it takes me back to where i first started; | ota

[lacere]

WHO: Scout Harding and you!
WHAT: A catch-all for all your Lace needs, including mothering scouts going on adventures, gossip from her underlings about her supposed relationship with Bruce, tavern time with friends, and runs back and forth to the Hinterlands -- but if there's something you want to do with her, now's the time!
WHEN: From the beginning of Haring prior to the Scout departure, and until the middle weeks.
WHERE: Skyhold and the Hinterlands, potentially.
NOTES: None at the moment.

1. SCOUT TEAM PREPARATIONS ;

She is not going with them.

It is strange to not be, to be surrounded by those who were recruited with her and after her and those that are her fellow scouts, her Inquisition family, and to not be joining them in this venture. She will, with time - wherever the Inquisition goes to next, these are only forward scouts, and she trusts them to do the job assigned, to chart the way for when she and the others do get there, for when they start to make a holding in these places.

Harding's front is perfect, and practiced. Outwardly, it does not bother her, and she makes busy. She reiterates orders from the top, goes over the plans and the information the Inquisition has scrounged up on both destinations multiple times, checks and rechecks supplies, goes to the quartermaster, goes to the armory, prepares. But it is not for her -- and despite it all, it is still strange not to be going with them. She trusts in what she and each of them have to do, and yet - do they spread themselves too thinly? Should they concentrate their efforts and not have her go elsewhere, when she could help here?

She has her own things to do, after this. And despite the inner questions, Harding is firm.

In the day leading up towards the scouting party's departure, Harding makes her final checks, but most of all, she lends an ear to any nerves that might need soothing, and mothers over her effective flock. If you don't see her beforehand, you'll find a drink heading your way in the tavern that night from her but also a quiet reminder to not sit here all night and go to bed.



2. SCANDALOUS GOSSIP!!, OR, ON MARIGOLDS AND HIGHTOWNS ;

It does not take long for the rumours to find their way back to Harding.

For one thing, the scouts in the mire had already talked about her secret paramour in earshot after she'd written several letters to Bruce, so she was aware - she had laughed once, and then firmly told them to cut it out. That had done little to dissuade them once they had a face (and a name) to attach to this 'B' that their boss had been writing to, apparently, as the rumours circulated around the mire and Skyhold and made their way back to her, in paper form as well as eavesdropping. Really, they should have expected no less from their boss who worked for their spymaster, who knew everything.

Plus this piece of paper with to the minute breakdowns of time she and Bruce spent together. If only they put this level of detail into their reports.

Still, at first it was only the scouts, but now it seems that everyone and their mabari knows, from the dignitaries arriving to the scullery maid to the horsemaster, and each retelling gets wilder and wilder. A passionate kiss had been in the latest retelling, and, frankly, this was getting out of hand.

Harding's first port of call is to seek out Bruce.

Of course, you can approach her before or after that about the rumours. Who wants to know about Harding n' Hightown? Everyone, apparently.



3. TAKING A BREAK ;

Whilst not making preparations or seeing to scout duties, Harding is a frequent visitor to the Herald's rest. She comes and goes without a word, sometimes bringing her work, sometimes making the the tavern itself her work and occasionally dropping coin into more than just an ale for herself.

She invites friends on occasion, and sometimes seeks them out. Sometimes she writes, sometimes she reads, sometimes she spends too long watching a particularly handsome individual for no reason than maker, they're so aesthetically pleasing and please stay for the rest of the night, thanks.



4. ON ASSIGNMENT (THE HINTERLANDS, THE FROSTBACKS);

The presence may be known, but there is still much to be done and connections to be upheld. It's all about presence as well as making the Inquisition stronger, making them seem more reliable and a constant. Harding knows this well; whilst the Herald ploughed ahead, those below were the ones to be her reach where she could not be, and now with her passing, that was even more important. They had gone to the mire and done what was needed well enough, but the Hinterlands remained.

Harding makes frequent runs to The Crossroads and further to Redcliffe, bringing people for deal-making, scouts with supplies, sometimes on covert missions selling stuffed nugs with another dwarf (don't ask). Sometimes she goes further afield across the Frostbacks, sticking to the mountain paths that may or may not have been forged by the Inquistion, to keep watch, to wait for those from Orlais and Ferelden and further afield who have announced their intention on visiting the Inquisition. Sometimes she takes people back, rather than to, but there are many hours to spend in the cold, waiting, watching.

Do you go with her on one of these excursions?



5. OR IS THERE SOMETHING ELSE YOU HAD IN MIND?

Comments

1

[gatheringstorm]

The evening before heading out, Korrin's seeking out Harding wherever she might be found. She's done her packing and training for her trek to Emprise du Lion with the others, but she's far too restless to crash early. So, it's on her mind to seek out one of the best scouts in the Inquisition. Hopefully she'll be able to bestow some advice. Battle-wise, Korrin doesn't need the help, but when it comes to scouting missions and keeping a low profile, she's somewhat less talented...and yet not too proud to hold back from admitting it.

When she spots the dwarven scout, Korrin flashes a smile as she approaches. "Hey, got a minute?"

[lacere]

Harding's outside the armory when Korrin finds her, sat on a box next to another box, checking arrows. Some are bought in, some are made here in Skyhold by practiced hands, but each one gets the same inspection. It's dull work, but never the less, she's insisted on doing it; so far, next to all have met her standards, except for two (one already snapped in half in transit, and the other, the flint dropped off as she picked it up, so, yeah, that'll be good for fire starting and not much else).

She smiles back as Korrin approaches, lowering the arrow in her hands. "I've always got a minute for you, Korrin. How's the preparation going?"

[gatheringstorm]

Recognizing tedious work when she sees it, Korrin feels less guilty about interrupting the scout. Everyone needs a break from that at some point, so it might as well be now. She leans against the wall, crossing her arms.

"I've done all I can, for now. At least I think so. Packing is done; if I take on any more it'll compromise that need to travel light. That's a priority, isn't it? I admit, I haven't experience or talent with this sort of mission. I'll blast away whatever needs it, but otherwise, I have a feeling that the actual scouts will be doing most of the work."

[lacere]

"It's a balance," Harding nods, face thoughtful. "You might be out there for a while, and you're not really sure what you're gonna find when you do. You might not be able to speak to the locals and get more food, or weapons, or clothes. It might just be you and your fellow scouts that you have to rely on. The further away it is, the more you should take... and if you did, it might take you even longer to get there."

She shakes her head, because that's all shop-talk, and will probably do nothing but add to Korrin's nerves, if there are any. "You're a team, but you have to make sure you have what you need. Mages don't usually come along, but if there's a way to make something easier, then suggest it. The scouts can do their thing, but so can you."

[gatheringstorm]

That shop-talk is met with a nod, as Korrin's willing to listen to it all. How can she fail to take Harding's insight into account when much of the success that the Inquisition has had is due to her? She'll have to figure out how to keep that balance in mind. Too much or too little could really hamper their efforts out there, and she won't be the one to do it. "I don't usually have a problem making myself heard, but I want to make sure I'm not trampling over those who have the skillset more relevant to all this.

And I can handle my own needs, always have. As long as my staff and potions are with me, that's what matters. I've tried to big as much in the way of ingredients for the latter as possible, but it's hard to estimate when we're not sure if we're heading back or waiting for everyone to catch up." So, erring on the side of caution. "You said mages don't usually come along, but have you worked with any on your scouting trips?"

4.

[the_effect_she_has]

Katniss could have come up to Lace as one of her fledgling scouts, true enough. She could have come to her as one warrior or another. But long before there was Lead Scout Harding and Other Archer Everdeen, there were two young girls in the Hinterlands. Their parents were friends - and they ran the hills until the Blight came and changed all of their worlds.

It was to that memory that she appeared in the Herald's Rest, a place she rarely visited but that for Lace being here that she appeared. Taller now, even taller than when they were growing up, and a hint of world weariness to her shoulders. But her slight smile was warm as she dropped down at Lace's table and said with utter seriousness.

"So, I've heard that someone around here might just be the Lead Scout of the entire Inquisition. Someone I always said should do more than just herd goats."

[lacere]

"I can't imagine who that person would be," Harding feigns, off-handedly, with a shrug. She tries to sound blase, not bothering to look up from her report (because she saw Katniss when she entered, knew her immediately, of course she did), but the smile spreads on her face all the same until she does look up. "This Lead Scout of yours doesn't sound like a terribly smart person. Good thing they had you - and that hole in the sky - to set them on the right path."

[the_effect_she_has]

"Oh can't you? She was ... oh, around your height. Same kind of eyes, same kind of freckles. Although honestly her sense of humor tended to be ... kind of dry." Katniss put her chin on her hand, smiling in turn. "And she had to have some brains -- after all she gave up goats for callow youths. I am sure they listen somewhat better."

She let out a sigh, "And I can't be smart either, jumping into a battle where we're going against ancient darkspawn and power-mad templars and Venatori."

[lacere]

Harding hums, thoughtfully, leaning back in her chair. "The sheep don't talk back," she says. Or spread rumours - or maybe they did, who knew what kind of rumours sheep spread to their sheep friends, and there was this one ram in Redcliffe that One-Eyed Jimmy had practically begged every passerby to find. Maybe the gossip had spread to him already.

"Well, sometimes you just have to know when to make a stand for a world you haven't already seen, but you're going to. And to help everyone you find along the way. Not that I know the two people we're talking about, or anything." Harding laughs, shaking her head. "Welcome to the Inquisition, Katniss. You'll find that none of us are too smart about our day jobs here."

1

[sistertohermen]

Rachette tries not to be short with this scouting dwarf telling them all what to do and how to do their jobs. Tries, in fact, to mostly keep her head (figuratively) down and out of sight. She already knows how to scout, it's just the area (desert? really?) she would need to learn how to handle. The heat and dryness will be welcome, though.

Still, she doesn't know everything, even if she'd like to. And she shouldn't be jumpy around other dwarves, ones without a brand. She schools herself into a calm much like this scout, Harding, has done. "So, what exactly can we expect of Grey Wardens?"

[lacere]

Mindfulness is not a bad thing; neither is thinking for oneself. Harding sees a lot of scouts, sees a lot of people with something to prove who readily eat into her advice because it's all new to them. She gets it, because she was like that, a little, but put forward her ideas, her thoughts, surprised people in what she could and was able and willing to do. She notices the other dwarf because, well, firstly, she's a dwarf, and second, because she keeps to herself and doesn't hop to everything she reiterates from higher up the chain of command. That's good; that's a sign of someone who thinks, who knows what they're doing.

Harding recognises Rachette vaguely when she approaches, stood in the courtyard surrounded by supplies that will soon be distributed down to smaller, portable sizes. "If there wasn't a hole in the sky and we didn't know they were up to something, then I'd probably only be able to tell you what everyone knows. But right now, all we really know is that they're doing something in western Orlais." The specifics, she isn't privy to. She knows 'amiss', 'not good', but beyond that? "Secretive, yes. I doubt you'll be able to just go up and approach them and say hello, or else they wouldn't have gone off to the Western Approach and we wouldn't have a group of them showing up in Skyhold... so that means a lot of watching. Noting details, even if you don't think it'll help. Someone else'll know what it means. Maybe even the Wardens here."

[sistertohermen]

Chette frowns a little, mulling it over. Sure, that's the idea of what to expect specifically here, in this scenario, but wasn't exactly what she meant. Of course, she hadn't been very specific in her wording, either. "Sure," she says with an almost dismissive wave of her hand, looking around at the supplies, "I understand that, but there are a lot of rumors and stories about what Wardens are capable of. And I'm not about to trust exaggerated tavern tales. Ancestors willing, we won't have to engage them and blow the trip, but it might be helpful to split fact from fiction."

[lacere]

Harding considers. "I haven't met many," she says, slowly. "They fight darkspawn and kill Archdemons, but beyond that? They're people. People that fight together and know the values and advantages of working alongside warriors, mages, rogues, and every variation after that. Something has them worried, and when people are worried, they fight harder."

2 obviously

[amygdalae]

The gossip... yes. The gossip was indeed something Bruce could live without, although at this point he supposed there wasn't anything that he could do about it. Still, that didn't really help with the side way glances that several of the scouts and other assorted people were giving him as he went about his usual daily routine of checking up on the patients under his care.

Then again, he had to remember that the refugees weren't exactly immune to gossip as well.

When Harding finds him Bruce is currently occupied with an elderly old lady, and there is an extremely patient smile on his face as the lady gives him as assorted variation of advice about 'chasing that fine young lady' and how to treat her right. Clearly, unless somebody intervenes, Bruce is going to be there for a while.

[lacere]

Harding hears this advice on her approach, and slows. Truthfully, the gossip didn't bother her - it's rather flattering that this elderly lady thinks of her so, for one - and she would take it in stride. The Inquisition and beyond could believe what they wanted, should they please, and she would firmly tell them no. Or say nothing and let them speculate, because she knew the truth... and there were worse rumours to deal with. No, what really bothered was if it turned harmful, and if Bruce was okay with it. She was okay with it; but he shouldn't have to sit through an elderly lady giving him a stern talking to about treating Scout Harding right and however many other people that wanted to give their input in the matter.

"Bruce," Harding announces, finally covering the remaining space and standing alongside him, far enough away that the lady gives her a brief look and a smile of encouragement to take his arm or something. Who knows. "M'aam. Is something the matter? Anything I can do to help?"

[amygdalae]

Ah, it was the woman of the hour, as it were. Bruce turns his gaze over to Harding when she makes her presence known, feeling a mix of relief and also a bit of guilt over all the trouble that had cropped up since the Mire. Bruce was perfectly alright with gossip himself, but Harding being dragged into it was the part that he felt bad about.

The elderly lady starts to speak, but Bruce politely cuts her off before much can be said, telling her that yes, he will go spend some time with the very fine lady now, and she did not need to worry about him. She was pleased, as expected, and Bruce gave Harding an apologetic glance as he gestured for her to move first, himself trailing behind right after her.

[lacere]

Harding smiles at Bruce, and to the woman, though to someone who does know her, it's clearly an amused smile at the doting and strange sort of blessing this woman was giving them as she took the initiative to start walking away.

"So you've heard about the rumours, I take it," Harding says, once they're out of earshot and the lady has gone about her business (to inform everyone who will listen about this pairing, potentially).

3

[harthad_uluithiad]

The Herald's Rest. It hadn't taken long for Sam to make his way to Skyhold's tavern, once he'd been made aware of its existence. He had hoped, in this place where everything and everyone is unfamiliar, that the tavern might offer a little bit of home, and he isn't disappointed. Everything is too big, of course, from the chairs to the people (though you won't find him complaining about the taller mugs of beer), but it's cheerful and friendly and cozy in a way nothing else but a tavern quite is, and he sips his ale contentedly, feeling more at home than he had since he'd arrived.

And then he catches sight of her - someone else about his size, tucked inconspicuously into a corner across the room. The sight of someone else small is enough to make his heart leap a bit in his chest, if only for the hope of solidarity, and he moves before he can think twice, making his way carefully through the crowd until he's standing before her table. She's working, he can see now, bent industriously over a stack of papers on the table and writing in what seems to be the same unfamiliar script that everyone here uses. He hesitates at the sight of how busy she is, but when she glances up and catches sight of him he has no choice but to bob his head in greeting, blushing scarlet.

"Hello," he mumbles. "Beg pardon - I didn't mean to interrupt."

[lacere]

The thing about being small and a dwarf is that you're much more likely to spot other smaller people, or dwarves. Maybe it's an unpoken rule of congregating, maybe it's just easier to see a face so much closer to the ground than all the way up there, especially when it's busy. So she spots Sam almost as soon as he makes a beeline in her direction.

She's heard about this one. A dwarf but not a dwarf, but short enough. Shorter, even. It's a very rare day indeed for her to come out taller. She's also not sure what to expect beyond that initial approach, but when he does greet her and flushes, a quirked smile spreads over her face. Points for being strangely charming.

"Not an interruption at all," she says. That might be a lie, given the paperwork surrounding her. It might not be - she's busy, yes, but she always has time for the Inquisition and its people first. Particularly the shorter folk. Solidarity and all that. "You can join me if you want to."

[harthad_uluithiad]

He brightens at the invitation, smiling gratefully and easing into a seat across from her. "Thank you," he says, and hesitates. He's still watching her; it's not like him to study anyone so openly, especially when he's being watched right back, but the reason for his unashamed curiosity becomes clear almost immediately.

"Begging your pardon, but...you wouldn't happen to be a hobbit, would you?" The hope shines clear in his face. She's still a bit tall, maybe, but it's harder to tell for certain with her sitting, and she doesn't look particularly dwarfish - at least, she looks nothing like the dwarves that he's seen. It's unlikely, he knows, but...well, it's possible, isn't it?

[lacere]

The watching doesn't make her uncomfortable. Not really. She's used to having a lot of eyes upon her now, and in this instance, it makes her wary; not wary that he's going to do something ill-toward, but because that is the face of a fleeting hope. Of desperation, one last shot.

And when the question is indeed asked, she feels it. She has no real clue as to what a hobbit is, except that he is one, and she could be one. But she is not; she's to be the crusher of a dream and a disappointment and both are things she doesn't want to be, but it would be crueler to lie. And so Harding sighs, very, very softly, and gives the kindest smile she can muster to try to let him down as gently as she can. "I'm not, I'm afraid. I'm a dwarf. A surfacer if you wanted to be precise." But those are semantics that would mean very little to him and so she doesn't elaborate. "I'm sorry I'm not what you're looking for."

3

[arlathvhen]

Harding isn't the only one stuck behind while everyone else is going off to explore. Beleth understands the worry that she might feel, and leaves her boss alone while she clucks at the other scouts like a mother hen. However, the Herald's Rest isn't work, exactly, so it would be safe to approach then, surely. Maybe? Maybe she should just let Harding deal with important matters.

But a friendly ear can be helpful, so the next time Beleth sees Harding in the tavern, still working, even here. Slowly, she approaches the other woman.

"Would you like a drink, Scout Harding? I think that if anyone's deserved a break, it's you."

[lacere]

Maker know she's probably clucked enough at the scouts that haven't gone to make up for her missing children, and that's even with the circulating rumours. See what attachment does to you?

When Beleth approaches, Harding gives her a smile of greeting, looking up and twirling the quill between her fingers absently. On the one hand, maker, yes. On the other, these reports are not going to write themselves.

"I wouldn't say turn down a free drink, Scout Beleth," is what she says instead with a smile.

[arlathvhen]

Beleth nods, like a good, obedient scout, and hustles off. She returns in a timely manner, sitting down across from Scout Harding with the mug of ale, but doesn't offer it quite yet. It's a little more daring than she usually gets, but because it's Harding, she feels pretty sure that a little lip won't get her kicked out of the Inquisition--especially when the lip is for Harding's own good.

"I have one condition for this ale--you can't work while you drink it." She's pretty sure Harding wouldn't just chug it--that'd pretty much ruin any paperwork at all getting done for the evening, until the buzz wore off. "If it makes you feel better, consider what will happen to me if you overwork yourself and pass away in the night. I will be out of a boss, and possibly a job. What about the other scouts? Some have families."

She held out the ale, her other hand over her heart as she said, with only a slight bit of exaggeration, "Please, Lead Scout, think of the children. And the alcohol."

[lacere]

In the time Beleth is gone, Harding wastes no time in getting back to work. She's still mid-sentence when she returns and the lack of the ale appearing on her side of the table is what gets her to look up and then a smirk slowly begins to creep across her face which she doesn't seek to halt.

"You know that's insubordination," she says calmly, and it might have been a chide once upon a time, but her eyes give away her amusement. Plus the smirk, that helps. "Not to mention emotional blackmail." Because she's fairly sure she's the parent in this equation and the Scouts are her children. "But you raise a compelling argument. The Inquisition scouts would be in a sorry state without me, so I guess I'll overlook that oversight. Just this once."

Does she get the ale now? She's shuffling her reports into a pile and holding them together with twine, she's not going to touch them for... oh, maybe half an hour.