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

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

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.

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Nerva ignored what she could only assume was a joke, as she had assumed that the authors were dead, because she had a general assumption that most knowledge was old, and therefore everyone was likely to be long deceased. It really didn't matter, in the end - it had nothing to do with her.

So instead she focused on the last thought, which caused her to nod in agreement.

"I think in general they would be better suited to it. And as they will not protest, so I must protest on their behalf. If you would allow them to aid in your study, you would have my deepest thanks."

A templar that cared for the Tranquil- why? For the sake of appearances? Out of obligation? An oath? Were they favored toys? Much as she had attempted to give the templars she had met in the Inquisition the benefit of the doubt more and more she recalled the few details that came to light in her last week in the Spire- before the blood.

Both names were male. They couldn't exactly say no. It could be terribly lonely traveling along the road-

No. She would give no weight to this line of thought.

"They are more than welcome to assist. The Garden is, by and large, tended to in patches by everyone in Skyhold that has need of the herbs that grow there. With Winter on the way there is no reason to station them where they can become ill so easily."

"Thank you," She said, raising her fist to her heart and giving the woman a stiff bow. It was only then that she realised that she herself had been incredibly rude - begging for favours before she had even given a name.

"I am Nerva Lecuyer," She offered. No Ser. She had been little more than a food soldier, for the order, and was hardly any high rank now. "If I can do anything to repay you, you need only ask."

Rudeness for rudeness, Adelaide thought nothing of it, even though she probably ought to do so. He mother would be terribly ashamed of her and in truth? She did not care much in the slightest. "Adelaide LeBlanc."

Former Enchanter to the White Spire, Aequitarian seat of the Inquisitions council of Mages, exhausted instructor to refugee students. "Might I offer the same in return."

The most telling thing was that Nerva suddenly went very still. She wasn't a squirmer, by any means; she had long ago learned to stand at attention for extended periods. But there was a difference to the natural sort of position that she had taken a moment ago, to the way that ever muscle in her body stilled now.

The way she seemed to focus just behind Adelaide's face rather than on it.

"Adelaide LeBlanc," She repeated, both tone and expression neutral.

After all, refraining from showing a beast your emotions was one of the primary methods of actually dealing with it. For that was what she hadn't even realised she'd been facing. A beast, without even a leash.

"Of the Mage Council, if I recall correctly. Forgive me, I have yet to fully come to recognize the structure of the Inquisition."

Recognize had exactly the number of meanings that she needed it to have.

Oh, Maker, She knew having her name widly known for whatever reason in conjunction with the council would come back to bite her. Be a sensible voice, Dorian said, it'll do some good, he said. She meant to have words with him whenever they next meet. Strong, sensible words.

It took a moment to reach back into the dregs of her memory, to her lessons in being a proper lady of the court as offered by her mother and her siblings and she was rusty. Terribly rusty, but she could adjust her posture accordingly, and smooth her face into a civil enough mask as needed. Currently? It was very much needed.

"The Spirit Healer of the Mage Council, yes." May as well get all of the usual suspicious details out into the air before the woman locked up so much she froze in place for the next week. Being seen as a thing rather than a person- she'd thought to not have to deal with such treatment in the Inquisition. More the fool her.

"The templars mind their own, we mind our own, and we all defer to the Inquisitions leaders, beholden not to one another." How was that for structure? "Consider yourself duly informed."

"I meant merely that I did not yet recognize the leaders of the new Magi Council," She said, though the flat way she said it probably indicated otherwise. She had twitched, after 'duly informed', "And thus was late in my recognition."

The fact that she'd asked a favour from her - her stomach turned, but she kept her expression flat. "I do not retract my request, and I will still endeavour to repay you for your kindness."

It was incredibly formal - her Orlesian accent even crisper than it had been. She was more aware of it.

"Of course." To this, Adelaide deigned to smile. It was a thin, sharp thing, unyeildingly pleasant. Perfectly civil. There was not a stitch nor hair on her that warranted such hostility, nor was there any of the same in this Templar to earn it save for her behaviour.

"Whyever would you retract it?" They were theirs first. One of them before, whatever the cause, they were made to be Tranquil. Perhaps they'd chosen it, that was not hers to ask. But to ensure they were not taken advantage of? That fell under the jurisdiction of the Mage Council, she ought to think. "I am a woman of my word. The will be brought in. Maker knows there is more than enough research that needs to be done and that it is a good deal warmer here than it is in the garden."

"Had I known you had so many... duties, I would not have presumed to make any request of your time," Nerva replied, but her voice was flat, and her eyes just a hair's breadth too narrow.

"But I thank you, for your willingness, despite that." The words 'thank you' sounded like they were dragged over gravel in order for them to actually be spoken, but spoken they were. "If you will excuse me, I will not disturb you further."

"De rien, Nerva." No honorifics, no ranks, for they were introduced without them and she wasn't about to begin using or demanding them. If only to be a little petty. "It is no trouble at all. The Tranquil are as much our responsibility as any other mage."

Perhaps she was not as rusty as she thought, to have kept her voice so even, her smile on this edge of sweetly civil. Mother would be proud. "I do not think it is I that is disturbed, but I shall not keep you."

Nerva wasn't bothered by the lack of honorifics - after all, she could hardly claim them, with the state of the Order. But the responsibility comment made her twitch.

She had never managed to play the Game. She loved everything about Orlais, mostly because she never could really attain it. Mastery of the Game was one of those things that she couldn't hope for. She respected it, though. Yes, she respected it deeply. But from Adelaide? It was mockery, pure and simple. Nerva's Orlesian accent seemed to grow crisper.

"Then I trust you will be far more responsible than the mages who utterly abandoned them, as they did most of their brethren," She said, bluntly, no pretend sweetness. "But if you are not - I will continue to protect them, regardless of what I see as my current responsibility."

She could just turn around and leave, and for a second it looked like she might just do that. But this was a point she had been angry about, for months, and now said out loud she could neither take it back or pretend that it was merely something said to play the game. She meant it, body and soul.

Edited (wow typos sob) 2015-12-02 19:51 (UTC)

Near as she could recall in the chaos of fleeing the spire- the Tranquil either were hidden away or killed by- well.

One party or another. The templars certainly did not seem to care which was which in all the blood and the chaos. Both parties failed them spectacularly in ways that she would hope to never see again- ways she would work to prevent in the future. Adelaide needed no templar to remind her of the wrongs done to them by mages and she needed it less from one in a position to pile on even worse abuse.

Brows lifting, smile softening over grit teeth, she reigned in her crackle of anger as best she could, even if she cannot entirely prevent the initial frosting of her fingertips.

"We must all strive to do better than the failings of our fellows." No one here was innocent. To pretend otherwise was a disservice. "That is what the Inquisition is intended to be. Something better for those that mean to do better."

"And the failings of ourselves." No one here was innocent. Certainly, neither of the two of them.

But she wasn't going to let that keep her from claiming the moral highground, all the same. She wouldn't be here, if she didn't disagree with the majority of the Order. She had come at significant personal risk.

It was easy to tell herself that wasn't true, for Adelaide. For the other mages. The Inquisition offered them freedom. Protection. What was left of the rebel mages were considered renegades. What was left of the Order... was something much worse. And she would not argue for their innocence, or her own. Only her repentance.

But that repentance was not to Adelaide, or to any mage now living. It was only to the dead, and only the dead would know.

Adelaide's faltering smile, her gritted teeth, was met only by blunt stone, the flicker of rage somewhere deep in her gaze but otherwise not in her expression.

"I will take comfort that the Council similarly sees it as such."

"It is not my place to comment on your failings, for I do not know of them." Nor is it Nerva's to comment on Adelaide's. A bit of ice had crept into her tone and that she noted, that she took a slow breath to thaw. Or at the very least temper into something not quite so smiling and hostile. Old, old, old lessons: Chin up, shoulders back, look them in the eye and no higher, be firm but pleasant, yield no ground and give no ammunition.

The last was difficult when everything one did was scrutinized as a sign of being subhuman. Of being a thing, a potential host for demonic possession. No amount of smiling or gracious gestures would change that. Not having to worry about coming away from this liked or even respected did give less pressure, but little satisfaction.

Some of the tension smoothed out of her face, the frost on her fingertips withdrawing to a mere chill. She could be as angry as she liked. As frustrated as she wanted- as long as none of it showed.

It would take a great deal more practice as of yet.

"Is there anything else you require?"

The dismissal was obvious, but she was not the kind of person to bristle and resist simply at being dismissed. She had said her piece. She did not need to repeat it.

"No."

The reply was a firm word, nothing more. She was not pleased by the way that Adelaide's calm smile had cracked, and was not pleased when it went up. In truth, it meant little either way.

She could pretend all she liked - it would never change what she was. (Or what she so easily could be.)

She raised her clenched fist to her chest and gave a short, tight bow. From someone else, it could have been mockery. From Nerva, it was her own stubborn foot attempting to cling to what she saw as the high ground. Honour, even for the dishonourable.

It was for the Order that she gave the salute, rather than for Adelaide.

"Excuse me."

She straightened, and with a withering look, she turned, and took her leave.

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

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