faderift | [open]

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."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"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."

[open]

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