faderift | { CLOSED }

Entry tags:

{ CLOSED }

WHO: Christine + closed threads for Church, Dolores, and Prompto
WHAT: random stuff and a trip to Orlais
WHEN: from August 15th onward
WHERE: Kirkwall

{ church }
Now that agents are returning from Tevinter, Christine feels able to go on her secret mission to scout out routes in Orlais for those working on a cure for Tranquility. But this mission isn't her only reason to visit the land of her birth. On the way back, she'll be stopping to pick up her mother and mother's maidservant to bring them back to Kirkwall. With the enemy growing so bold as to attack Orlais and Tevinter, Christine wants the only family she has left close by.

Of course, plans need to be put in place, and as she paces back and forth in their apartment, Church should be able to hear Christine muttering her plans under her breath as she sorts through different letters.

"The wagon will need to arrive in Verchiel by the 30th, then change horses, then Halamshiral by the 4th. Is that enough time?" She's asking herself this as she shuffles a letter behind another. "Ship out of Jader on the 9th. Hmm." Stopping in place, her shoulders sag with the weight of all these plans. If her mother delays them even once, she might just lose it and leave her on the side of the road.

(She wouldn't, but it would be tempting.)

{ dolores }
With all the planning recently, Christine hasn't had much time to stop and breathe. Leaving her office, she decides to take her lunch outside in an effort to clear her mind. Once she finds a quiet, scenic spot overlooking the water, she starts eating her meal of fruit and bread, but quickly notices a woman nearby taking advantage of the view of the city built into the mountains to paint. She smiles faintly, wishing she had the talent to capture what she sees with her eye onto a canvas. The city wouldn't be her idea of a good scenery painting, as even after the removal of the slave statues it still has imposing architecture. This place has been her home for over a year now, but it isn't a homey home. It's where she must be to do her duty to the Inquisition. At least someone else can look at the city and find inspiration in it.

"Do you often paint?" she asks out of the blue.

{ prompto }
The trip to Orlais is quiet and uneventful, just the way Christine wants it. Though people are more tight lipped in Val Royeaux and Christine worries she hasn't obtained enough information there, the Nahashin Marshes is different. It's easy enough to get these rural, isolated Orlesians talking about their local cart paths and trails, and some are more than happy to draw maps for Christine. She likes to think the fact she herself is Orlesian helps, but she can't say for sure that they wouldn't do this for anyone who comes through. After that, it's a quick skim around the outskirts of the Western Approach, which Christine is familiar with from having been stationed there during the Inquisition's ill-fated trip into the Fade. Marking the most expedient routes in is easy, and now she and Prompto are on their way to the Heartlands of Orlais, where their wagon will pick up Christine's mother and servant, bringing them to Kirkwall. As the wagon rocks back and forth on the road there, Christine and Prompto sit in the back while the driver hums a little tune to himself. She looks out at the countryside, sighing.

"It is hard to believe the north of the country is being invaded right now when everything looks so peaceful here."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She's been worried sick. Making plans. Always with the letters and notes. He can't blame her; it's her homeland that's slowly getting invaded by assholes under the control of the same kind of evil they're meant to destroy. Or...something like that.

Church curls an arm around her waist, a mug of something distantly refreshing in his other hand. "Not planning a trip without me, are you?"

Drawn from her overlapping thoughts, she glances up and smiles faintly. Perhaps it would be best to take a break from all this before she goes in too many circles and makes a mistake.

"If only we could get away for a little while. The Tourney was a nice break, but if it could just be the two of us..." Christine trails off, imagining how relaxing that would be. No worries about war, or rifts, or any of it. But duty calls, and they must answer.

"No, this is me deciding on something that I cannot delay. I am bringing my mother to Kirkwall."

A honeymoon without the marriage part, he can get behind that. And he's even about to suggest it until she drops the bomb. He frowns, and it's even apparent in his voice. "Here? Are you...sure this is the safest place for her?"

Christine's mother had not exactly liked Church. It's always the in-laws, isn't it? "I mean it'd be...safer than where she is, but uh...she probably wouldn't like it here. Too messy."

"It's where I can keep my eye on her. Right now I must rely on letters to know how she is doing, and that takes nearly a week to arrive. By then, anything could have happened." With a sigh, she sets her papers aside and wraps her arms around him.

"I know she will not like it, but I feel I can protect her better here than my uncle can there." There's a brief pause before she realizes something and adds, "Don't worry. She will not be living with us. I have found an apartment a few streets away, for her and Darcia. She will hate it, and expect to live in Hightown, but it is what she can afford with what little she has left, and I will be sharing the rent payments too."

He's not about to suggest just leaving here there. Obviously. But having the mother-in-law living so close? Nightmare scenario. "Are you good for that, helping pay her way? Are we gonna be okay? Should we cut back on anything? Also, she's not allowed to visit without saying she's gonna drop by first, cuz we don't need her catching us in flagrante delicto."

"We will be all right. I have done some bookkeeping and sorted it all out." Her gaze lifts to the ceiling for a moment. "I simply have to cut back on luxuries. No new clothes, home wares, that sort of thing. But we will still have the same food we always have."

All in all, she thinks it's worth it to finally have an in person relationship with her mother. No, she's not the easiest person to deal with, but she's family.

Giving Church a playful pinch on his side, she says, "Have you forgotten how weak my mother's legs are? I highly doubt she would be able to walk even a few streets over."

"But I can totally see her in a wheelchair, determined to come over and tell you everything you're doing wrong with your life. Oh my god." He has to stop and consider it. "Does she...know how the duel ended? Does she know Sir Talksalot had to run away in shame and I totally beat him definitely fair and square?"

Christine's lips purse in thought, because her mother does have a wheelchair that she has Darcia push her around in. Does that mean she'll be stopping by unannounced? Christine certainly hopes not. Things would be less stressful if she could control when she sees her mother, instead of having it come unexpectedly.

"Yes, she knows. I wrote her afterwards and told her the whole story, since I was sure he would twist things. I told her not to interfere with matters concerning myself and marriage ever again." The question is: how determined can her mother be? How persistent? If Christine inherited even a little bit of her determination from her, there may be some frustrations in their future.

"I doubt she'll give up. But on the upside, there's no way she's gonna find someone she deems acceptable in Kirkwall."

Maybe he'll have to try and make nice with her. Since obviously Christine isn't going to settle down with some nice fancy chevalier. Nope, stuck with a rude Rifter and just gotta deal with it.

Church presses a kiss to her cheek. "Need my help with anything, or should I just steer clear while you do your thing?" Christine on a mission does not need him mucking up the works if he can help it.

"My mother's idea of acceptable is, quite frankly, absurd." A man more in love with himself than he ever could be with anyone else, who has had no idea what it's like to be different, or to struggle, or any of it.

"Hm, let's see." Being a perfectionist as she is, she wants to have full control over every aspect of this trip, but she's also had her nose buried in these papers for too long. She may have made a mistake and doesn't realize it.

"I have my schedule written out. The travel times are estimates. Would you look over it and tell me if you think it sounds reasonable?" She hands him a piece of paper written out in her neat handwriting, detailing dates for land and sea travel. It turns out she'll be traveling quite a distance in Orlais, as she has to scout out areas for those collecting items to hopefully reverse Tranquility. But since that's still a secret, she has it written as Scouting Mission. Then comes the dates corresponding to picking up her mother, her maid, and some of her belongings. Just what can fit in one wagon. The final date is for a ship out of Jader that will be going directly to Kirkwall.

He's lived here long enough and studied enough maps that he actually has a pretty good handle on how long a journey should take over distances. He surprises himself sometimes. Reluctantly, he lets go of her so he can take the page, humming thoughtfully while sipping his drink.

"You might be cutting it a little close, especially if you encounter weather along the way or something that holds you up while scouting. But it's definitely doable." He swirls his mug. "Do we know how quickly the Anders forces are advancing? There's no way that'll be a problem for moving her, I just wanna make sure you're gonna be okay while you're out."

"That was my worry. The weather can be so unpredictable." She laces her fingers together and props them under her chin. It irks her that she doesn't have complete control over this trip. But there are very few things in life she can have control over anyway. It's simply in her nature to want it.

"Yes, the latest news is they have pushed forward and are close to laying siege to Churneau." Her hands drop and she looks around their apartment. Church has often brought home books to study the rifts or other matters. Perhaps he has a map stashed away somewhere.

"Do we have a map? I can show you the town on it. The Nahashin Marshes cover a good area, and come close to the town, but I will be sure to not venture too far north through them."

"Map, no problem. It's, uh, I've got one somewhere..."

Hold for a moment while he tries to find said map while also dancing around a smol doggo. "Under those books. No no, to the left. Yeah, it hasn't been updated in a while, but I mean, I'm not exactly a scout, so it's as updated as it's gonna be until we invent satellites and GPS." He helps unfold it across the dining table, smoothing it out.

"You think maybe you'll need some backup? In case something happens?"

"I take it those are helpful in map making?" she asks, setting a nearby book on one corner to keep the map from sliding around on the table. Church's references rarely bother her, since she can often infer what he means even if the wording is unfamiliar.

"Oh, I meant to tell you: Prompto has agreed to assist me. I do feel better knowing I won't be alone for the first part of the trip." Now she points to the town in question, then taps the marshes just to the southwest of it. "But I will be approaching the marshes from Val Royeaux, and will be entering the southern part here. That is still a distance away from the Anders' forces."

"Incredibly, but you're gonna need a lot more technology to get anywhere close to that." He's definitely glad she doesn't tend to ask for specifics anymore. It's just a Church thing. One of his adorable quirks of being a Rifter from a space age future.

"Okay, so, and because they're marshes, they aren't likely to march in that anyway. It'd slow them down way too much, and if they can start taking the Highway, they'll have a pathway for supplies and men and also the literal high road. To even sweep the marshes as a precaution would take a lot of time and manpower they can't afford for what might be a wild goose chase to pick out a couple people that may or may not flee that way." And after another moment of thought: "Prompto's a good kid. You'll be in good hands. But don't hesitate to call on your he-man boyfriend for help if you need it."

Christine nods thoughtfully, having not considered the logistics of traversing a marsh for an army heading south. She lifts her gaze to him as he speaks, a proud smile coming to her lips.

"You are quite the tactician. It makes sense. I will be safe on my planned path." Moving to lean her weight into his side, she adds, "And if I were not safe, you could find me with my phylactery."

"Naaah," he says, a little proud, a little sheepish, and fully willing to throw an arm around her and hug her close. "Just, y'know, soldiers gotta think like soldiers. And it's south enough that I don't see a reason for them to divert any effort that way anyway. Not really any on the map cities to go after. What specifically are you scouting for out there, anyway?"

It's not like her to hide things from him, but this Tranquility cure thing is currently so hush hush that there can't be any leaks. He'd never do it on purpose, but she knows how his mouth runs ahead of his head. Once everything's out in the open (if it ever is), then she'll tell him the small role she played.

"For clear paths that small parties will be going to soon. I believe they are searching the marshes for a useful ingredient in poisons and the Western Approach for rift activity there."

He nods. "If they find any, I'll be sure to sign up to help close 'em." Because that's something else he knows he's good at. Closing rifts, fighting demons with nothing more than a sword and magic shield. Helping. Everyone in Tevinter, doing whatever the fuck they're doing in Tevinter, he can't help with that. The situation's too delicate; he doesn't know enough. Is not delicate. But he can be a soldier.

"If something goes wrong, y'know, with her--I mean like transporting her, not like with her--then I'll lend a hand, too."

While she's unsure if there's any truth to the rift activity (she thinks the Western Approach part of this plan has to do with scouring Adamant Fortress again), it does make her smile to hear him volunteer so readily for rift closing duty. He's been here so long and has seen so much.

"There is no one better than you to greet new arrivals," she says. "Many Rifters speak as you do, or understand your references. I think it helps them a great deal, to meet someone who can explain things to them the way you do." As for the rest of what he says, she gives him a nod that says she understands. "You will have all my travel information here. I will make a copy. Should I call for you, you will know where to find us. But I am sure it will not be necessary. Not unless the weather is against us." Or her mother unexpectedly takes ill. A real illness, that is. Not one of her hypochondriac episodes.

"Unless I'm out on a mission somewhere, I'll be right here waiting. I'll even help unload her stuff and get her settled in so long as we don't have to talk to each other about how I'm not worthy to even look at her daughter much less anything else."

He will be polite around the in-law right up until the point that an exchange of words has to happen, then he's not sure he can keep any promises.

"I will make sure she is on her best behavior." Which is honestly something she can't control, but Lady knows she'll try. How does one deal with a persecution complex like her mother's? If she tells her mother to be civil to Church, will the woman start wailing about how ill-used she is?

Taking a moment to rub at the base of her skull where she feels a tension headache forming from all this, she then adds quietly: "I will feel better once I have her close by, but I fear what will come next. More land is being overrun in Orlais and with Corypheus openly claiming Minrathous, I worry there will be few safe havens left soon."

Christine needed - or maybe not needed but at least requested - a scout to come along with her, and Prompto was happy to oblige. If he's going to be stuck in Thedas for gods know how long, he might as well get to see as much of it as he can, and Orlais is a place he's unfamiliar with. His experience with the country has been its (in)famously backstabbing, thinly-veiled-threats-loving, mask-wearing nobles. This is the first time he's gotten to really meet any commoners, and their hospitality takes him by surprise. And their countryside leaves him in awe with its beauty. What he wouldn't give to have his camera right now.

Christine's quiet musing startles him out of his thoughts, but he quickly recovers with a smile and agreeing nod. "Yeah, you wouldn't know they were at war if you came here. I just hope it doesn't get any further than the north."

"As do I. Some would say we deserve it, for all the land Orlais has taken by force over the years. But this is not a war meant to end with a land grab. It is something far worse." Her voice is low as she speaks, not wanting to alert the carriage driver to anything amiss if he doesn't happen to be the sort to hear news from the north. The man continues to hum, but whether or not he's listening is unknown.

"But to go back to matters closer at hand, I am pleased we made so much progress. I feared the people in the marshes would dislike outsiders coming in, but it seems more like they are starved for new faces."

"No one deserves to face what those guys want to do." While he's not fond of Orlesian nobles, he wouldn't wish any of this on them. He only hopes they won't have to endure a Venatori occupation. But that's going to be up to the Orlesian army and the Inquisition.

Right. Back to happier things. "If I lived in a marsh, I'd be dying to see new people, too. We got a lot of good info from them, too."

"Yes. I'm glad we have helped future scouting or missions in the area. Though I cannot say I'm eager to return myself. A bit too wet for my tastes. And those horrible little insects buzzing around!" Christine makes a bit of a face before looking out over the landscape. Her expression soon changes as the winding path reveals a small town up ahead.

"Ah, this will be it, I believe." She confers with their driver and he tells them it is indeed their destination. Sitting back, Christine is a bundle of nerves. It's a worry that removing her mother from her uncle's house will be like herding a cat straight into a bathtub.

"Did I remember to tell you not to take anything my mother says to heart? Especially concerning you. She can be difficult."

"You and me both. I kind of hope they don't send me back there." He's making a similar face to hers as he says, "Nothing worse than wet socks and being bitten alive by mosquitoes." On his person he's sure are at least twenty bug bites, a few in places that make him wonder (in horror) how the bugs got in there to begin with.

Prompto can feel the nerves radiating off of her. She did, in fact, warn him about her mother. And while he's not entirely looking forward to the trip back with what sounds like a difficult woman, he'll do it for Christine's sake. "Don't you worry about me. I can take it."

Christine swears she can still hear the buzzing of their little wings and is worried a few are trapped within her hair. It's likely not true, but one can't say how clever they may be at hiding.

Once they enter the town, Christine directs their driver to the livery stable and carriage service, where she gets down and checks to see that the carriage she ordered for her mother weeks ago is ready for her. Once she confirms it is, she gets back into the wagon and they continue on to the house itself.

It's a typical middle class Orlesian house in a town of the same. A few people are looking with curiosity at the wagon coming through, but there are enough traders and travelers who pass through the town that Christine and Prompto aren't so odd a sight. Stopping in front of the house, Christine has barely left the wagon before the door opens and a round-faced, black haired young woman rushes out, cheeks pink with excitement.

"Oh, Mistress Christine! I knew you would be on time! Your mother worried so, but I told her you would be here on schedule!" She glances past Christine, a curious look on her face on seeing Prompto. "Oh, is... is Church not with you? That is-- I mean to say, your mother, um--"

"No, we felt it best he stay behind," Christine says quickly, realizing she probably should have told her mother that the man she'd tried to get rid of (with an alternate suitor for her daughter, no less) wasn't here to sass her. "This is my good friend Prompto. Prompto, this is my mother's maid and companion, Darcia." Darcia brightens visibly and drops a polite curtsy to him.

Prompto's used to be stared at, so much so that he barely notices anymore. Besides, he's more occupied staring at the house they've just pulled up to. It's a nice house; it's almost a shame to have to leave it behind, but it might not be safe here soon enough. Not if the Venatori make headway.

He keeps quiet until he's introduced. He hops off the wagon, offering Darcia a quick little bow. "Nice to meet you, ma'am. There anything I can help with?" It's a long way to travel, especially with an older woman in tow.

"Oh, well, there is a bit of furniture? Not much," she rushes to add, looking between Christine and Prompto. Darcia is a sweet young woman, with a very subservient personality no matter what. Christine smiles, gesturing to the wagon.

"All is well. We have the wagon for my Mother's things, and yours, and the carriage will be arriving soon as well."

Satisfied with that, Darcia nods and invites them inside. The home has an entry hall and staircase with doors leaving off to the opposite side of the stairs and the back of the house opposite the front door. Darcia passes a closed door and opens the next, where a woman who looks the spitting image of Christine, only older, is sitting in an armchair with a blanket over her legs.

"Oh, Titine!" the woman exclaims. "You have come at last! I told Darcia that you would not, but here you are!" She waves a handkerchief as she speaks and accepts a kiss on the cheek from her daughter before she notices Prompto and her eyes light up.

"Who is this? Hello, good sir! Are you with the Inquisition too? How do you know my daughter?" There is some vain hope in her heart that Christine is no longer with Church and has moved on to someone more suitable. He does look a little young, though. Oh well, as long as he's from a good family and has independent wealth, Aimee Delacroix will be his biggest supporter! Already she's picturing what flowers they'll have at her daughter's wedding.

Prompto follows them inside, glancing around and taking in the details of the house. But it's not long before he finds himself before Christine's mother, and there can be no doubt that they're related.

He starts a little when he's directly addressed, but he plasters on a smile and his usual cheer. "Prompto Argentum, ma'am. Nice to meet you." And already he's getting pelted with questions. Gods help him. "I met your daughter in the Inquisition. I'm a scout, and she asked me to come along on a mission, and also to help escort you back to Kirkwall."

Already her mother is seeing how Christine Argentum sounds in her head, but Christine can tell where this is going. Whenever her mother is overly nice, it usually means she's trying to match make.

"Yes, Prompto is a friend of mine, Maman, and of Church's as well." At the name, her mother's smile fades and she can't meet Christine's eyes. As much as the woman would wish to see the Rifter out of her daughter's life, it looks as though it won't happen.

"Now, I suppose you have everything packed and ready to go?" Christine continues. Darcia nods happily but her mother quickly interjects with "No," leaving Darcia looking confused.

"No, I have not! My brother is being impossible and not allowing me to take my bed! What is he going to need it for, I ask?"

Christine exhales loudly through her nose, and turns towards Darcia. "Prompto could help you carry your things to the wagon." It will give her the opportunity to set her mother straight about a few things without having to subject Prompto to it. He'll be in for enough during the ride back. Nodding along, Darcia hurries around the room, face tinged pink at someone helping her instead of the other way around.

"I have a trunk," she says shyly. "If it isn't too heavy, you could help lift one end?"

...oh. Oh, this is. Um. Awkward. Yeah, awkward. Prompto's no genius but even he can pick up on what's going on here. A part of him wants to mention how he likes Church and think he's a good guy, but that likely wouldn't go over well and might make Lady Delacroix dislike him. They have a long trip ahead of them. Instead, he opts for, "They've both been really good friends to me."

When he's asked to help carry the trunk, he knows it for what it is: an exit out of this uncomfortable atmosphere and the chance to help. And also probably to shoo him out of the room for whatever conversation Christine wants to have with her mother. Which, he's more than fine with complying with.

"Yeah, of course. These gu - er, arms are here for lifting." Let's not bring up guns, even if colloquially and have to explain what guns even are. "Lead the way. I'm at your beck and call."

"Merci!" Darcia says, gesturing to her trunk and lifting up one end. She doesn't appear to be struggling too much with what she's holding, and seems to have fair amount of strength to her, but it will be much easier with the help.

Once they're out of the room and moving towards the front door, Darcia speaks positively about the move. "It will be so nice to be close to Mistress Christine! I have only met her the one time, but Madame has spoken of her so much, I feel as though I know her. What is Kirkwall like? I have heard rumors, but I don't put much opinion into those."

Prompto's rather surprised with her strength. He expected to have to do most of the lifting himself, but she's holding up her end rather well. As he carefully steps after her, watching for any obstacles that might be in her path, he responds with, "Kirkwall's... interesting. It depends on where you are. Hightown is pretty safe and rather nice? Lots of shops are there and different people wandering around. If you go down to Lowtown and Darktown, though... well, that's kind of where Kirkwall's reputation kind of comes from."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

{ CLOSED }

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject