OPEN | Dreams are more precious than gold

[mythalenaste]

WHO: Pel, Nathaniel, and Colin
WHAT: Open log for the month of December/Haring
WHEN: All month
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: Some warning for grief and loss, anxiety disorders, chronic pain, and Rendon Howe.

Pel

I: The Alienage

Pel is bundled up, with coarse fennec pelts strapped around her boots for traction. Little Sina is similarly bundled and peering curiously at this new white world. Before leaving the Gallows, Pel stops to take the time to introduce the little girl to snow for the first time, letting her touch it to test the coldness, and showing her the intricacies of a single flake against the dark contrast of one glove. Then she hoists the baby up into a harness on her back and sets out.

The alienage has a great need right now, being in such a poor state of repair generally. Pel's aid there is less magic and more elbow grease, hauling a bag of sand gathered from the shore and scattering it over the ice. The only magic used for it is the magic she directs inward to increase her own strength.

Inside houses it's a little different. People are desperately cold. Some see that there are mages given to other parts of town and request magical aid, desperate not to freeze themselves and their children to death. Pel seldom suggests magic herself if there is any other way, but finds herself making quite a few glyphs--on stones, for putting at the foot of a bed, in the fireplace, even stitched discreetly into one man's gloves and stockings because he works at the docks and is in danger of frostbite. Sina observes all of this, and Pel somehow feels like this is just as important for her daughter as for anyone. At seven months old, she is already being exposed to the value of hard work.

Saoirse

A grateful elf has made hot stew for the Inquisition workers. Pel sits by Saoirse and hands her a bowl.

"Eat up while it's hot, lethallan."

II: Ice Skating

Pel is quite literally in her element in this weather. In the center of the courtyard, without asking anyone, she creates an ice sculpture of a roaring dragon unfolding its wings. And almost immediately after, she takes a pair of skates, straps them on, and introduces Little Sina to a new form of movement, holding her tightly in her arms so she can watch her daughter's face.

The first slide is gentle, slow, and the little girl looks at once baffled and intrigued. The second slide is quicker, and an open smile flashes across her face. By the third, she is laughing, and so is Pel. Faster and faster they go, making turns, sometimes going backwards. Soon, Sina is shrieking with laughter.

It's the first time since the older Sina's death that Pel has had laughter in her life.

Sorrel

"Here." Pel skates up to him to pass the baby to him, breathless and grinning. "Your turn."

Herian

Pel is now taking up her sword practice indoors, where it is not likely she will slip and break her neck. In a wide-open room, she goes through the stances while Sina lies belly-down on a blanket, trying to push herself up to hands and knees. Herian walks in, and Pel stops to give her a wave.

"Grab a sword and spar with me."




Nathaniel

I: Closed to Loghain

As Nathaniel is terribly formal, he leaves Loghain a note to join him for dinner in his quarters. As he is terribly polite, he cooks the meal himself. As he is terribly nervous, he fusses over table setting and almost calls off the entire thing because is it really doing to do him any good to have this conversation?

But he has to know.

He hears the knock. "Come in," he calls.

II: Warden Office

Most days, especially with the cold and snow, Nathaniel is drawn and pale. His ribs are nearly healed from the most recent break, but his rheumatism is worse than ever, and he can feel every shift in barometric pressure. He has gone all out with the fire glyphs and buried himself in paperwork, including a new sign (paper) on the door.

WARDENS--

Enquire here for work assignments. For relief effort requisitions, please speak with Senior Warden Teren.

--Ser Nathaniel

Ciri

A message comes over Ciri's crystal:

"Warden, please meet me in the office at your earliest convenience."

Bethany

Since there are relief efforts underway, Bethany and Nathaniel have been hard at work. Their donation funds are not going back to the public, of course--the Wardens need the charity. But they are finding an increase in donations the more legwork their people put into relief efforts. After Bethany delivers her daily report, Nathaniel stands, supporting himself against his desk.

"With that," he groans, "I'm done. If anyone else needs anything, Alistair or Loghain can handle it."




Colin

I: Closed to Gareth

It's bizarre, the effect any shift plays on Colin. He doesn't like the open, shared room he is in. He wants somewhere small and safe. But outside the room is less safe. He is paralyzed by a peculiar mix of complacency and fear, ready to simply tuck himself away until the snow melts because who would go outside in the snow? Isn't it a good excuse not to see or talk to anyone?

But he has to work. He has to help the city, too. These are orders, not options.

He calls Gareth over the crystals. He should probably talk to someone who already knows why he cowers like this, but Gareth feels safer.

"Gareth? Could you...could you come to my room?"

It's humiliating. He feels weak and pathetic. But he needs help leaving his room.

II: All Over Kirkwall

During lunchtime, Colin closes the shop and starts making his rounds in the city. He rolls a cart with a rich, hearty pork bone soup with fresh bread on the side, all kept piping hot by a couple of runestones. All the hardworking people need to do is bring a cup to get fed. In Lowtown and the alienage, quite a few citizens also come, and he feeds them without question.

Anders

After lunch is passed out, Colin sits on a step, sipping on a mug of soup and occasionally dipping bread into it. When he sees Anders, he grins and waves.

"Did you get food?"

Comments

[pinprick]

Nathaniel hesitates, then dips his head in acquiescence.

"Thank you for speaking with me," he says quietly, and stands to show Loghain the door and open it for him.

He has inherited the blame and the guilt because his father didn't want them, and died before he could actually pay for his crimes. It strikes him now, very sharply, that Loghain has not let the same burden fall to Anora. He has accepted his part and paid his part. That is where the real line between them is drawn--not in whose mind originated which plot, but whether they even tried to protect their children from the consequences. Nathaniel used to believe his father was a good man, albeit a little reserved, but there was nothing about Rendon Howe that was either. Loghain was the true fallen hero of the story. Loghain is who Rendon Howe should have been, and the realization sweeps aside a great many things that have stuck Nathaniel to this entire affair.

He can finally give himself permission to give up on his father.

[mactears]

Nathaniel opens the door for him, and Loghain begins to step out into the corridor. On the threshold, however, he pauses to look at Rendon Howe's son, meeting his eyes and holding his gaze. He reaches out a hand to clasp his shoulder, squeezes it once. For a moment he looks as though he might speak.

Then without another word, he steps into the corridor and disappears from view, with Primrose rising from her watchful post to trot along at his heels.