Entry tags:
{ OPEN }
WHO: Christine and OPEN
WHAT: Returning from the Frostbacks with gifts.
WHEN: sometime after mid-Harvestmere
WHERE: Kirkwall (Inquisition holdings like the docks and stables)
NOTES: She put out a call for people to request items so now she's arriving with them.
WHAT: Returning from the Frostbacks with gifts.
WHEN: sometime after mid-Harvestmere
WHERE: Kirkwall (Inquisition holdings like the docks and stables)
NOTES: She put out a call for people to request items so now she's arriving with them.
{ stables }
Arriving back in Kirkwall doesn't feel like coming home, but it does feel like a relief because now Christine can settle back in after days of traveling by horse and ship. Her horse, Ambrose, is carefully brought off the ship, laden with furs and full saddlebags, but he's a large draft horse with a good temper, so he bears his burdens well. Making her way straight to the stables, Christine is helped by a stablehand and together they set the furs across the wall of Ambrose's stall and the saddlebags are set down in the aisle by a bench.
After feeding and watering her horse, Christine takes a seat on this bench and puts out a few calls to those who requested items from the Avvar hold she made contact with. Then she leans back against the stall and sighs, her journey at an end. She makes quite the picture, surrounded by animal furs and bags overflowing with mead and dried herbs.
{ lowtown }
There's tension in the city now that the Inquisition has elevated rifters to positions of power within its organization, and Christine knows it's ignorance that is leading people towards fear and lashing out. Despite being glad to be done traveling for a bit, her time with the Avvar makes her wish she could be back there, where they don't fear the Fade, or spirits, or strange magic. They take everything in stride and treat everyone equally as long as they're willing to pull their weight. But here in Kirkwall, she worries for the rifters.
She walks the streets on her way back to her house, looking out for any signs of trouble. Any raised voices have her on the lookout to see if it's a rifter getting harassed, or even a native member of the Inquisition. Perhaps they've outstayed their welcome here.
no subject
"Thought you might like it," he says, brushing a hand along her cheek. "It's very you.
no subject
"I hope you find the mead even half as good as my present." With that said, she leans in to brush a kiss against his cheek before moving towards the table to pour their drinks. "Which I will wear always. I will never take it off." That's a promise.
no subject
"Promise I'll find the mead perfectly acceptable, because it's mead, and because it's from you. Bet you taste better, though."
no subject
"Should we sit in front of the fire, or perhaps sit up in bed?" Because she wants to lean into him but they can't do that sitting at the dining table.
no subject
For a little while anyway.
no subject
Settling in with her pillow propped up against the headboard, Christine is ready for snuggling.
"I visited a new hold: Falcon-Reach. They were the friendliest bunch of Avvar I have ever met."
no subject
"I swear you say that about ever bunch of Avvar you meet, so now I'm just imagining that all of them are burly, super friendly lumberjacks."
no subject
She sips at her mead and it's like she's back there again, sitting by the fire as the skald sings and children run around with their simple wooden toys. There had been a chill in the air then, trying to penetrate her thick furs, but in the here and now she doesn't have to worry about being cold. She has Church.
"The Avvar treat their mages the same as everybody else. They are not set apart, or feared, or punished for what they are. They can have families and contribute to the hold." And she wants that life. Not until all this business with the war is done, but someday she wants that safety and protection, so unlike the "protection" mages received in the Circles.
"I was wondering..." she begins in a slightly nervous way, "what you would think of not only living in a hold with me, but more." She meets his eyes, sure she wants to discuss this and know his answer, but at the same time so amazed that they've reached the point where she's actually asking.
"What I mean is, a family. Settling down and starting a family? What do you think?" And then she rushes to add: "Not now, obviously, but someday?"
no subject
"A family? Us? A family with me? Kids? Like, get married, move into our own place--uh, a, uh, not here place, a not Kirkwall place, a place-place--have a bunch of little Delacroixs running around? With me? I...it, I--uhhhh... I hadn't...thought about that...before."
Sure, he's been calling her girlfriend for a while, but that still seems like a bigger step up from what either of them seemed ready for. "I--aren't you afraid? Of, like. Me. Disappearing. Some weird fade shit happening. Cuz being a Rifter and shit."
no subject
Her shoulders slump and she takes a long drink from her cup before answering.
"Yes, all the time. I have always feared you disappearing on me." And while Christine wouldn't want to put her children through losing their father like that, if they were among the Avvar, there would be a community raising them anyway. "I fear you falling in battle. I fear you becoming infected with something that I cannot cure. I fear you tripping and falling down a mountainside. I fear a bear mauling you." She stops and lets out a self-deprecating laugh. "You know how I worry. But I think of my father, and how he was taken away too soon. Should we stop living our lives because of what might happen? I did not want to have feelings for you because I knew you could disappear at any moment. But my heart would not listen to my head and I did end up having feelings for you. And had I not acted on them, I would be living a miserable life right now without you."
no subject
no subject
"I do want that. Someday. But for now, I want you."
no subject
He holds firm, arm around her. "Is this enough for you? For now. I mean."
no subject
At least they're able to plan, what with that wonderful plant witherstalk being available. Things would be quite different if such a thing didn't exist.
"You give yourself too little credit, you know." A hand goes up to her necklace, fingering the blue jewel lightly. "This is enough. This is perfect."
no subject
At her assertion that, once again, he is good and doesn't get enough credit and, yes, she genuinely loves him, he eases up and kisses her head, breathing deep her hair. "Eh, kind of a long way from perfect, but if you wanna go around telling people that's what I am, I'm not about to stop you."
no subject
"You are my kind of perfect, which would differ from others' definitions, I am sure." She draws in a deep breath. "It is good to be back. You must tell me everything that has been happening around here."