faderift | voices disappear when you were speaking in somber tunes;

WHO: Sabriel Abhorsen and you. Yes, you!!
WHAT: Sabriel has a lot on her plate with Warden things, Councillor things, and dumb crush things. She also has a future in making magic boots for said dumb crush and teaching herself how to fight decently with that sword she carries around. Much busy, wow.
WHEN: Early to mid Haring.
WHERE: Skyhold, in varying locales.
NOTES: None at the moment.

1. IN PEACE, VIGILANCE ;

First and foremost, she is a Warden.

Though the Inquisition has absorbed them into their ranks in order to keep them hidden, it's inevitable they congregate, especially when you and your order are prone to sleeping in fits and bursts and not during the late hours of the night when everybody else wanders the Fade (or not, in a dwarf's case). Sabriel doesn't know where they are, but she's easy enough to find should they look, at her regular haunts and not at her bedroll, anywhere with a fire and a potentially promising distraction, such as writing, or tea, or companionship.

Sometimes, it's during normal hours she seeks them out with news (there is none), or worries (what will the scouts find at the Western Approach?), or packages (possibly of socks).

Throughout her wanderings, she also makes a point of seeking out Zevran Arainai.

2. A COUNCILLOR OF MAGI ;

Acting as liaison between the Council and her Warden brothers had been something Sabriel had expected in those early gatherings about what the mages should do about their Skyhold presence, but she had not expected in those early days to become a Councillor. Still, Sabriel took this new responsibility seriously, and it was a familiar sort of routine in that she was used to listening to the troubles of a young mage and resolving it best she could. Of course, that was in a Circle. Here, outside in the real world, it was far different, and the suggestion of recess by her peers had occurred far too many times for her to count. Progress was slow, and near non-existant, but with their move to the Vault as a permenant meeting place, perhaps the Council of Magi would begin to move forward as more than just an idea.

This new role doesn't cloud the fact she's a Warden, but it does mark her as more approachable throughout Skyhold, whether it be in the library and reading or research, or for study of poultices or spells, or practice out in the courtyard, or for that mid afternoon snack you just can't wait for and you find Sabriel down in the kitchens eating another sandwich. After meetings and discussions, Sabriel is slow to leave. Perhaps it is she that approaches you, or you approach her, out past the kitchens or up the stairs to the hall.

3. ENCHANTMENT? OR, ETERNALLY WARM BOOTS ;

She had promised magic boots to Scipio, and she would deliver. The problem? That it seemed the only way forward was through enchantment, as spellwork failed. Truly, she had been through too many pairs of cast off boots... and received a few odd looks from the quartermaster as he sent them her way, only for them to return as cinders. No, what she needed, and what every book suggested and she'd railed against, was a dwarven expert, or a Tranquil.

Both had been lacking... up until she had returned from the mire, when two tranquil arrived with the templar Nevra.

It would gain her boots, and would give the Tranquil routine. She sat with them, assisted as she could with the latest mire-soiled pair of boots she'd received, and the Tranquil did not bat an eye lid, but continued work. She was careful with them, overly considerate... Sabriel was not scared of the Tranquil, exactly, but she was concerned she asked too much of them as they would not say no, could not help her mind wandering and wondering at the horror of losing all emotion.

But today, as the tranquil watched, there was progress. The boots did not burn. At least, not for a few seconds.

"Almost," she sighed.

The Tranquil she worked with blinked. Perhaps they would have been disappointed, but instead, they only turned to Sabriel, and the pile of waiting boots that would soon become more dust in the wind. "Is there another rune you wish for us to try?"

And so the enchanting continued.

4. MAGE SEEKING TEMPLARS FOR FIGHTING LESSONS ;

They had laughed the first time she had asked.

Sabriel was a regular attender of training sessions out in the training arena, if only in that she watched from a distance. Where the Templars hadn't known her as a mage when she first appeared, now they did. It took her a few visits to ask, as before in the tower, it had been something to keep a secret, that she wielded a sword instead of a staff, but now... now, she really did feel she should know how to use it beyond what she could mimic. Training seemed the obvious way forward, and who better to teach her than those who understood her lack of physical strength?

But they laughed. It was not unkind laughter, but disbelieving. A mage wanting to wield a sword and to train with them? What a strange mage. And with that thought in mind, she could not train with them, and no one volunteered to take her under her wing.

That did not deter Sabriel, however. Today, she was back again, and she would ask until she got a yes. And maybe if she didn't, she'd join the exercise anyway.

5. LET'S DO SOMETHING ELSE!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Between the headache of arguing against required Harrowings -afterward staring daggers at Daylen the entire time- and her eyes glazing over as the minutiae of uniforms was discussed for far too long, Korrin's relieved to see the meeting end. And she's also relieved to be free from it for a few weeks, on the verge of being sent elsewhere. As long as it's not the mire and she isn't required to deal with mage politics, two things she hasn't been able to escape lately, Korrin can deal.

After the meeting, she approaches Sabriel, who's been on her mind lately. They haven't had a chance to talk after that conversation in the mire, and she's been worried about her friend. So as they depart, she falls into step alongside her. "Is it just me or are we making progress? If slightly less shouting, tea breaks and headaches count. Though I still need something stronger to take the edge off."

Sabriel had been particularly quiet on both fronts - she already had a uniform to a cause far greater than just herself, and though she felt something for official occasions would be best, she saw the pros of having one all the time. And the cons. The same for Harrowings; there was a merit to them, but even as the argument droned on and on about strength of will and necessity and that it was unnecessary and what not, she was thinking back to her own, and how, even with her skill and aptitude for magic, she quite easily would have died if she had not kept her wits about her. Just where was Mogget now? Not dead, for certain.

She seems tired when she moves to leave, but then, she often does look tired, these days. "I'm surprised a break to the tavern wasn't made as a suggestion after the third time," Sabriel half-smiles. She wouldn't be surprised if most of the Councillors would be heading there. "And we're certainly in agreement about what we all disagree about, if that counts as progress."

Korrin laughs weakly at that, shrugging. "Sure, why not? Nothing quite compares to the disaster of that first meeting, so my standards aren't terribly high right now. As long as the Loyalists think twice about attempting to trample all over me and my freedom, I'll take what I can get."

She sighs, though, hating that her standards have fallen so low and that she got ensared in politics in the first place. "Well, I'm suggesting it now for the two of us. Let me buy you a round before I'm off to Emprise du Lion for a while and hence free of this." Unless they get the brilliant/awful idea to do sending crystal meetings, but Korrin refuses to be the one to suggest that.

"No one has run each other out of Skyhold yet," Sabriel points out. "That's something." Unless scouting missions count for extended recess, but it could be worse. You could be branded a traitor and end up on the run through Orlais. Could be worse. "Talking is what we need, though, or else we'll never understand one another. As long as no hard and fast decisions are made, I think all the Councillors are wise enough not to do anything hasty."

She considers the offer, because tavern going is usually not what she does with her time. To most, she would say no, or go, but not drink, but for Korrin... "I wouldn't say no to wine to celebrate your impending freedom."

"Wine, it is. Don't worry, I don't pressure you to drink any of that care package I received. Most of it's gone by now, anyway, though that's not my doing. I guess people were really eager to prove how much of that they could handle, or they just wanted to punish themselves." Either way, whatever's left is for Taas and Kas, who ought to be able to handle it.

"And good, I know we haven't had much time to catch up since the mire. I've wanted to fix that." Yes, it's her not-subtle way of asking how Sabriel's doing after what happened there. She's tried to give her space, but maybe now in better surroundings, a little prodding will be alright.

"I doubt I could tolerate it. A sip to be polite, if necessary, but otherwise?" She's never been one to drink, not even now, and never in excess. There was this one time in the Circle where she and her fellow apprentices did find that bottle of... she can't even remember what, but what she did know was that she never wanted to be so not in control of herself ever again.

Ah, yes, the mire. To the point as always. "Skyhold is a preferable surrounding. Just the usual to contend with, rather than the dead..." she pauses. "I'm fine enough, I think."

"Nah, you don't just 'sip' that stuff. It'll ambush you anyway, that's what it's made for." Qunari liquor is not about relaxation and savoring, it's a test in endurance, and bragging rights afterward. At least that's all Korrin's ever seen from it.

And yes, she's as blunt as ever. Her gaze lingers on Sabriel as they walk, not openly doubting her claim but still wanting to give her a chance to expand on that. "Getting out of that mess had to help, but I know it can stick with you, too. I'm fine with distracting, if that's what you need, but you don't have to feel like you can't talk about it either."

Sabriel walks in silence a few steps. She is, for all intents and purposes, fine, but she considers past it, at least, in this moment.

It's not that she doesn't not want to talk about it, because she would if she must. But perhaps that was it; must. She was not in the mire anymore, and so it did not have to effect her, and she had compartmentalised the memory. Pushed it away to the corner of her mind where she would pick it apart and think it over another time, or it troubled her when she was meant to be sleeping, because that was how she stayed strong, remained self-sufficient, kept going forward. It was something she had done ever sine she took her first steps out of the tower to become the Warden she had been told she would be.

Sabriel exhales. "Right now it does not hurt," she allows. "If I need to, I will. I know you will always listen, Korrin. You always have, even when we were children."

That brings out a small, wry smile from Korrin. "You could always get that out of me, no matter how little I listened to anyone else. I'd like to think I've gotten better, though how much is up for debate." Stubborn is still a defining trait, as seen in those meetings. But there are times when even Daylen has said something worth thinking over, though not often.

"You still look tired, though. It's still the Calling, isn't it? I've been talking to Adelaide about a mixture that might help the Grey Wardens rest more deeply. Can't say how well it'll work, but it could be worth trying."

"Friends bring out the best in one another," Sabriel says, fondly. Though she quietly admits there would be times when it would be nice if she wasn't so invested in listening and could bluntly refuse an idea as Korrin would and did. Or when arguments became circular and she had to calmly try to unpick it, again.

"It is," she agrees, with another sigh, running a hand over her forehead. "Sometimes I feel the last time I truly slept was in the tower. Everything else is the song, or the nightmares." Or talking with Zevran. Tea. Practicing. Distractions that were too many to list. "If Adelaide had any suggestions, I would welcome them, as would the others. We're often the last to retire yet the first to rise."

Korrin's expressions softens, wishing she could take that burden from Sabriel, at least for a few nights. It may be a life she had chosen, but still...no one expected its end to signal so soon. She forces herself not to say that, though, not wanting to further burden her friend.

"Do the senior Wardens have any helpful advice on either? As much as all this is unexpected, I'd think they would have been told more on those subjects." Or not, but Korrin can't quite conceive of the level of secrecy required within the order itself.

voices disappear when you were speaking in somber tunes; | ota

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