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faderift2018-06-15 08:17 pm
player plot: who's a heretic now?
thunderproof), Gwenaëlle (elegiaque), Iorveth (aensidhe), Kostos (exequy or exsecutus why do you and cee hate me, mj), Nari (nadasharillen), Solas (dirth)WHAT: Temple of Falon'din
WHEN: Now
WHERE: Northern Orlais
NOTES: CW suicidal ideation, blood, general creepiness. If anything else comes up I'll edit, and if there's a CW you can think of while reading that I didn't include, lmk and I'll add it!
The ruins look, on the surface, much like any other Elven ruins might — crumbling stone structures overrun by plant life, chipped mosaics and tiled floors almost entirely hidden by centuries of overgrown underbrush. A quick investigation reveals nothing of note; this temple, it seems, had been picked over many times throughout the centuries, and anything of note has already been taken. The venture seems to have been pointless, at least for a few minutes.
Until someone stumbles upon a hidden stairwell, camouflaged in the underbrush and a secret to the original temple besides. It's a long journey down, lit only by magelight and the torches of the Inquisition, but as soon as the first foot steps down onto even ground, the Fade-green flickering of veilfire lights up a massive antechamber. The veil pricks at the skin, here, warping perception and sensation for those sensitive to its fluctuations, and embuing the whole room with a sense of foreboding solemnity for those who aren't. An eerie silence broken only by the sound of flowing water, and the musty scent of stale air make it clear: this place, whatever it is, hasn't been seen in centuries, if not millennia.
At the foot of the stairs is a landing butting up to a moat of dark liquid, fed by a pool set into a dais in the middle of the chamber. The pool itself burbles quietly, a waterfall spilling into it from the two cupped hands of a massive elven statue. The only way to reach the dais is to ford the river, but as soon as the party approaches, it becomes clear — the dark liquid within is not water, but blood, still fresh despite the millennia of abandonment.
On the journey to the temple, Solas told a story of Falon'Din, and the words seem more apt than they perhaps had at the time, given the weight of myth rather than truth:
It is said Falon'Din's appetite for adulation was so great, he began wars to amass more worshippers. The blood of those who wouldn't bow low filled lakes as wide as oceans.
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❰ which adalia only very barely manages not to make sound like a whine. ❱
But there is a subject you have more to say about?
❰ there is always a subject gwen has an opinion on, but if there is one in specific at the moment adalia would sure love to hear about it. ❱
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( she pushes her hair from her eyes (a trim is in order, probably, if she does it frequently enough then thranduil will barely notice the difference—the trace of a frown at the thought is less significant, when that's been most of what her face has done this whole trip), shaking her head: )
Don't feel obliged to manage me.
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"Concern for a friend" is not "managing" you, fuck off. I don't feel obliged to do anything with you, I like you.
❰ and fuck you very much for saying otherwise, frankly. ❱
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( that feels like it might have been a trap. also, like maybe gwenaëlle is really difficult to like sometimes. )
Unless there was something you wanted to talk about.
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I was surprised you wanted to come. Even more surprised Thranduil didn't contact me to tell me to take care of you, I wouldn't have thought he considered me that reliable. What does he think of the mission?
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but it doesn't even need to be, because what she says, very direct— )
He has absolutely no fucking idea where I am.
( —speaks for itself. )
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As one who's never been married, maybe I don't know... anything, really, about marriage, and definitely not yours specifically, but it seems a bad idea to do things the other party is not aware of.
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( she is not keeping her voice down. )
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He did what? After all the fucking work we've all been going to to not have them made, he — that absolute fuck!
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( very neatly, contained, the small and tight way a fist curls when it has not yet decided where it will land, )
I didn't feel like being in Kirkwall. Just at that particular moment. Let him see how he likes it when one of us makes stupid unilateral choices.
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Short-sighted, lying, egotistical motherfucker. What does he plan to do with it? Nothing you'd approve of, or he'd have told you. He should have fucking told you, maybe he wouldn't have made such a fucking moronic, asshole decision!
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I will deal with it when I get back.
( she doesn't know what that looks like, yet. she hadn't said anything—hadn't been able to say anything, furious past words, she'd barely heard most of what he said. if there was an explanation, and oh, she's sure he has a great deal to say on the matter, that will have to wait. because she is here, and he is there, and
she still doesn't know what she's going to say. it all feels very obvious and insufficient; more than anything, she's angry about having it presented to her fait accompli. that can't be what the rest of their lives look like, thranduil making decisions about their trajectory and expecting her to hop to.
and she hadn't been worried about that. she'd trusted him.
they'd been on such unsteady ground— )
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❰ because that is the clear solution to this problem and the only way to deal with it. it will be a problem for more people than just gwen and thranduil — who apparently has no amount of foresight, despite being thousands of years old, and thinks he can just do things — and adalia, for one, is not willing to find out what it will mean to templars that phylacteries for rifters are a confirmed possibility. ❱
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( she might even consider hearing him out, by then, but the matter of the phylacteries is not a new argument between them—not for no reason did he keep it from her while he did it, did he know perfectly fucking well that she was going to be angry when he told her—and she suspects she can guess some of his arguments. reasoning.
it's infuriating. it's a great deal. )
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❰ adalia maybe wouldn't be so pushy if she'd had an opportunity to think about this, rather than being surprised by it out in the open far away from any opportunity to do anything or talk to anyone else about it. at least she'd consider that gwenaëlle will talk to thranduil whenever they make up, which they will, and her opinions will surely come up. but gwenaëlle is not the only person superbly angry about this, and adalia isn't quite thinking anything through as much as she probably should be. ❱
He put the both of you in danger, not to even speak of what this means for every other rifter he didn't fucking consult. You can't let him just do this.
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I no more have to do what you tell me than I had to fall in line with what he had to say. You've more than adequately expressed yourself. Are you done?
( because she is. )
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❰ get over yourself is more akin to what adalia would say if gwen weren't herself, but she's angry, not stupid. some things can be apologized for, some can't.
one day, she won't have the emotional wherewithal to allow gwenaëlle to dismiss her so summarily. for now, she walks back to her own pack, sits, and goes back to working on more grenades. ❱
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gwenaëlle stalks off for the tent she's sharing with iorveth, and will not emerge until travel necessitates it. )