faderift | OPEN ↠ HARING EVENT

OPEN ↠ HARING EVENT

WHO: All
WHAT: WINTER IS HERE
WHEN: Haring 15-Wintermarch 1
WHERE: The Gallows, Kirkwall
NOTES: You can use this post as an event-style mingle log, or just use it as background information for your RP elsewhere!

It's been a chilly month already, but in mid-Haring the temperature suddenly plummets. One day it's merely cold, and the next morning the Inquisition wakes to frost on the inside of the window panes and an icy draft whistling through every crack in the tower's masonry. Downstairs, the pipes that feed the bathing chambers and the kitchens creak in the walls, loud enough to be heard even out in the courtyard, where they run beneath the stones, and around midday, when the sun has failed to raise the temperature above freezing, a blocked pipe finally gives, cracking open to spill water across the central court and send it running down side passages. The whole area floods several inches deep and almost immediately begins to freeze, presenting at first a gigantic, treacherous slush puddle and, after a few hours, a sheet of sheer ice.

Melting a safe path from door to door and laying down sand or wood to keep it from becoming slick again is a simple enough undertaking, but before the entire courtyard can be thawed, someone appears with ice skates—and that’s a better idea, surely, for at least a few days. Anyone who complains about the frivolity can be assured it’s good exercise, not to mention good training for a force that may have to travel or fight on ice in the future.

Temperatures remain cold enough that even some parts of the harbor begin to freeze, first just at the calmest edges of the shoreline, and then the more protected nooks and crannies of the bay, inlets and the spaces between piers and beneath docks. It snows most days--not real storms, just a couple inches here and there--little enough for the window to blow most of it off the icy plain of the courtyard and other wide open, paved spaces, accumulating on branches and in alleyways, and creating growing drifts in corners and against walls.

After a week or so actual chunks of floating ice begin to fill the narrow channels of the harbor, threatening smaller and less-sturdy vessels, and the situation in the poorer parts of the city begins to grow dire. With the Viscount's blessing, Inquisition teams (particularly mages) are called in to help. Some are assigned to the docks, to clear ice that makes landing and unloading treacherous, others to help escort ships into harbor by melting a path ahead. Others are sent into Lowtown to clear ice and snow and to provide warmth and medical attention where needed. At least one mage is sent with each team, and while many neighborhoods are pleasantly surprised and grateful for the quick work fire glyphs make of cold hearths and frozen streets, a few are unable to overcome their distrust, and refuse the teams entry, determined to take care of their own without the help of dangerous outsiders.

In the last week of the year, a true blizzard strikes, snow falling steadily for more than a day, blanketing the city at least three feet deep. Digging out the Gallows will be a group effort, and most non-essential trips outside the base will be cancelled for a few days until travel is less difficult, while those who reside in the city or elsewhere may be encouraged to stay a night or two in the fortress so they might continue to work without traveling through the storm. But on the first day of Wintermarch the First Day feast goes on as planned, with modest but plentiful food and ale served in the Gallows' dining hall for anyone who wishes to celebrate the new year.

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Haldir shuffled up toward her.... unsure and anxious. He knew avoiding this conversation couldn't be avoided, but it didn't mean he had to be excited about it. After a quick bow, he spoke.

"Lady. I hope I do not intrude." There had been many intrusions today, so he would avoid one more if he could. "I...thought we should talk about... recent happenings." He shuffled his feet a little, waiting for her reply.

Haldir knew that Galadriel was not fond of lingering in the Gallows, they grated upon her and the cold weather had done nothing to improve her view of them. Today, however, she is seated with a smile on her face as she idly twists fiber into thread. It rolls through her fingers with casual grace and then winds around the palm of her left hand once it is fine and worsted enough to be considered solid.

He has come upon her now and all his posture screams his discomfort at her; she has known him a terribly long time, even by her reckoning, and she nearly feels badly that he is so discomforted. Nearly. There is some amusement to be had in this situation and, for all she will needle him, it delights her to see him in such a state.

"Haldir you cannot intrude upon me, it is both your duty and privilege to have access to me as you like," she says, her tone mild and unbothered. "But if you wish to speak about something of note, then I shall cease what I am doing and grant you my full attention."

Which she did. She rested her hands in her lap and smiled at him, gesturing to the seat before her on the windowsill. The snow fell gently outside and the whole of this tower was nearly silent for it.

He settles in next to her as bid, still unsure of how to even start the conversation. But, he realizes it's fleeting to try and be coy around someone who can sense your thoughts, so he just comes out and says what he is thinking.

"I did not expect any of what happened today to come to pass. Ellana and I had spoken before, and I thought her kind nature and bright mind most refreshing. But, I never thought those first feelings would amount to... what happened today. Never. I... am not sure if I am even worthy of her attentions, but I revel in them all the same."

Galadriel listens with a mild expression of happiness on her face; she makes no move to hinder him once he begins and, indeed, waits after he has finished for a solid moment or so. Once she is certain he is done, she tilts her head just slightly to the side.

"As you should, such attentions are for reveling," Galadriel says and reaches forward to place a hand, lightly, on his knee. "Did you come seeking recrimination, Haldir?"

Her smile spread and there was some humor in her eyes.

"You need not concern yourself, I shall not forbid you from such things. Those who labor under the greatest threats, who bear the heaviest burdens, need some lightness for their hearts. You deserve lightness more than most."

He was bashful at her praise, as he always was.

"Perhaps not recrimination, Lady, but I did not want you to believe me acting...untoward to your friend. I will be respectful, you have my word. I did not expect... to find this here of all places. I admit the change has been a hard one for me, but it is not so when she is near, silly as that may sound."

He chewed on some more thoughts in his mind, hesitant to utter them aloud, more for his sake than anything else. He had yet to find anything akin to a place or purpose in this world, but in striving to find that, a large part of him felt he would be betraying his life in Arda. The more he settled into this world, the more he lost his place there. And his place in Lorien was everything to him, or was. But, the farther he got from it, the more he saw how unimaginably lonely he was, even there.

Haldir falls silent after his admission and Galadriel watches as the thoughts shift behind his eyes. She has never made it a habit of reading the hearts of her men, not without cause, and discomfort is not cause enough to justify such things. Despite her reticence to read his heart, she thinks she recognizes the look that takes him. It is one she has worn in Thedas as well.

"Do you not wonder, Haldir, how we came to be here?" Galadriel asks and draws her hand back to settle both on her own lap. She leans forward in her chair, narrowing the space between them considerably. "I questioned it for some time and have found only one answer that could possibly be true."

She had met Legolas, Samwise Gamgee, and Maglor, all of whom had known the fate of the one ring, the fate of the war, and of Aragorn, all things which could not have passed without her knowledge. Her cousins walked the world, living and whole, and even Haldir--

"When I arrived, I spent several months in a fortress in the high mountains, wondering and waiting to learn the fate of Lorien. The woods could not survive the sight of Mordor without my aid, even with Celeborn, with all of you--" Here she leans forward and presses a hand to the side of his face, forces his gaze to hold her own. "The woods would burn and all I have worked for, that we have protected for all these ages, would come to ruin.

"But they did not. You are here, and so are my cousins, and Thranduil sits upon the council of a human army, and the world has not caught flame, nor the shadow consumed us," Galadriel continues and draws her hand back. "We have been borrowed, brought here to fulfill some purpose, and there is only one being who is capable of such feats.

"I know not why Eru Illuvatar has placed us in these lands, but I can guess. Likewise, I know not why you have been given back to me, but if your purpose is here, as it must be, then fear not what this world offers to you. It is a gift, doubly so, and you do not skirt your duty by enjoying it...just as I am not abandoning Lorien as I sit in these Gallows and weave."

Tears streamed unbidden down his face at her mention of Lorien burning. He saw it when he was forced to sleep, visions of all he cared about turning to ash. He felt as she did, feared as she did, and knowing that made that fear a little less overwhelming.

She cut to the very heart of him. Ripped him open, and then gave him new meaning. There must be a purpose to his coming here, coming to her, and he would find it. He was free to go as he chose, now that he wasn't tasked with the fortification of an entire forest. But, that sort of freedom was frightening. So many choices, and nothing could be interpreted as the right one. Joy hadn't really ever been at the forefront of his mind. It had always been duty, service and sacrifice. But, perhaps finding some joy was his purpose now.

Could he find joy with Ellana? It was possible. Her excitement at adventure tugged at his heartstrings, and made him for just a moment want to explore and search. He would never had thought of it as a possibility if he were in Lorien. She was as bright a beacon in this dark place as any of his beloved stars in Arda. A spark of hope that made the passing of days less dim, and the ache in his heart he always ignored forgotten. Much like Galadriel. Her wisdom and affection was always something he drew strength from, and with it he would weather any storm. He was not abandoning them, he had prepared them best as he could, and now he had to find out why he had been sent here.

"Your wisdom and light fill me once again with hope, Lady. It was wrong of me to despair. Thank you. I am, as always, yours. Use me as you will, even if it is for a joyful purpose."

Edited 2017-12-20 08:06 (UTC)

"Do not apologize for despair, Haldir, it is a something that must be felt by all of us, in our time," Galadriel replies and reaches forward to smooth her fingers across his cheek and banish the tear tracks there upon. "We will feel it often in our long lives and, if nothing else, I should hope we can share in one another's joys and sorrows.

"Though our kin walk beneath these stars, we are the only Galadhrim, you and I. We, above all others, understand what this world has lost, what it might regain, and how cautiously we must guard ourselves against the night." Galadriel tells him softly. "It would not be so difficult to create an Elvenhome in these lands, a new city of safety and rest, and in truth is there a purpose that holds more joy than that?

"It will not be tomorrow, nor soon, but one day we shall do what we have been brought here to do, accomplish what only we can, and the world will be gladder for it. Until then, do not deny the joys and sorrows of this world, for we live yet and to live is to know them both."

He blushed red as a tomato at her touch. She had rarely, if ever, been so direct in her affections and care of him before. But, to be fair, they had never had long moments in which they sat and sought out each other's council. Often, there would be a task that needed doing, and she would let him know what she wished, and he would make sure it was completed. It was a different shift in their relationship, but not one he disliked by any means.

"I feel strangely fortunate in coming here. Fortunate that I can be here for you, and Thranduil. He seemed more than a little relieved to see another Silvan elf. And, fortunate for meeting Ellana and hearing about new adventures. I will admit the treatment the elves have endured is disquieting, and building a place of refuge for them would be a noble goal. If you have a wish to have that formed, I will do all I can to see it a reality."

"But, I also long for home. I do not know how you keep going, Lady. I miss our home, our trees, our people. I even miss Rúmil and Orophin, and you know there has never been much love between us. I don't have the connection to Lorien you have, nor a love waiting for me. The love between you and Celeborn often left me in awe, and I cannot imagine what the pain of that loss would be like."

Her hand falls away from his face as he speaks, his ill-ease with the gesture written upon his face and in the set of his shoulders. She will not refrain from it, because he had not asked and because she knew Haldir's moods well, but she will give him time before taking such familiarities again. She listens as he speaks, gladdened by his fortunes in Thedas, but his regrets and longings are so terribly close to her own. Her smile, soft and earnest falls away as she considers him, as she conjures a response worthy of the statement he has made.

"I have not lost him," she says and it tastes only half a lie. Thranduil had made it perfectly clear that their bond had not severed, but for all his comforts, Thranduil knows his cousin's mind far less intimately than Galadriel does. She is comforted by the idea that Celeborn has not passed, but always she is aware of the limits of their love. A sea will divide them as surely as the sun will set.

"Though we are terribly far apart, it is neither the first time I have been parted nor the farthest I have been taken from those I love. Celeborn is strong and has his home to ease him, I worry not for his heart in my absence. Without such worry, my longing is a distant, girlish thing; I shall survive."

Again, it tasted only half a lie.

He resisted the urge to touch the place on his cheek Galadriel had touched. But, he drank her words like a man dying of thirst, and it filled the hole in his chest.

"I would not call such longing girlish, Lady. It is a longing we all share. And most of us have never held love so dear as you and Celeborn." He paused for a beat, greiving for them in his own small way.

"There is a difference between surviving and living. My short time here has given me insight into both. I would not wish you just to suvive. I wish you to thrive. You have endured, through more than I will ever know, but I wish more for you. I will fight for that future, tooth and nail."

Haldir cannot know how deeply his words strike her, nor how painful the twist of them is as he assures her of the dearness of her husband's love. She does not doubt him, more than anything she wishes she could believe as he does, and it pains her to know that it is untrue.

His well wishes are honest and heartfelt and there is naught to be said in the face of such feeling, such earnest desire. Haldir's heart is true and devoted in a way that few elves ever manage and, in times like these, she recalls why he has ascended to his station and remained there for such a span of time. She would have no other head her guard, no other that she trusted so implicitly, and her soft smile says as much.

"Thank you, Haldir, your words are a balm. I am glad to have you here, more than you can know." She settles back in her chair and lifts her spinning again. "Say hello to Ellana for me, when next you see her."

And so simply, he is dismissed and their moment set aside next to all the others that have passed between them.

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OPEN ↠ HARING EVENT

Time for the worlds most awkward conversation with Mom

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