[ OPEN ] The sky is on fire, at least that is the word out in the world

[fleurdesel]

WHO: Adelaide LeBlanc and Various
WHAT: Adelaide returns to Skyhold
WHEN: mid Firstfall
WHERE: Courtyard, Library, Tavern, Garden, Battlements of Skyhold
NOTES: N/A, will update as needed

[ Courtyard A ]

The walk had been a long one. A long, boring, exhausting one- but one she'd made out to the mire and one she made back. Catching the odd ride from a cart on the way up the mountain had made stretches of it easier but her only concern now were a few requests and concerns as given to her by her students through the sending crystals. First thing was first: eat. Change. Rest. Then she could tend to the list of errands that brought her here.

Cloak dusted with snow and weight listing heavily against her staff with each step, she made a weary sight as she strode with unwavering focus to the Hold's doors. Students first, the rest would come later.


[ Gardens ]

Her concerns here were twofold- looking over the elfroot for improper trimming (recreational smoking, Andraste's ass, what were they thinking) and proper growth. Sleeves rolled up, hair bound back she knelt and checked every plant by hand to be absolutely certain, from root to shoot to leaf before moving on to the next. For elfroot, embrium, any plant with medicinal properties in the garden- and then a few that were not. The repetition and examination was soothing for her, a shred of familiarity that reminded her much of the time she'd done the same in the Spire's small garden.

Afterward- well. She began examining trees. For- meddling. Before seeking out a particular dalish mage. While it wasn't the only reason she returned, it had been a large part for her taking the walk back.


[ Library ]

Nothing on the plague as far as Bruce could tell while he was here- she hadn't passed him on the road but he'd indicated that he would be coming down to the mire to help when they last spoke. She did not doubt him his research- but the questioned and rather vexed swearing of the latest round of rifters had her seeking anything on the veil, the fade, and Tevinter magics. She could simply ask Dorian, she supposed, but his was more modern, less ancient. Mug of tea steaming at her elbow she picked through stack after stack of either horribly vague or horribly specific and useless information. Now and then she made a note or sat back, glaring at whatever she read, and muttered under her breath- "Bullshit."


[ Tavern ]

Evening found her at the tavern, eating with her students (glad for her return) and enjoying a solitary glass of wine. No books, no arguments over the state of the garden or the improper use of magic- just a meal. She might even be smiling ever so slightly while she listened to how they spent their days or the progress they've made in their studies in her absence. Now and then she wove her way to the bar proper to order another glass of wine for her other students or a mug of tea for herself, trying her best not to bump into anyone on the way there or back.


[ Battlements ]

Exhausted as the Mire had made her, long as her days have been, Adeliade did not find sleep easily. Between stress and frustration at not finding a cure or cause for the plague just yet or any manner of explanation for the rifters weighed on her more than it ought to. She never pretended to have the answers, never tried to know the whole of a problem. She was a healer and as much as it was in her nature to fix things- she wasn't certain if it was her own mind or Compassion that kept her from rest. Not wanting to bother her students (Roul minded the door in her absence) or anyone else for that matter, most nights found her on the battlements, bundled against the cold as she paced. Perhaps it would wear her out enough to sleep.


[ Courtyard B ]

Later in the day Adelaide can be seen coming up from a part of the hold, carting dust bins and cobweb covered brooms- more than a little dusty herself, and dumping the lot out, beating the broom against the stone side of the building, and taking a moment or two to enjoy the light and the fresh air before she wandered back down. Rinse and repeat, several times, until whatever room she was clearing out below was cleaned to her satisfaction. Needless to say it would take some time.

Comments

courtyard B

[serannas]

Now back at Skyhold, Ellana is once more struggling to find where she fits. She doesn't have a set role. She's not a scout, not a researcher; she's just sort of there, just like she was back in the clan. Oh, sure, she was hearthmistress, but that's an easy role that anyone can fill, and they have since she's been gone. Here in Skyhold, she can only do her best to be of use and know that she's contributing in some small way to the Inquisition as a whole.

When she spots Adelaide all dusty out in the sunshine, her curiosity is piqued, and she approaches her after she's done beating her broom, but before she heads back.

"Hello. Would you like some assistance in whatever you're cleaning?"

[fleurdesel]

Just a moment longer in the sun and the cool air, perhaps two. Or another few minutes. Toiling away in the Vault is worthwhile to see that they would have the space needed- speaking with Josephine had been to her benefit even if they haven't called a formal meeting as of yet- being prepared for one is vital if they are to move forward. All the same it is dark and dusty and wearying work, and works she'll be glad to be finished. She's leaning against the wall, face tipped up to the sun when someone calls to her-

"Beg pardon?" Help? From- the Dalish mage that isn't Pel. "Cleaning out the Vault- an extra pair of hands would be most appreciated."

[serannas]

"Oh? There must not be anything of value in the vault since it looks to be rather dusty," she jokes. "I would be happy to help. How are you? I haven't seen you since the celebration with the wine after the mages' meeting."

Battlements

[gatheringstorm]

[Adelaide isn't the only one up and about. Now that Korrin isn't surrounded by miles and miles of disease and corpse-infested swamp, she's no longer interested in sleeping away her off-time more than can be helped. And she's missed that mountain view, so she'll taking off for the battlements after a round at the tavern. It's when she's searching for the perfect spot to enjoy the view that the Vashoth mage spots someone who's obviously not on patrol. A smile forms as she raises her hand in greeting, heading over.]

Couldn't resist the view, either? Or are you just savoring returning to a place that's not completely horrible at every turn?

[fleurdesel]

A little of both, perhaps.

[ Adelaide pulls her cloak tighter about her shoulders, turning to greet Korrin with a smile. As awful as the Mire had been spending more time with the Vashoth mage had been a high point. Someone skilled with a unique perspective and an equal loathing for this bog bullshit? Always welcome. ]

Library

[keeperofmagi]

Nerva kept getting drawn to the library. Less because she wanted to be there, and more because out of anywhere in Skyhold it felt the most like a circle. So she kept finding herself drawn there, subconsciously.

Plus, well known and notorious mages kept hanging out there, so she made herself visible, and available.

And never took off her carefully polished templar armour.

Today, at least, she had a real reason to be there. She wanted to see if the Tranquil could be put to a use that wasn't quite so degrading for them. Even if they didn't feel it, she felt responsible, and she knew they would be more helpful for research than for the gardening chores they'd been given. As she didn't know exactly who to discuss it with, she wandered around the library with a vague, if certain, purpose, frowning as she observed each person in turn. She had just walked into one of the alcoves when she distinctly heard the word 'Bullshit' and turned, sharply, to her left.

"Excuse me?"

[fleurdesel]

"This footnote." Adelaide murmured, too embroiled in glaring at the text before her to look up at who she was speaking to. As she recounted the veritable maze of academic bullshit she had to wade through thus far she motioned to each book in turn. "'This phenomena is as described in Ephineas Aserathan's The Shape of the Fade'- which does not descirbe the phenomena at all, rather has another footnote that urges me to read Enchanter Mareno's Dissertation on the Fade as a Physical Manifestation, which alludes to something in The Maker's First Children by Enchanter Bader that has yet another footnote remarking on the detail I would very much like to know more of in depth and one would think that, well, these are primarily Orlesian and Tevinter Academics of course they cite rather than quote their sources which is it's own brand of bullshit but no. The end of the chain draws me to the very Fereldan Brother Genetivi who spins me back right to this text in the first place. And not a single one of these stuffy, inkstained bastards has actually written a word on what it is I wish to know."

She sagged back in her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Academia. Academia is bullshit and I will get nowhere at this rate."

[Gardens]

[eolasemah]

Reliably, Sina was exactly where she normally was. She wore a pair of leather gloves and several layers of scarves and jackets as she worked, having temporarily shed her more traditional Dalish garb in favor of being warm. At present she was on her knees, inspecting a methodically-planted row of elfroot.

[fleurdesel]

"Sina." Adelaide dipped her head in greeting, looking over the elfroot to the left of the Dalish mage. "They are looking well, don't you think?"

Library

[mythalenaste]

Pel is bent over her work now, a multitude of letters written in a careful hand to be delivered to Keepers across Thedas. Tedious, backbreaking work, all these hours spent hunched with a cramping hand, but she doesn't realize how long it has been, nor why Adelaide might be looking for her.

[fleurdesel]

Not in the tents, the stables, the tavern, the battlements- but in the library. Not precisely where it was Adeliade wished to have this conversation but it shall have to do. She slides into the chair across from Pel, hands crossed on the table before her. "Pel, I need to ask you something."

It is the kindest, most even voice she can manage despite her own exhaustion and stress. The voice of a weary mentor; it is what she knows best and falls back upon when all else might fail.

Library (for a change of pace!)

[easternseaqueen]

Isabela had been idly wandering the library, looking for something that looked interesting. Or at least something she could have fun with in terms of doodling in the margins. But the expletive caught her attention.

"I'd say that's apt on a number of levels, depending on what you're reading there," she remarked breezily.

[fleurdesel]

"Vague hints at something I need to find but precious little else." Adelaide slumped back in her chair, glowering at the books stacked around the table before her. "Everything references something else that references something that does not have what I am looking for."

[Battlements]

[the_effect_she_has]

Going to the battlements seems to be the way to cure insomnia -- or at least not allow it to disturb other people. Katniss herself is sitting on one of the ramparts, her bow by her side, treated leather and fur in her lap as she carefully sewed the two together. Forming a cloak - slightly on the crude side, but warm and sturdy.

She is singing softly when Adelaide approaches, and she glances up warily when she hears a step near her. Yet the blonde woman poses no immediate threat - she's been seen bustling around Skyhold so she apparently belongs here. Katniss nods, and continues to sing.

[fleurdesel]

She'd changed course when she'd heard the song, following it around just to be certain it's a person singing and not a Spirit. That happened sometimes, but it seems she's not quite as needed as previously thought-

even if the girl is distressingly close to the edge. Sitting on it, in fact.

Adealide hesitates for a moment, listening to the song without commentary. She does not seem likely to jump and Compassion does not prick at her for any manner of intervention. It's fortunate, Adelaide isn't certain she'd have the patience or grace for one tonight. "That's a beautiful song."

[amygdalae]

[The lack of constant human presence up in the battlements meant that it was a good spot for Bruce to hide himself away from everybody else when he needed to. As much as he did like what he was doing here, there was always ever so much human interaction he could handle. Being in the Mire didn't help much, and now that he was back Bruce was more than happy to stay in his corner and not talk to people when he had the chance.

A chance such as now, with how late it already is into the night. Most of Skyhold was already asleep but Bruce despite his own exhaustion was still up. With the time he had to himself now he had went to his usual spot up on the ramparts in order to brew the things he needed in the near future. If there was one thing that going to the Mire was good for, it was for all the herbs that were there. Some of them were of going to be great use.]

[fleurdesel]

Bruce?

[ That particular hunched figure looks familiar. The set of his shoulders, the way he seemed to curl in on himself even when he was alone. Adelaide was bundled tight in her cloak against the night's chill, hair braided long and loose over her shoulder. It's likely the least put together he's seen her. ]

Can't sleep either?

[wontforgetyou]

[When it comes to studying the trees, Adelaide may find that she's not alone. Over in one corner of the garden is a faint green glow, partially obscured by leaves and branches - and quite a bit by the way Jamie is standing as well, hands on his hips as he stares up at one of the branches. There's a faint, thoughtful frown on his face as well, but as he shakes his head and turns to walk away, he winds up spotting Adelaide. That, apparently, is all it takes to get the frown to fade away, replaced by a rather more pleasant-looking smile.]

Adelaide! Hey, what are you doing out here?

[fleurdesel]

[ It takes all of a moment for the voice and the name it belongs to, but as soon as she turns to face him it clicks into place. ]

Jamie?

[ Smile, yes. She manages one, thin and faint but it's present. ]

Checking the elfroot to be certain no one is pruning it improperly. What brings you here?

library.

[liberalum]

Finding Dorian is not typically a difficult task, his patterns falling into habit, his roots finding depth. When not training amongst the mages in an attempt to encourage battle readiness, he can be found in the library, in the midst of the nook he has set out for himself. There's a high backed chair near the window that boasts the best light, stacks of books he's currently working on, and a small table on which may rest, at any given time, a glass of wine, a jug of water, or a light meal.

Right now, it has writing tools, and he balances on his knees a writing board as he pens a letter. Whether Adelaide comes to the library now for her own purposes or to seek him is neither here nor there; he tends to keep track of the comings and goings of those that drift by, and is distractable enough from his task for her to snag his attention.

"Lady LeBlanc," he greets. "How good it is to see you in my neck of the woods."

Always a touch mischievous, in that he is perfectly aware how exasperating she might find him conceptually, at all times.

library.

[fleurdesel]

"Dorian." It's weary. Civil, but weary- less so of him and the exasperation he brings and more the mire, the council, and the morning she had spend clearing a space for said council. Which she is a member of, through no true desire of her own and a fair deal of subtle and none too subtle nudging from this man in particular.

Honestly she wishes she had it in her to be more irritated.

As it is she drags a stool, an ottoman- something nearby so that she might sit as well for a short while in his company. Out of everyone in Skyhold she could keep worse, she supposes. "You shall be seeing more of me in the future, I should think. There is a great deal of reading to be done to learn 'how to win approval and influence mages'."

Courtyard A

[madame_de_fer]

While the mice have been away, the Iron Lady has made good use of her own time catching up on the latest news and gossip, both within Skyhold and without. It would be foolish of her not to stay apprised of as much information as she possibly could. Having settled back in herself, she's been keenly watching the activities of the fortress from her balcony. On spotting Adelaide's return, Vivienne actually deserts her watchful post to personally greet the woman. While she might have issues with people who abandoned their Circles, she actually has a great respect for someone who has taken on the instruction of younger, inexperienced mages.

"My dear, you must be famished. Why don't you come in and refresh yourself. I'll have some tea made." The snow and obvious weariness is too obvious to ignore, and it would be cruel to do so. For whatever else Vivienne is a bitch about, she absolutely cares about the well-being of mages. Even the rebels.

[fleurdesel]

At this point in the walk Adelaide is simply attempting to keep moving, one foot before the other in the direction of the nearest fire. That is how she made it up the mountain, that is how she found Skyhold in the first place, and that is how she means to find her bed. Simply the chance to sit would be wonderful- as such it takes her a moment to realize that it is she that is being spoken to when Vivienne sweeps up alongside. It is sweeping. Graceful sweeping, compassionate sweeping, and she manages a thin smile of gratitude in turn. "Merci, Madame."

For someone this well dressed, this poised, and with a Marcher's accent? It can only be the Madame de Fer. When her wits are more securely about her person Adelaide will have it in her to be intimidated.

[laurenande]

The Fallow Mire had been unpleasant in ways that Galadriel would have been hard-pressed to explain. It was not the darkest place she had ever walked, nor was it so permeated by death that it clawed at her, but it was noteworthy and inexplicably haunting. Some sense of it lingered. It was a bone-deep disquiet that the Mire left in its wake and she feared it had woven itself into the very fabric of her dreams. She had only had a few, all in that place, and she did not relish making the attempt again.

Fortunately, if she were careful, she could avoid such unpleasantness for some time.

The stars were a welcome change from the cloudy sky of the Mire; the cold wind was crisp and carried no pestilence. She relished both as she strayed up the steps to the battlements. She didn't often stand on the walls, but they were not so popular that she expected to find company. That it was familiar and pleasant company she stumbled across was all the more surprising.

Adelaide wasn't enjoying the stars, not in the way that Galadriel was wont. She was pacing, her cloak wrapped tightly around her shoulders, and the elf watched as she turned on her heel, distracted by some distant, troubling thoughts, and came back toward her.

"How surprising that I should find you here, my friend," Galadriel said in a soft, conversational tone as she came up the last of the steps. "Though if you desire solitude, I will leave you to your pondering."

[fleurdesel]

There weren't any torches on this stretch of the battlements. It was dark and solitary and soothing- a place for Adelaide to stride from one end to the other- coming just barely within the light offered by torches set at either end before turning on her heel and diving back into the darkness. It was...relaxing in it's own way, gave her a place to wind down her thoughts. Standing and staring out into the distance stopped working some time ago.

As there were no torches, there were no lights- the dim glow that came not from the warmth of fire but the cool brush of Galadriel's grace gave her pause.

It must seem terribly childish, pacing in the middle of the night for want of sleep. A great deal about Galadriel left Adelaide feeling terribly young.

For the moment? She did not care.

"No, no. Solitude is not doing me much good at the moment." She came to an abrupt stop, cloak and skirts swirled about her feet.