Player Plot: The Arlathvhen

[writteninblood]

WHO: A big pack of elfs
WHAT: The Arlathvhen
WHEN: Vaguely Solace
WHERE: A Secret Elven Location
NOTES: OOC Plotting post here, and a special thanks to Ema for the header image

In the ordinary course of life, Dalish clans rarely encounter each other. This isolation is a protection; their diaspora is as much of a blessing as is a curse. Only once every decade or so do the Dalish clans all meet together, and their Keepers, the elders and leaders of the People, who are responsible in keeping elven lore and magic alive, will meet together and exchange knowledge in a meeting called the Arlathvhen. During such a time, the clans will recall and record any lore they have relearned since the past meeting, they will exchange goods, people, knowledge, news, and culture, along with reiterating what lore they know already to keep their traditions as accurate and alive as possible.


Today is the day.

Comments

[writteninblood]

Sorrel gives him a few minutes, just long enough to actually get acquainted with his meal, before he starts in. That, he did learn from his mother.

"You know, I've been wondering.... Why are you here?" He says it, not unkindly, but with an attempt at honest curiosity, "I'm not saying you don't have the right. But I'm surprised."

[dirth]

Solas pauses, focussing on his food before he musters up a reply. It doesn't surprise him that he's being questioned - Sorrel would unlikely be the last to ask him why - but he doesn't feel as though he has to explain himself. He is an elf, he was invited, he came. That is the simple answer.

"I cannot correct the Dalish if I do not know what they have learned." His voice is low, careful, measured. "Perhaps they have discovered something I can aid them on, or help give them information they did not have before. New discoveries are always happening and this is the only time the Dalish have to share them before they spread once more."

[writteninblood]

"Really? That's the only reason you're here, at—" He stopped, shook his head with a smile, to show that he meant well, if not at the ridiculousness of it, "At the great ten-year confluence of the People? Because somebody might be wrong in the woods, and you can't wait to correct them?"

Forgive his verbal eyeroll, it's just that he is himself, and therefore cannot resist it. Honestly, Solas.

"Why, though? Seriously, why should they even care? And why do you? You didn't before. When I made you exactly that offer last time we talked, you practically spat it back in my face."

[dirth]

"No," Solas says, voice unwavering, unchanging. He does not expect to be understood. "I am here because there might be something discovered, something found, that is confusing, misleading, and I might carry the answers to it. Not all Dalish are as ignorant as some and I would be glad to share my knowledge with those that are willing to listen."

Solas is well aware that he has that knowledge, more than any Dalish could ever possibly hope to obtain. He does not need to be scolded by someone much, much younger than he is. Shifting, he shakes his head.

"You offered to teach me about the Dalish, on the assumption that I knew very little of them. I have no desire to learn about incorrect mythologies I am already well versed in."

[writteninblood]

"See, there's where you're the one doing the assuming," Sorrel sobered, lips thinning bitterly in his smile. Incorrect mythologies. Well, that was certainly a most educated way in which to insult a man's Faith, he was sure. Sorrel wondered whether it was worse that Solas didn't realize how rude he was being, or that he did and thought Sorrel wouldn't recognize it, "As you say, I didn't ask if you wanted to learn about any myths; whatever you think about the Creators, the Dalish are very real. But since you're apparently not interested in politics, could you please at least wait another day or three before marching up the hill and into the Keeper's Gathering?"

He gestured in the general direction of the glade where the Keepers and other mages had been holding their meetings, the ruin choked in green, ancient bones slowly re-enrobed in life of a different kind than their original intent. It wasn't visible there, screened by the trees and the aravels and the woodsmoke, but the hill upon which it lay was obvious even so.

"You might or might not realize it, but whatever you have to say, is probably going to reflect back on me. If it's all the same to you, I'd appreciate it if I didn't have to bear the consequences for your corrections."

[dirth]

"I do not think. I know." Solas shifts, putting the food he was given to one side. Suddenly, he has very little appetite. It seems very strange to him to be sought out, to be given food and to be given a lecture about his behaviour when he has done nothing to warrant it. He has sat and he has listened, he has only spoken to those who have approached him and he has done nothing that might offend the Inquisition nor any of the Dalish that he might be with. It might come as surprise to some, but he carries a great deal of respect for some of the Dalish that are present currently.

"You imagine me to be some kind of monster, here to spoil a celebration of the Dalish culture. You think that I would waltz into the Keeper's Gathering and speak to them as though I had any place to be there. You think me some careles outsider who does not care about the Dalish at all, and you come to lecture me as though I am some irresponsible child under your thumb. I am none of those things, and I do not take kindly to the assumption."

Slowly, he shifts, pushing himself to his feet.

"I am not your responsibility, nor am I leashed to you. I did not ask for your kindness nor did I expect it. I have done nothing to warrant a scolding from someone who knows little of me and expects even less. Nothing will reflect upon you because I have done nothing to harm, hinder or harass any that have come to this gathering."

It's about what he expected from the Dalish, he thinks to himself, but there's no need to say it. He thinks that Sorrel has the message quite clearly now, and Solas does not intend to sit, idle and foolish, while he is insulted and punished for sins he has not committed.

"Enjoy the rest of your time at the gathering. Goodbye." And he turns, content to leave Sorrel behind in his place and, perhaps, seek out someone who can soothe his rattled nerves.

[writteninblood]

"I do not think you're a monster!"

Sorrel stands when Solas does, tense, rigid with offense. But he started this and he's going to see it through. He takes a breath, and tries to remember— he had a reason for starting this, dammit.

"But whether you like it or not, my bringing you here does make you my responsibility. Everything you do, every word you say, will come back on my head, because I'm the fool who led you here. I'm the one who let you in, who invited you, you..you..." He takes a deep breath, "You might not be a monster, but then you might just be an ass. I've done nothing to you!"

He takes a step, trying to be heard, to at least... he had such good intentions, and as usual it's all gone to shit. It's no wonder he has no friends, and that his family doesn't want him, except for his blood— save one.

"I know I'm not much better than an ass, but I am trying to be your friend, dammit. I don't mean to scold I want to..." He stops. No, of course, why would it ever work, "...Nevermind. I just don't know why you do anything. I ask, and you won't tell me, when I offer my own answers in trade you insult me, and I don't know how help. You were the only one who even tried to— I just want to understand you!"

[dirth]

"And yet you accuse me of causing embarrassment when I have done nothing to merit it?"

Solas is aware of his reputation; he is no fool. He knows that the Dalish consider him something of a flat ear, some foolish man that does not have the wisdom he preaches, that comes to them basking in knowledge that he holds above their heads. It is their foolishness that does not allow them to see that he would give it freely, if asked; that he could tell them the stories of their ancestors in great and wonderful glory, to offer them the details they so crave.

"You come to me, Sorrel Ashara, and warn me that I ought to do nothing to embarrass you. You question my being here and reject my answer. You question why I care and then decide that my reasons are only to correct those I speak to? The Dalish are not the People and they never will be. I am not here to speak to anyone who does not wish to listen, and that has never been the case. You say that you have done nothing to me, but you have done no less than offend me each time I have offered you any response."

Questioning why he cares, as if Solas does not so clearly love the elves. Asking him why he is here, as if somehow he should be denied the right. Implying that he would break tradition and law by marching into the Keeper's Gathering and disrupt whatever they might be sharing with one another. What rattles Solas the most is the idea that, somehow, he is a reflection of Sorrel, that somehow he would do something to offend.

All he has done since his arrival is sit, listen and watch those who would allow him the chance. He has spoken to no one who did not wish to listen to him and done nothing, nothing at all, to inspire ire or ill thought. If, perhaps, he had been too forward, too demanding in his desire to share knowledge then he might have more understanding, but the truth is that he does not. He is offended, sharply so, and frustrated at the implication that he is answerable to a Dalish who is so clearly oblivious to what Solas desires for his people.

"If this is the friendship you seek to offer me then, please. I do not wish to keep it. I appreciate the gesture and the kindness of food given, but I think that, perhaps, it is best we avoid one another for the rest of the Arlathvhen."

[writteninblood]

"I asked because I wanted to know! All you've told me is that you want to correct..."

He clamps his jaw shut then. What use, shouting at wolves. Sorrel nods once, sharply, and takes a step back. Fine then. Fine. He's failed. What else is new, but that Sorrelean Ashara should be a failure. He blinks twice, eyes bright, then looks away.

"...As you like it, then. I'm sorry."