( closed ) your heart's a mess

[dashing]

WHO: Herian Amsel & Cosima Niehaus.
WHAT: Herian heroically comes to Cosima's defence, Cosima is not thrilled.
WHEN: early this month, i thiiiink
WHERE: a tavern in Kirkwall
NOTES: some brief(ish) brawly violence, nothing else as yet, I'll update as necessary.

( Herian is not beside herself with delight concerning the curfew imposed on rifters, or the tensions members of the Inquisition encounter when they walk the streets of Kirkwall. It is reminiscent of too many terrible things, but it seemed so many of them had endured so much that was terrible that it all began to run together; what might have once been distinct ribbons of colour, each worthy of attention and note and detail now just becoming a murky blur of so many ink brushes dipped into water.

She is weary, but so many of them are. It is no excuse not to hold herself to the highest standard, and tha t is what she reminds herself constantly, including the moment she enters the tavern to meet Cosima.

And here's the scene: Cosima, attempting diplomacy, in the presence of three imposing figures whose manners would appear rather less than friendly. Herian is in the habit of watchfulness, and observes as she draws closer, listening. They have realised that Cosima is a rifter, it seems, and were intent on voicing their displeasure with this fact - at rifters, at the Inquisition, at demons, at mages. All manner of ire, and Herian arrives just as one of the men lurches closer, neatly inserting herself between Cosima and the brigands menacing her, as one leans down to his boot - dagger. )

The Inquisition is tasked with protecting Thedas from the perils it now faces, and we both of us are sworn to their service. Threatening a member of the Inquisition and one who works to aid Kirkwall, the Free Marches and the countries beyond is unwise indeed, ser. Perhaps you'd sooner reconsider.

( Her voice is cool, not quite reaching into sharpness. There is a steadyness to it that is in some ways perhaps more alarming than a show of temper.

Suffice to say they do not reconsider. The first lunges forward, a knife in hand, and Herian moves with his momentum, twisting him off course and slamming his wrist down onto the wooden bartop, trapping it there with her hand before driving her opposite elbow into his face, striking a pressure point just below his nose. He buckles, from pain rather than unconsciousness. There are still his two friends to consider—

What a good start to the evening. )

Comments

[dashing]

What is decided as the best way for mages to be governed will effect more than mages. People benefit from us, they can be harmed by us. We are but one element of Thedas, and we span different races and countries. ( She leans against the table for a moment, her voice growing more quiet. )
I worry that agreements, if we are left to them, will be too self-serving and be too hard to ever agree upon, when an Orlesian noble-born human and a Fereldan elf from am alienage are counted as the same, simply due to magic. It assumes a degree of loyalty and commitment, and it crafts the likelihood that the welfare of mages will be the sole priority, when there are so many more who could be effected by the decisions of such a governance. Who amongst mages could be trusted?

( Herian resists the urge to sigh, and instead sips her wine. ) Every living person is worthy of peace and safety. ( Even the Dalish, though preferably that peace and safety would keep them far, far away from her. ) Mages are not the only ones in danger of being made victims, and we certainly are not above tyranny and murder.

( Tevinter is the main example, of course, though there are others. )

[youwonscience]

I mean, anyone with power making decisions affects other people. You didn't ask to be born with magic; nobles didn't ask to be born with a shit-ton of money, for the most part. Nobles may not turn into literal abominations, sure, but they definitely run the risk of turning into monsters.

[She exhales. She wishes she had some weed.]

Your points are fair, I'm not disagreeing. I'm just saying that it's a familiar problem, even though my world doesn't have mages. That I know of. I just think it's worth aiming for a balance between 'not letting you set up tyranny' and 'giving you a real say in how your lives go,' you know?

If there are enough rifters one day, we're gonna have to have some kind of similar talk. It's not like, um, Thranduil and I have more in common than the Orlesian noble and the Fereldan elf, you know.

[dashing]

( She makes, despite herself, a very slight face at the thought of comparing Thranduil and Cosima - one who is respectable but also wrong, and the other who is objectively the best.

Herian makes a quiet sound of agreement and understanding and tiredness (and existential angst, let’s be real), before slowly just leaning forward to rest her forehead on Cosima’s shoulder. It’s not very seemly, and it’s far more than she should allow herself, but she just needs a moment.

So much of the world feels completely beyond her. )

I just want to make the world better than what it was, and what has become of it.

( She feels kind of childish and defeated, truthfully, with this absurd behaviour of hers - even though she is very calm and very controlled, still, by the standards of normal people. )

[youwonscience]

I think it speaks well of you that it's so much on your mind, [Cosima says, frankly. It's been a long night, and she's wrung out, and disinclined to back down from her initial reason for disliking how Herian handled the situation... but none of that changes how she feels about Herian more generally, and part of her is calm enough to hope Herian knows that.

After a moment, with a shaky laugh:]

Shit, if we were where I come from, this is the point I'd suggest we go home with a bottle of wine, take the rest of the night off, and watch a stupid movie - um. A recorded story, like a play.

[She's suddenly, sharply homesick.]

[dashing]

I've never seen a play, ( she replies, slightly apologetic, before realising her comment was probably incredibly unhelpful. ) I'm familiar with the concept.

( She eases back a little, and gently takes both of Cosima's hands in her own. )

We could go home with a bottle of wine. I cannot promise a play or movie, but... I could read to you?

( Maybe that's a really stupid idea. Is it a stupid idea? She looks a little awkward, for a moment. )

[youwonscience]

[Cosima smiles a little, tired but genuine.]

I'd like that. I haven't read much fiction in Thedas, so pretty much anything you pick will be new to me.

[None of the things they've talked about are going away but... they're not going away, which means they can put them aside for the rest of the evening. Revisit another time, perhaps, but for now they've probably both had enough.]

[dashing]

Oh? Perhaps we must have a habit of it, then. Introduce you to the literary wonders of our world.

( A gentle smile, relieved to see Cosima's own, and she presses a light kiss to Cosima's knuckles before standing, grabbing their bottle of wine. It isn't full, and she considers it for a moment. )

I can acquire us another, and then we can depart? ( Unless Cosima's good with most of a bottle of wine, that is. )

[youwonscience]

Please.

[It's been a long evening, and they've lingered sufficiently for Cosima not to feel like they're turning tail and running.

Plus more wine.]

Let's go home.

[Whether or not either of them considers it home is a discussion for another day, or possibly never; here it's shorthand for 'the place we don't have to be in public anymore.']

[dashing]

( She takes only a moment to get the wine, pay more coin, and then they are free to leave. The night air is cool, but at least Herian's skin always runs warm, and she tries not to let worry cause hesitation as she holds the door open for Cosima and offers her arm.

It's fine. A slightly turbulent evening, but now they can relax, and hide away from the world for a while. )