had a long journey. Can I get you some water, some food, while you rest?" Hm. Another thoughtful look. "Or did you come for someone in particular? I can run a message."

"You're very eager to help, aren't you?"

Mia regarded her with a look, a faint smile creasing the corners of her mouth.

"All this trouble on my account, and I don't think we've even made it all the way to proper introductions."

Not that she was berating her. Anyone willing to do what they could for their fellow man was admirable enough. Perhaps the Inquisition truly had been all Cullen had described in his letters home.

"Oh. Ah. Well ..." Here Katniss looks slightly sheepish. "I don't really have anything to do, quite yet, outside of train and hunt." She shrugged, awkwardly, "And so many people come in - lost their homes, their livelihoods. I'm here, I'll help where I can."

She hating sitting idle. Even if it is just making sure someone had a good meal - well. It was enough.

Oh, right, introductions. She gave the woman a thoughtful eye. She didn't seem like the kind that would take to bowing and scrapping. She stepped forward, offering one slender, slightly calloused hand. "Katniss Everdeen."

Any illusions she might have had about Mia being nobility might have been done away with then and there, had she not been wearing gloves. Her hands were every inch as weathered and worn from labor and use, but when she reached for the young woman's hand there was nothing but warm, soft leather.

"Mia Rutherford. It's a pleasure."

And indeed it was. She seemed quite the capable young lady, and so far as Mia was concerned the world was ever in need of more.

Katniss took her hand, shaking it firmly, a smile sliding over her face that melted into shocked surprise. She didn't pull her hand away, as much as she ... well. She really needed to stop becoming tongue-tied around anyone named Rutherford.

She blinked for a moment, scrambling for a world suddenly gone slightly sideways, "Oh! Then you must be Commander Cullen's ... " Let's go with the worst case scenario first, shall we? "Wife?"

For a moment she stared bemusedly. There they stood, the two of them, surprise claiming the silence that resulted.

Then a bark of laughter escaped her, a broad smile creasing the corners of her eyes as she shook her head. "Wife. Ah. I'm of the impression my little brother is married to his work," she clarified, still smirking. "There's nothing for it, I'm afraid."

There is nothing for it, the relief that passes over Katniss's face is palatable. "Oh ... good." Ugh, Katniss. "I mean, not of course that it is good that he is married to his work. Just I ... I ... would have hated to have left the Commander's wife in the main hall."

Oh Maker. "Not that his sister should be left in the main hall - ah - like ... I said, I can run a message to him, if you like."

And that's quite enough of that. Mia steps forward to place a hand on the girl's arm, squeezing lightly.

"Breathe, girl. I'm not going to eat you." Though her nervous energy is somewhat endearing, she hardly has need to be nervous around her. "I'll speak to Cullen myself once I've settled in. Less chance of being turned out, that way."

She chuckles lightly.

"But if you wish to warn him, it'll likely earn you some favor with him."

The relief in Katniss's eyes is almost palatable, but her expression remains calm.

"I didn't think you would eat me, Lady Rutherford." One corner of her mouth twisted, "I just ... don't want to be rude to you. Or him."

Ever, if possible. Probably impossible, considering herself.

Her lips curve up at the corners, "Have you come to nag the Commander to sleep and eat, my Lady? He needs it."

"I don't doubt. But I'm here to do more than that, Maker willing."

She takes a swift breath, one hand lifting to tuck a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. The whole damn thing's a mess now, but she'll keep herself together through sheer will if nothing else.

"And 'Mia' will do just fine, dear. I'm no nobleborn."

Katniss tipped her head, slightly, before one corner of her mouth lifted, "Let me guess. You're here to organize, put a shoulder in, and inspire."

Because Mia Rutherford seemed very like her brother in that aspect. Or at least, Cullen seemed like his sister.

But - wait - what? "You ... aren't nobleborn? The Ruthefords are common folk?"

"As common as they come." Her lips curved wider. "Though I understand how one could mistake him for nobility. Very disciplined, even as a boy. In spite of the templars, I might even say."

She huffed, pulling her cloak tighter around her.

"I don't suppose he'd speak much of home. Though in fairness, he doesn't speak much to us, either," she added, a bit wryly.

"Oh." It was as if dawn had suddenly come over Katniss's face, something lighting her from within, "Oh."

She had thought ... well, she thought she was too low-born to try and court someone like Commander Cullen Rutherford. But he - his family - were not noble. Not Noble.

"... I've only really talked to him once." Is her honest reply, as she flushed, "It was a very memorable conversation, though." Curiosity grabbed her, "Are you a large family?"

Well. If that wasn't a completely obvious sign, she wouldn't know what was.

She regarded Katniss carefully for a moment, wondering if the girl knew how obvious she was being...or how oblivious Cullen could be. Girl had her work cut out for her, if that was her aim. Mia couldn't really say she disapproved, however. A smart, capable, helpful girl seemed every bit what Cullen needed, in truth.

She cleared her throat briefly, that smile faltering only slightly. "Once larger, before the Blight. Now I'm afraid it's just the four of us. Cullen, Branson, Rosalie, and myself."

Mia, you will find that Katniss could put on a good cold expression for just about anything. She could walk through here with complete apathy, and no one would blink twice. She didn't give away much.

... unfortunately Cullen Rutherford had managed to break that cold apathy with one bloody smile, so.

Sympathy and understanding flashed over her face then, "I'm very sorry for your loss, Madam Rutherford. I ... lost my father during the Blight as well."

"Terrible time."

But the extent of that sorrow was hers to bear, and hers alone. Now she simply places a hand on Katniss's shoulder with a nod, that understanding and sympathy returned. No one escaped the Blight unscathed, it seemed.

"We've managed, since. Now, with the other two off to have families of their own, I thought I might make use of myself in some better way than keeping books for the local merchants. Just like the Blight, the Rifts will doubtlessly affect us all."

"Yes, it was."

She shivered faintly, at the thought, but the sympathy was appreciated. The ... touching she was getting used to.

"Well, Madam, you'll find no lack of making yourself useful here." She stated simply, "There are thousands here - most soldiers, agents of the Inquisition. But there are those faithful who are just thrown into the mix - a lot of them don't have food, clothing, a warm place to sleep. There are orphans here, and god knows enough wounded soldiers from Haven..."

"And they'll need tending to, I'm sure. War tends to overlook the victims."

She sighed heavily, clucking her tongue and looking about. It was better than she feared, but worse than she might have hoped for. So much room to improve, without question...and if there was one thing driving her now, it was the desire to make life better for some of these poor souls.

She remembered too well how hard it was managing on one's own.

"Well we can find out what the Inquisition is willing to provide them, and make sure it gets distributed properly. I don't doubt another set of eyes keeping track of things will be of use to someone somewhere. These people will need a voice in the days to come."

"It truly does, Madame Rutherford." Of her childhood, she had proof enough of that.

Another flicker of admiration - this woman was not going to sit idly by and just let things be. She had the same lift of her chin as her brother, as he looked over Skyhold. She was going to do something about all this.

"They do - some more than others." She pauses, and then states firmly, "There are the orphans, of course, and the displaced. The elves are getting it particularly bad - unless they are Dalish. Not from their treatment ... but they were able to bring so little to begin with. And of course, there are the ostracized. The Tranquil. The Casteless. The half-bloods, like me."

"It sounds as if you've already had a good look at the lay of the land, so to speak." Mia's lips curved faintly. "If you can help me collect numbers, we can arrange priority to those most in need. Perhaps organize them into groups with a representative to help keep track of what they need."

It might be too much to hope for that they'd sort this out on their own. But a little encouragement, a reminder that they had not been forgotten, might go further than one might initially think.

"... I hunt, and what I don't use for myself and the Inquisition, I give to the people." There wasn't going to be much of a ferrec problem in Skyhold, she could promise you that. "And, certainly. I can give you a pretty good number of the families here, along with the others."

She had visited them all, at one point or another. The ones who weren't officially in the Inquisition, but came to build, to help.

"Wonderful. That's a start."

She had no intention of sitting idle, after all. Drawing a deep breath, Mia smoothed out her traveling dress and drew a smile across her lips, more determination than force. "But. I can't do much on an empty stomach. Let's have ourselves a meal, and you can tell me what's what around here, mm?"

Later, she'd track Cullen down for more of the same, though the topic would not likely simply stay on business. Better to learn what she could now from the dear girl.

Katniss couldn't help but smile at that, before she blinked once, then twice with surprise. "Ah ... well, yes." She put one hand over her stomach, looking wry, "To be honest, I'm always a little bit hungry. Not much up on the gossip -- but I'll tell you what I can about the day to day here."

New arrivals happen at on an hourly basis at Skyhold, and while Cullen does happen to be in the courtyard near the gates, he's hardly paying attention to who enters and who leaves. Reports are coming back from the Fallow Mire as people are beginning to return, and far more questions than answers are being brought to his attention. There were certain times of the day where he wondered if it would ever get easier, and immediately he knows that if it did, there would be trouble.

But he hears a voice that he hasn't heard in a rather long time. He stops listening to the scout in front of him as he turns his ear to the background noise. It couldn't be. The thinner air and his mind must be playing tricks on him, he thinks.

It's been years since they've actually laid eyes on one another. Some part of her wonders if he'll at all resemble the little brother that exists in her mind's eye. Nothing remains the same, of course. The years have seen them both through hardship, and that changes a person inside and out.

But when she catches a glimpse of him at the gates, getting a report from one of the scouts she'd seen hurrying past, doubt flickers and vanishes. She'd know him anywhere, after all.

Well. Nothing else for it. He's bound to know she's here eventually. Chin lifted, she makes her way towards the commander, back a little straighter than before.

The briefing the scout gives him is the usual. They don't like the muck. There's too many dead things. Why doesn't it stop raining. It's a wonder anyone got anything done while they were there. There's more vague nodding at the report; he's half listening, half reading the written paper in his hands. "Good work. Direct the scouts to me as they arrive back."

Cullen would send the scout scurrying away after that, and there's a brief moment of him running a gloved hand over his face. He's tired, but he's not going to let anyone else see. He knows he'll eventually make it back up to his office at some point. He'll rest then. There were other things that needed to be done that were far more important.

"How did I know," she began, once she was close enough to be heard over the din in the courtyard, "that when I found you, you'd be overworking yourself yet again?"

Her hands folded primly in front of her as she came to a stop, taking him in with a concern that lingered all too clearly in her eyes. The rest of her looked poised to give him a tongue-lashing if he misstepped.

"I suppose that answers why you hadn't bothered to write home and let us know you survived," she added tartly, one eyebrow lifting.

Cullen turns quickly, with a definite look of surprise and confusion on his face. Surprised to see her here, confusion as to why. "Mia!" Is his initial exclamation.

Shock quickly wears off, and he's taking the few steps closer to close the gap between them. "Forgive me, there's so much to do, so many things to take care of while we're settling in here. I swear I've been planning to write." A pause, then a deep breath. "It is good to see you."

It's not necessarily the greeting she expected. Perhaps some trace of that stubbornness she remembered, a protest as to why she was there, questions of all sorts. That he simply and unabashedly greets her in such a way takes her off-guard for a moment.

Who are you and what have you done with Cullen?

It's not like her to stay off her guard, however, and she quickly recovers, smiling tightly. "Well your manners certainly improved," she murmurs, before stepping in to take a better look at him. There isn't an inch that doesn't receive scrutiny.

After all, he was so very young when last she set eyes on him. Things were different then, simpler. Or perhaps neither of them knew better at that point.

"Pleasantries aside," he starts, and well, there go his manners. "What in the Maker's name are you doing here?"

Because the last place she should be is in a warzone. Cullen won't have it. She is family, someone very dear to his heart, and he will not have anyone else die on him.

Mia only gives him a stern look in turn. Alright, that she'd been prepared for.

"The same thing all these other people are doing here, I'd wager. Trying to make a difference." Her lips pursed for a moment, and she'd squared off her shoulders. "You've got a lot on your plate. It might behoove you to have some people to delegate to, if nothing else."

See? No battlefields or warzones here. She's perfectly happy to take care of things here in Skyhold. Surely no harm could come from that.

"I do delegate. You act as if I must do everything myself." Please don't answer that. He already knows the answer. He really should send her away. He knows Skyhold is safe, but there is always that nagging feeling in the back of his mind that the defenses aren't secure enough yet or that Corypheus and his band of templars and mages could attack at any moment and they won't be ready. The last thing he wants to see- No, he won't think that.

"Alright." He concedes, though he was sure enough that she was going to stay whether he said yes or not. "No scaring any of the new recruits."

"So they may stand in the face of a...creature of Chantry legend, but I should refrain from frightening them."

Oh, the looks she gives him at that. She doesn't put her hands to her hips quite yet, but it's a close thing.

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