OPEN

[madame_de_fer]

WHO: Vivienne and YOU
WHAT: Madame de Fer is returned to the Inquisition and open to deliver opinions. About everything.
WHEN: End of Firstfall through the beginning of Haring. about a week
WHERE: Around Skyhold
NOTES: Vivienne is her own warning.

It's been a few weeks since Vivienne was last present with the main body of the Inquisition. There had been a matter of great importance to attend to in Val Royeaux. Alas, much as she'd quite prefer to stay by Bastien's side, especially now, she knows far too well that this is the place she needs to be. The Inquisition has the potential to shake Thedas to its very foundations and she is determined to be present when that dust settles. The loss of the Herald is a grave blow to the fledgling organization, but that merely spurs her on all the more determined to see this through to the bitter end. There will be time enough later for personal grief.

It doesn't take her long at all to lay claim to the balcony overlooking the main hall of the fortress. In short order, she's got herself a quaint sitting room set up with the best views available. There's quite a pile of books she's brought with her as well. Anyone who's curious or just observant will notice that when she's by herself, she seems quite engrossed in some manner of research, reading intently or taking notes. Those with the knowledge or true skills of perception will note that the books seem an esoteric collection of magical theory and alchemical discourses. Even while busy with this pet project of hers, she remains poised like a queen seated in state to permit a miniature court to be held with herself presiding. Naturally.

She does have other business to attend to. The leadership of the Inquisition must be made to see the importance of how the group presents itself. Certainly the quartermaster is doing his best to see everyone outfitted, but there's still new recruits who are little better than scruffy ragamuffins milling about. There is a need for funds to keep everyone fed and armed, and for that they must at least look like a respectable group, not like a gang of alienage starvlings looking for a handout. Yes, if one espies the Iron Lady marching across the fortress with a determined glint in her eye, it's to seek out those who matter and are in a position to correct this terrible atrocity of poor style.

Not everything is all lazy reading and fashion organization. Despite choosing fine silks with gems as her attire (finished off with creative hats) at all times, Vivienne doesn't neglect the very necessary attention needed to practice her Knight-Enchanter skills. There's no mistaking her for a mage, as she lobs ice at her chosen training dummy out in the courtyard. The surprising behavior is her sudden calling up a sword out of thin air, taking a melee-range method of attack mingled in with the magic. And yet somehow, despite this very real exertion, Vivienne somehow manages not to break a sweat. Maybe that's the chill of being high in the mountains, however.

Comments

[mythalenaste]

Pel watches Vivienne's practice of her knight-enchanter skills, so riveted she has forgotten to keep spinning. Eventually she sets the spindle aside and simply observes. She is simply dressed in wool tunic and a plaidweave neck handkerchief, hair braided back to bare vallaslin and pointed ears, leaving no question about why she is dressed so unfashionably.

[madame_de_fer]

Vivienne is intent on her practice. She takes the honing of her skills as seriously as she does everything else in her life. But part of those skills includes being aware of her surroundings and she knows she's being watched. A glance to see who is present was all she planned to spare but what she sees makes her pull up short.

There is a Dalish wearing plaidweave. Dalish wearing plaidweave.

Maker help her, why would anyone inflict that on another person. It's too painful to look at. Vivienne quietly pinches the bridge of her nose and closes her eyes, as if something were paining her. (And it is. Oh how it's bothering her.) She draws a deep breath and then steels herself to face down that atrocity until she can remedy it.

"My dear, are you chilled? I do believe I've a much warmer scarf inside you could use."

[mythalenaste]

If it weren't for Vivienne's body language, Pel would assume she is simply kind. As it is, she's a bit wary.

"I'm warm enough."

the balcony.

[liberalum]

The next time Vivienne returns to her favoured perch, something's slithered in to greet her.

Respectful enough not to lounge about where he generally spies her, but not so much that Dorian hasn't already put his hands on her books, she may find him in one of the high backed chairs she's secured for her space -- his back wedge against an arm, and his legs thrown over the other. Book balanced on his knees, he doesn't look up from reading at the sound of approach, immediately, but he doesn't ignore her either.

"So good to have you back with us, Vivienne," he says, his voice as rich and warm and vaguely, almost purposelessly sarcastic as ever. "They've let in all sorts of riff-raff since you departed."

[madame_de_fer]

If Vivienne is irritated that Dorian seems to have made himself at home and with her things (and oh she is), she doesn't betray it with so much as a flick of her eyes or even a hint of a tone. After all, there are bigger battles to fight at the moment and yes the Tevinter managed to nail precisely what it is.

"Indeed. A more rag-tag bunch I've never seen." She's absolutely not pleased with the low quality riff-raff milling about. And that's without addressing other problems like Dalish wearing plaidweave around Skyhold. "The question is: what do we plan to do about them, darling?"

Because if Dorian's going to make himself at home, he is also going to make himself her assistant to clean them up. He's at least got a decent head for fashion and doesn't need to have it spelled out how important appearances actually are.

[liberalum]

[ ooc ; goddamn, this fell out of my tagging system, i'm sorry! let me know if you'd prefer to do something more recent, but happy to continue. ]

"Banish them all," Dorian proposes, as he claps the book shut. He reaches to place it where he found it, which is basically whatever was in arms reach when he first plonked himself down on her lovely furniture. "To return only under pain of death, or shoes. Perhaps some table manners. No, strike that last one, we couldn't turn away Bull and his Chargers."

He's not sure if he likes Vivienne, exactly. But he's also not sure if he has to. Enjoying someone is very different from liking, and that is so often much more his speed. "An entire gaggle of Dalish arrived. A flock. A herd? I'm not sure what the term of venery is for an elf."

[motherfucking_ghost]

"Holy shit." Church is still trying to get used to...literally everything, from the weather to the lack of modern plumbing to the food to the clothes to the lack of guns to the very alive, very fleshy body he's been put in. So a lot of this around this Skyhold place still completely surprises, startles, and confuses him.

Look, not to say that Skyhold's a dump, cuz...well, he guesses that for medieval high fantasy tabletop bullshit, it's probably really nice. But nobody, nobody is dressed the way this badass motherfucker is. And it even takes him a while to notice that she is, in fact, a badass motherfucker. She's sparkling like she's a fucking princess, and she's pulling swords out of thin air.

Shit, maybe he should totally learn more about this magic crap, despite LeBlanc's warnings. He wants to pull a rifle out of nowhere and blow people away. Damn. He should (SHOULD) know better than to bother someone when they're training, because god knows he could never get his own team to train worth a damn. Or...get himself to train worth a damn. But, he's Church, he's new, he's a Rifter, and he's got a big mouth.

So. "If that's what you wear into a fight, I'm almost afraid to ask what you'd wear to a fancy dinner. It's not exactly, uh, armor."

[madame_de_fer]

Part of the art of using the skills of a Knight-Enchanter involves a degree of situational awareness. One cannot simply throw herself into melee range without being keenly aware of what is going on about her. Thus, Vivienne knows she is being watched and not terribly fussed about being so. Training is as much for informing others what she is capable of as it is for her own personal benefit.

Once the Rifter speaks up though, she pauses and actually smiles, warmly even! A light laugh crosses her lips, amused but not unkind. "Of course it's armor, my dear. Sometimes it's the effect one causes that is its own protection. Though in Orlais, sometimes it would be more prudent to wear heavy plate to a fancy dinner than velvets and silks."

[motherfucking_ghost]

"I mean, uhhh..." Yeah, it's sure having an effect on someone. It's partly the surprise, because, wow, talk about a difference between her and...the rest of this Inquisition. And party wow. "I uh. I can see how going into battle in something like that might protect you. You're gonna razzle dazzle 'em to death."

He's starting to get the idea that his Orlais Orlesian place is basically France. Old timey France. "That tough to impress a crowd, huh? I get the feeling you don't have it so tough here. I'd ask if it's got any protection other than surprise, but I guess if someone hesitates half a second, that's all the time you need. What with the..." Gesture. To her. At the air. "Pulling shit out of the air trick."

[amygdalae]

The trip out to the Mire had been well and good and reasonably productive, and as much as Bruce wanted to stick around there a little more his duties at Skyhold and its many refugees were always far more important. Now that the Inquisition was turning its attention to another place, Bruce returned to the fortress with most of the others that had still been in the Mire.

Despite the tiredness he did feel from the long travel back, Bruce didn't let that stop him. The very next day he was up bright and early, going through his usual rounds and catching up with the patients he had been attending to.

After one round of that Bruce started to make his way back to his tent in order to take his usual break, but as he passed by the training area he soon noticed a familiar figure. Madame de Fer. The Iron Lady.

She must have returned while he was away.

From where he was Bruce watched as she wielded as spectral sword with fine precision, the mage in him appreciating finely honed magic for what it was. While Bruce wasn't going to be casting any magic himself anytime soon (keeping his status as one was the most important thing right now for him, besides the other obvious stuff), he could appreciate it still when he could see it.

[madame_de_fer]

For a short while, Vivienne permits Bruce the pleasure of observing uninterrupted. Training in the open is equal parts of creating an intentional impression for members of the Inquisition (and any potential allies present at the moment), and honing her skills for her own personal edification. Practical in every sense of the word. Once she's satisfied with her performance, she turns towards him with a genuine smile.

"Welcome back, darling. I do hope your outing was productive?" Squishing through a mire wasn't high on her list of business to assist with. Maker bless those who were willing, but she's glad to have sidestepped that mess.

[amygdalae]

Vivienne, for all of his own opinions of her and what she was to other people, was undeniably a great mage. Every movement she did and the magic she wielded was always an impressive sight.

He watched until she was done, and when she turned to greet him Bruce returned her smile with his own, inclining his head politely as he replied. "It was quite productive. I managed to find a fair amount of herbs that would help with my work." He also probably should look into trying to grow some of them in Skyhold, if it was possible. "What about you, Madam? I hope your return trip was without trouble."

[gatheringstorm]

They may have shared a tent before, but Korrin has so little in common with the First Enchanter that she hasn't bothered to seek out her company since. Politics, fashion, pro-Circle views, all of it's nothing she wants in her life. So it's just as well that they hadn't crossed paths until now.

But seeing Vivienne training effectively gets her attention. It's not the ice spells that keep it, but that spirit blade which causes her to make a detour from her route, instead pausing to openly watch the knight-enchanter at work. If Vivienne wants attention, she effectively has it.

[madame_de_fer]

Naturally Vivienne wants attention. She also wants to practice her skills so they remain in excellent form in the field. However, there is no sense in denying that her open training session provides an opportunity to continue shaping how she is perceived. If some of the Inquisition's membership finds it either impressive or intimidating, so much the better. There is practiced intention in her movements. She continues for some time, permitting the Qunari mage ample opportunity to observe. There are benefits to being Circle trained, and the art of being a Knight-Enchanter is one of them.

Once she's quite satisfied with her exertions, she turns to Korrin. They do not agree in philosophy whatsoever, but the woman is still a mage, and for that reason alone, Vivienne considers herself at least partly responsible to see to her care and well-being. "My dear, how are you doing? You've been away I believe?" Yes, she's been keeping tabs on people.

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin's almost sorry for Knight-Enchanter training time to end, at least for the time being. Perhaps she'll have to catch more of it later on, though. It's worth giving Vivienne that satisfaction if she can satisfy her own curiosity about other forms of magic.

Keeping tabs, well, that's to be expected even as Korrin chafes at it. But her attention diverts to the subject at hand, and she wrinkles her nose. "Oh, yes. I've had all sorts of fun at the Fallow Mire. Undead and plague everywhere, not to mention neverending swamp, what more could I ask for? You're fortunate to have missed out, practically no one has any fond memories of the place."

the balcony

[eolasemah]

A small tap came at the opening to the Enchanter's balcony parlor, heralding a diminutive elf wearing a shawl and carrying a basket. Trembling like a nervous fawn, Sina glanced over the imposing woman and gestured to the basket with her other hand.
"Herbs, for your research," she said faintly. Someone had asked that they be delivered upstairs, whether it was Vivienne herself or just a helpful soul who'd decided she needed a distraction.

[madame_de_fer]

For the most part, Vivienne has not the least bit of problem as coming across as intimidating. Putting a little fear into people is a good thing, as it helps her stay in control of her life. However, she's quite certain she's seen nugs with more courage than this timid little elf and there's a small part of Madame de Fer which feels perhaps the slightest bit guilty for being so frightening. A very small part.

The contribution of herbs for her alchemy research though, that is greatly appreciated. Vivienne beckons the girl closer, with a faint smile. "Thank you, darling, I appreciate you bringing them. Let's see what you've brought."

She holds out a hand to accept the basket. Vivienne means to inspect the contents for quality and quantities, but that is a practical concern to know what she has to work with.

courtyard!

[fayth]

It was a good feeling, that since some of the other off-worlders had proven their worth in battle a good majority of others seemed more open to their kind. It seemed that the slivers of glowing green that possessed their hands could be of some use to the Inquisition after all... It was good news, and yet -- with hardly any offensive magic to her name anymore, Yuna still felt at a loss.

She often watched the other mages of this world, trying to find out how their spells worked, how they slung the elements about like they were nothing. This manner of fighting... was perhaps more suited to black mages.

And yet, the woman that she watched now seemed so confident in the way that she moved, in the way that her spells landed so expertly. Little by little, the summoner approached, wringing the edges of her cloak in her hands, intending only to observe -- not disturb.

[madame_de_fer]

So far, Vivienne has refrained from forming an open opinion of the rifters in one way or another. With good reason, she is rightfully suspicious of anything that comes stumbling out of the Fade. Granted, so had the Herald but she had been of Thedas and proven herself. These others were more suspect for the First Enchanter. Useful, to be sure, but then one could argue the same for demons and Vivienne was having none of those. No, she'd prefer to continue observing them and then making her own decisions about how beneficial or detrimental they were, both as a group and as individuals.

The Iron Lady knows that Yuna is present and is content to continue her efforts for some time without saying anything. It's best that all of these surprise arrivals have a healthy respect for what mages are capable of. However, once she's satisfied that good progress has been made in keeping her skills sharp and duly impressing her audience, Vivienne turns to Yuna.

"Does the mark pain you at all, my dear?"

[wontforgetyou]

Some of the new recruits - or volunteers, in Jamie's case - really do have terrible sense when it comes to fashion. Perhaps it's not his fault, given that he's come from a whole different world, but there's also a streak of stubbornness in this particular rifter that means that even after having been here long enough to be able to get access to more suitable clothing he's still insisting on walking in that red and green plaid atrocity he calls a 'kilt'. He's even still wearing a vaguely furry belt pouch over it, attached to a belt that for some unfathomable reason is being worn backwards so the buckle is resting against his back.

It does make him fairly noticeable at times - it's well known that he was one of the group of rifters that helped close the rift in Fisher's end, for example. And it may make him just as noticeable when a few days before he's sent back to the Mire he winds up approaching the training dummies for a little practice of his own, only to find Vivienne there ahead of him. She's impressive, to be sure, but he's more concerned with having inadvertently gotten in her way, something that brings out an apology from him even before taking everything else into consideration.

"Ah, I'd not realized these were in use. Sorry, I'll get out of your way."

[madame_de_fer]

Having a voice addressing her nearby garners Vivienne's attention and she turns to the sound. She doesn't mask that she's looking him over to see if it's a familiar face and good Maker, what is that man wearing? Despite her rather shocked internal reaction to whatever this is passing for clothing, her face doesn't betray a bit of it. However, she's already making plans to send his tailor a sternly worded letter.

"No need to apologize, my dear. You weren't any bother at all." She disapproves of bad style choices, but that's no reason to be rude or harsh. Yet. So instead, she opts to take the tactful approach. "I don't believe we've been introduced."

[wickedchase]

Observing her techniques on the dummy is terribly fascinating, though he imagines that Vivienne would be more incredible to observe in true battle. Still, this is a fine opportunity as any; her return to Skyhold may earn a mixed feeling, but he knows what he's about.

The hat comes off and the elf approaches while keeping a respectable distance. He bows his head a little. "Madame, I haven't seen that sort of technique before. Would you tell me more about it?"

[madame_de_fer]

Ah now here's someone Vivienne can appreciate. Polite and interested. The head bow is a nice touch and she's pleased with the gesture. It draws a genuine smile from her and she motions that he could step closer. The better to speak without raising voices and to better see things not visible from a distance.

"These are the skills of a Knight-Enchanter, my dear. It's a rare specialization of magic that few practice, and fewer still master. Historically speaking they have been placed as a protective guard for the Divine herself. It's a structured path that most mages shy from, choosing to keep themselves at safe distances from their foes. There are times for ranged attacks, naturally." But the Iron Lady holds no fear of plunging in to the heat of battle. Magical or political. "It takes a stern constitution to walk into the fray within reach of a blade."

[laurenande]

Before she'd traveled to the mire, Galadriel had, on occasion, taken ease on the balcony that overlooked the courtyard. It was a lovely spot to watch the sunrise, or to observe the strange stars that wheeled overhead. She hadn't thought much of the items strewn about when she'd moved through the boxes and rubble, but now it appeared someone had laid distinct claim on this space. The rubble was cleared, the windows were dressed and polished, and there was a curiously artful array of furnishings arranged along the threshold of the open balcony doors.

The plushness of the new rug was a pleasant surprise, particularly after suffering the Fallow Mire, but as she wandered through, Galadriel found herself more taken with the white settee. She regarded it curiously for a few minutes but, ultimately, decided against taking a seat on it. Instead, she moved carefully through the new décor and stepped out into the early morning sunlight.

It was a shame but, in her distraction, she had missed the sun cresting over the mountains. Nevertheless, she lingered and watched the sun rise until the rosy hues of dawn gave way to the pale blues of early morning. The wind was cold, here, but dry and utterly lacking the persistent scent of mold and decay. It was a pleasant enough morning and, as she turned back to the furnishings she'd strayed through, it became even more so. She hadn't noticed the gilding in the grey light of pre-dawn, but now the threads sparkled and gleamed.

It had been some time since she had enjoyed the look of such finely wrought things. She did not miss them, not precisely, but she lingered for some time looking at the unfamiliar patterns in the fabrics and studying the carvings on the chairs.

[madame_de_fer]

When Vivienne arrived at her balcony for the morning, she was surprised to find someone already there. Guests were not entirely unexpected, as any number of people sought her out for matters of business, to talk court politics, poke fun at the fashions of Rifters, the general existence of Tevinters, or any number of groups who at one point or another found a way to annoy the Iron Lady. This guest, however, was unexpected just at first glance.

She was clearly an elf; the ears were something of a dead giveaway. Yet, she was unlike any other elf Vivienne had ever encountered. Taller, certainly, and far less gangly looking than she was accustomed to, but it wasn't only this. There was a luminous quality that was hard to explain and harder still to ignore, as was a sense of power. Not in the same arrogant sense that Solas seemed to put out that was exceptionally off-putting. No, right away Vivienne could recognize something of an equal in spirit.

It unsettled her.

Still, there could be no excuse for being rude, even when she could feel that she'd quite met her match without a single word being uttered. "Isn't the carving on that chair exquisite? I knew the artisan who crafted it. He had no equal that I've been able to find."