OPEN

[pinprick]

WHO: Nathaniel Howe and YOU
WHAT: Meandering open post
WHEN: Month of Kingsway/September
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: Will edit with any warnings that come up.

I. CLOSED - Loghain

In the Gallows training yard, Nathaniel sinks another arrow deep into a target--an inevitability of a bow of its draw weight, not a result of his skill. The accuracy is good, but he would like it to be better. He can't even blame his rheumatism today--it's his pride that demands perfection.

While retrieving his arrows, he spots Loghain with his sword and shield. He considers the man for a moment. Loghain is no longer in his prime, but he could still knock over a golem if he had a good running start. Nathaniel isn't in his prime either, but he could be better, and Loghain is one of the best. If he challenges Loghain and is beaten, he could learn from one of the best. If he challenges Loghain and wins, he could have beaten one of the best. And if that person happens to have a face he wants to punch, all the better.

He chooses a sword from the rack and approaches. He practices with the sword often these days, for he can wield it on days when his rheumatism keeps him from drawing a longbow. And it was what his old master taught him. He gestures to get Loghain's attention and sinks into a fighting stance with only the sword and no shield.

"Are you fighting the air because it's easy on your joints, old man?"

II. OFFICE

Nathaniel is tired of writing letters. He's tired of sending news and tired of follow-up questions. The Hero of Ferelden has been dead for months. It shouldn't feel like he's been dying all this time. And he has a headache.

After some time, he glances surreptitiously down the hall, closes his door, sits back down, and pulls out a pair of reading spectacles to finish up this batch. They have always been a last resort, and he is out of resorts. Anyone bursting in without knocking is likely to see him with them for the first time in their lives.

III. HIGHTOWN/DOCKS/GALLOWS

The grizzled, broad-shouldered ranger emerges grimly from the new Hightown forest, scowling in a manly fashion and carrying a basket piled high with fresh fruit and wildflowers. He's heading for the docks to catch the ferry back to the Gallows.

Dare you to say anything.

IV. BETHANY

The grim warrior halts upon seeing Bethany Hawke Darton in the courtyard. He picks up one bunch of the flowers and approaches her with dark purpose. By the time he arrives in front of her, he has smiled and is holding out the flowers wordlessly.

V. PETRANA

Seeing Petra, the dark shadow and pinprick who carries the poison stops and gives her a bunch of late summer wildflowers and a beaming smile.

VI. CLOSED - Anders

By the time Anders returns from work, Nathaniel has lit the fire. He bought fresh, as in 'was swimming in the sea a few hours ago', mackerels and grilled them over the fire, toasted some day-old bread, and baked a bubbling berry pie. The last of the wildflowers are on the table when the door opens, and Nathaniel moves to collect dinner from where it has been kept warm near the fire.

"We are," he declares in a tone that will brook no argument, "eating dinner together tonight. I don't care what you have left to do, you have time to sit down and eat a meal with your husband."

Comments

Flowers Lol

[sunshinethroughgrey]

Bethany is sitting in the Gallows courtyard with her knitting, and a bunch of burlap sacks. Some of them already have knitted blankets within, and some of them are empty, but she's got a look on her face that says she's determined to make sure they all end up with a blanket in them in the near future. It's getting cold again, after all.

The intense look on her face fades into a confused frown and headtilt as Nate comes towards her with such a serious look on his face that everyone has parted before him nervously. She tips her head quizzically to the side - and then the flowers are brought out and she lets out a delighted laugh.

"Oh Nathaniel, you shouldn't have!" She beams, putting down her knitting to take the blossoms, kissing his grizzled cheek fondly.

And ...everyone around them breaths out a confused sigh of relief. Wardens. So damned strange.

[pinprick]

Nathaniel beams and kisses her cheek back, his stubbly cheek against her smooth.

"I couldn't resist. How are you?"

[sunshinethroughgrey]

"I am quite well and quite busy, as you can see." She gestured to her operation. "Beyond that, I am nose-deep in research and elbow-deep in physical training, if you can believe it. Pel is teaching me how to become an Arcane Warrior."

She wraps her arm through his and tugs him back near her so they can sit together, still breathing in her flowers. "This is so sweet. What made you think of them?"

[pinprick]

"I was in the...blood magic forest, gathering fruit. Evidently it's quite safe in there. Those flowers were there, and I thought of my little sister, of course."

[sunshinethroughgrey]

The look she gave him was wry. "You know, it would get a lot more good public feeling if we stop calling it the 'blood magic forest'." She breathed in the flowers again, her tone going soft with amazement. "My, what a mage that Sina is."

That Anders one

[justice_is_blond]

He has several sheets of parchment in his hand and a slightly harried look when he comes in, which may or may not be related to Purrelden holding a loud one-sided conversation on his shoulder as she digs her claws in to the extra padding he's sewn there. The scent of fresh food hits him, bread and fish and pie?, and Nate's words make him take a breath in and out and smile faintly.

"Let me feed this ravenous beast before she tries eating me, and then yes." The papers get set down on their desk before he's pulling a carefully wrapped package of meat out of his pouch and portioning it for both of the ravenous beasts. Then, immediate chores done, he comes over to kiss Nate on the cheek.

"I've been a little too absent of late again, haven't I. I'm sorry, love. I'm glad to spend time with you."

[pinprick]

Nathaniel kisses back. "We're both busy. And we do make some time, it just feels like the time we have is always stolen. Like when you turned up in my office naked."

A beat as his fork hovers over his mackerel.

"Not that I'm complaining about you turning up in my office naked," he says emphatically. He pulls an immaculate fish flake off with his fork. He has overcooked it a touch, but it will still be fresh mackerel.

[justice_is_blond]

He looks a little sheepish until Nate adds the second part, and then Anders' smile turns proud.

"I'll remember that," he says with a chuckle. Anders pulls the chairs out from their small table and leans in to smell the fresh flowers Nate's brought. This is nice. It's so close to what he's dreamed of, some days. Now if they weren't in Kirkwall... But that's a thought for another time.

He sets out plates and silverware and napkins. "I'll take it as encouragement, too. Do you need a hand bringing the food over?"

[pinprick]

"No, love, I have it." He sets the testing fork aside and pulls the food away from the fire. The toast goes on the plates first, then the fish, over which is spooned some of the gravy and juices from the cooking. It's simple fare, but simple is what Nathaniel is best at. Anything he tries to make complicated turns out stewish and sloppy and all tasting the same.

"How was your day?"

[justice_is_blond]

It's nice when Nate cooks simply. He's had Fereldan 'stew' before and is never a fan of grey sludge, but Nate is talented when it comes to these meals. ...And it's not really like Anders is used to fancy fare.

He takes his plate and settles in, savoring the scent for a moment before starting to get a forkful.

"You remember I mentioned Kasun the other day? The little mage? She slipped up with ice and the whole floor froze over, but thankfully after a few tense seconds people started laughing rather than panicking. I never know what's going to happen when a student makes an error. Yours?" There's a reason he's not teaching any fire or force magic inside the building itself; they've an area outside the building for that.

The first bite gets a noise of approval - everything turned out tasty.

[mactears]

All things considered, Loghain can't find much to complain about regarding the shape he's in, given his age and what he's experienced. His joints bother him on especially cold mornings, or if a storm is on the horizon; reading by candlelight is certainly more of a chore than it ever was during his younger years. But his shield arm is still strong, and he's more than capable of hacking his way through a training dummy without winding himself.

He's worked up a bit of a sweat by the time he notices Nathaniel in his peripheral vision, and pauses to watch Rendon Howe's boy with an inscrutable look on his face.

"Possibly," he answers the biting query without giving any indication that it's ruffled his feathers. He carries his shield over to the wall and sets it down, switches out his blade for a practice one, and comes back onto the training grounds. Lifting the weapon, he adopts a ready stance.

He'll trust that this fight is meant in good faith. He doesn't have any other options. "On your mark," he says.

[pinprick]

It has been quite some time since Nathaniel faced off against an opponent with a sword. The last time he fought at close quarters at all was...well, against a Vengeance demon who almost killed him, better not to bring that up.

But what shows as he circles Loghain is the posture, the footwork used by the chevaliers. Nathaniel does not use the shield because he has his own troubles with rheumatism, so he grips the sword with both hands. The moment he sees an opening, he goes for it, swinging toward Loghain's shins and hoping to throw off his balance. Men Loghain's age often have knee trouble, don't they? Of course it leaves Nathaniel's upper body exposed. He pivots to try to make any blow glancing at best.

[mactears]

Loghain marks the footwork easily, and feels an old distaste curl up the back of his neck, like a wolf getting its hackles up. He stifles the irrational anger; no sense in digging up that dead horse just to kick it again. He marks also how Nathaniel holds the sword with two hands rather than one; it lends more power to his downward swing as he charges forward, but makes his angle of approach obvious. Loghain parries the blow deftly, his blade deflecting Nathaniel's, then uses his own forward momentum to shove him in the direction that he pivots.

It's just enough to knock Nathaniel slightly off balance--and Loghain lunges forward at that moment to aim a stab at his left shoulder with the blunted tip of the practice sword.

[pinprick]

Nathaniel twists away barely too late. First (metaphorical) blood is drawn, though the fight not yet won, as the wound would be fairly shallow. With hands apart and no shield, Loghain's midsection is vulnerable. If Nathaniel had a bow instead of a sword, he would duck well within Loghain's reach, where a longsword is all but useless, and draw a dagger to cut his throat. But that's not this kind of fight. Ser Rodolphe always thwacked him with the sword-flat if he tried precision work or, Maker forbid, throwing, with a sword. A sword is not a dagger. Different tools, different purposes.

Instead, he aims for a stab toward Loghain's middle as he moves sharply toward the side of his opponent's empty hand.

Office

[wardeneructate]

Oghren, being Oghren, sure did burst right in without knocking and just helped himself to a seat before putting down a large bottle of something and two cups. That sure was a good way to announce himself as far as he was concerned. Though, he did pause at the look of the things on his face.

"Vision going, eh? Well this probably won't help with that but it sure should help you feel good for a bit." And that was that. He just poured them both a cup of that wine and tilted his back to drink it right down like it was water. Easy enough to do since he'd bothered to get some really good stuff for this.

"Take a break. Let's have us a drink."

[pinprick]

Nathaniel doesn't look thrilled that people are discovering the reading glasses, but it could be worse. He removes them and sets aside his work, making room for the booze.

"What's the occasion?"

[wardeneructate]

"Guess it depends on how sad you want to be. Could be for the Warden. Could just be because I felt like drinking with you because you work too hard."

He gave a shrug because Oghren didn't actually need a reason to get drunk or even to drink in general. Besides, it had been awhile so why not. It didn't hurt to do one for the Warden either. He'd been a piss at times but he'd done a lot for a number of them.

Office!

[doneisdone]

Teren does knock, but it's as she opens the door, because it's Howe, she didn't hear voices on her approach, and he's about as likely to be doing something interesting in here as she is to sing the Orlesian anthem.
...she knows better than to do this in the room he shares with Anders, at least. She's not an idiot.

"Letters," she boredly announces, coming to the desk with a stack that she's already gone through, marked, and answered. Noticing the spectacles as she turns back toward the door, Teren narrows her eyes for a brief moment, just long enough to register that something is different. However, she says nothing of them, as there'd be a definite irony in her remarking on signs that Nathaniel is aging.
"Nothing of any interest. Haven't heard a peep from that dodgy bunch in Ansburg, not that I expected it." Her words say 'I don't care', her tone says 'we should kill them before they kill us'.

[pinprick]

Nathaniel starts to shuffle through. There's something from Fergus, probably about Jonas, and as much as Nathaniel treasures the man's friendship, he is going to put that one on the bottom of the stack. He unfolds the first letter. "Last I heard from Ansburg was Humphreys' letter of 'oh, that's too bad' after I turned down the job. They're not going to send further word and risk exposing themselves, and asking for our help is a non-starter."

[doneisdone]

"So we'll go ahead and let them do whatever it is they're doing, off in secrecy," Teren says, exasperated, "that's certainly never gone badly." She folds her arms, having paused about halfway to the door. "You know that won't be the last we hear from them."

[pinprick]

"That's not what I said." Nathaniel sets down the letters, folds his hands, and turns his full attention to Teren. He's not exactly warm, but there is no irony in him.
"What's your suggestion? You're better at subterfuge than I am, you must have some ideas."

II

[unbrokenoath]

Did you say burst in without knocking, because guess who's bursting in without knocking.

(Hint: It's Kaisa.)

The door to Nathaniel's office is thrown open without so much as a by-your-leave, and Kaisa is talking before she even steps foot into the office proper. "Nathaniel! Hey! I wanted to talk to you, I was wondering what you--" It's only after she's started into whatever she was going to say that she halts, with the expression of one who has forgotten something, but can't quite remember what. A few seconds later, it's replaced by sheepishness, as she takes a few steps back, and belatedly knocks on the door.

"Sorry about that, I--Nice face, by the way. Good look on you." Just in case Nathaniel couldn't figure out what she was talking about, she gestures at her own eyes.

[pinprick]

Gee, thanks, Kaisa.

"What did you need?" he asks, pointedly diverting away from the spectacles.

[unbrokenoath]

"I want a pair of those." Kaisa replies cheerfully, plopping in another chair. "Maker's ass, look at you, Nathaniel. All official and important, with your own desk and glasses and shit. All that's missing is a receding hairline." Once she feels like she's given Nathaniel an appropriate amount of guff, she leans back, expression getting more serious.

"I wanted to ask your opinion, I guess. On all the...stuff going on recently. And see where you stood on it. With..." She pauses, tilting her head. "Loghain, I guess, but also. All the other Warden crap." She waves her hand, a shadow passing over her face.

"I dunno. It's probably stupid. We can talk about trophy husbands, instead. I'm thinking of getting one. Or maybe three. Did you know there's a rifter here that has four wives?"

flowers for petrana.

[ipseite]

He takes her quite off-guard, taking the flowers automatically, momentarily bemused - busy in the midst of a very quiet and very polite coup, she has been hard at work and hardly expecting such a pleasant interruption as she walks between meeting and meeting and office and all of this paper.

(It is rather a bold move, to try and persuade one's superiors that one ought to be in a position someone else already holds. The point remains that she would be better at it, and so.)

"Nate," she says, pleased as well as surprised, "these are lovely--"