faderift | i was left to my own devices

WHO: Merrill, open
WHAT: Keeping oneself busy with an aravel.
WHEN: During all this Tevinter nonsense.
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: Decorating.

How Merrill had convinced the ferrymen to allow her aravel onto the boat and across to the Gallows was uncertain; if asked, Merrill would insist that she had just asked, while the ferryman would turn a bit red and mumble something about eyelashes. Either way, it was certainly there - drawn by a horse instead of halla and with a mutt of a dog inside of it instead of other elves, but an aravel nonetheless. Merrill had directed both her horse - a massive thing, clearly some sort of war horse that a tiny Dalish mage had no business riding but did anyway - and the aravel itself to the stables, parking it outside.

Travel had taken its toll on the aravel. Obvious repairs had been made, but they were travel repairs; patched sails and different pieces of wood. Now that she had a relatively safe place to settle and access to all sorts of supplies, Merrill could repair it a bit more properly. The elf could be seen at all hours of the day working on new knots, fetching bits of wood, or looking over cloth for new sails. She had things to trade, too; herbs and stone found in her travels, skins of deer and rabbits, and trinkets that had most likely been taken out of the pockets of bandits unlucky enough to target her. The back and forth was near constant, but Merrill treated each trip and trade with a smile. She even hummed as she did her work.

No aravel, in Merrill's mind, was complete without decoration. Pieces of wood were delicately cradled as she carved images of the wilds, of bears and halla and flowers. She was not as skilled with the sails, but that didn't stop her from trying to thread bits of color into them, green chief among them. Perhaps the most striking, however, were the feathers. Feathers of songbirds, bright red and yellow and blue; feathers of eagles, patterned and large; and feathers of the griffon, white and striking and Merrill's favorite. They were braided into the ropes, tied to the wood. Merrill would trade the feathers she didn't want or need, would go and groom the griffon that allowed her to ride him and bring back what fell.

She was busy, and it was good, and it didn't at all make her worry any less about those in Tevinter.

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There's no massive horse, this time, though her little dog is still with her. Merrill has been settling in, but there's not quite as much room in the stables for repairing her aravel and she doesn't dare bring it to the alienage. Right now, the Gallows is the best place to work, and Merrill does it happily.

That it means she's meeting people is only a bonus, as far as she's concerned. For all Iorveth is slightly sheepish, she only smiles, not stopping her mutt from coming forward to sniff at his feet.

"Under normal circumstances, no Dalish would bring them even close to a human city," Merrill says, even as she puts her supplies down. The fabric is separated from anything that might damage it, dog included. "But my life hasn't been normal since- oh, the fifth Blight or so."

She laughs a little, though it's definitely there to mask the pain of great loss.

"In any case- andaran atish'an. If you'd like to look, feel free - and don't mind Barkley, he's very friendly."

Merrill greets him with kindness and sunshine, and Iorveth reflects her smile back. She's one of the few Dalish to be so openly accepting of him, being a Rifter, regardless of how Elven a Rifter he is. It's refreshing.

"Barkley." He chuckles, crouching down to hold out his palms for the pup to sniff at. "How very appropriate a name."

It's pretty adorable. If the dog decides Iorveth checks out, he'll give him some ear scratches and petting. Good puppy.

But he's interested in how Merrill mentions she's an unusual case, and Iorveth had met plenty Dalish at Arlathvhen that he doubts would let something so key to their culture into a human city. There must be more to that story.

"How is it you find yourself in a changed position now? Even the Dalish within the Inquisition don't keep aravels here."

"I thought so!"

Barkley is happy to sniff the offered palms and then more or less headbutt into them. He is quite happy to get ear scratches and pets, tongue lolling out as he pants.

"I left my clan." It's said simply, as though it wasn't truly difficult - but it was, and she pauses after she says it to take a deep breath, to steady herself. "It's... we had a disagreement. I was either going to have to stop trying to recover something from our past or I was going to have to leave- so I left. Most of the Dalish outside the Inquisition don't consider me Dalish anymore, especially after my clan ended up trying to kill me."

You know, family stuff.

"So it's not like I've got a clan that can watch the aravel for me. When we were at Skyhold, I lived in it outside the castle; I liked it better than being around everyone. When I left Kirkwall, it seemed more prudent to bring it with - and now that I'm back, it'd be safer here than in the alienage."

Humans like to burn elf property, after all.

Yes, humans do like to burn elf property, and elves themselves. And then they get really upset when elves burn them back??? A quandary Iorveth is still trying to puzzle through. ANYWHO.

This dog is Iorveth's new best friend, it is decided.

Merrill's story, though, drags a frown from him, Iorveth rolling it around in his head as he listens.

"It must have been something considerable, if you were forced out for it. Or are Dalish always so quick to abandon their own?" Which is beyond bizarre for Iorveth, from a people who'd become so fractured and crushed down that any reaching out for them was met with hands pulling them in. But, there's still much about Thedas that Iorveth doesn't understand.

"You're wise in that — nothing is safe in the alienage." Not the property, not the people, nothing. Still, Iorveth's glad to have his home there now, for that reason exactly. Should a human decide they want to have some fun with the elves stuck there, he's much less concerned about consequences for opening that human's throat than the others may be.

And, he does have the relative certainty that Beleth would stand up for him in such a case.

"It depends on the clan," Merrill says after a moment, sighing softly. At least Barkley is happy. "In my case... the artifact was considered dangerous because it had been corrupted. In its true form it isn't, unless it's used for something dangerous - but while it was tainted, a member of my clan came across it in a ruin. We never saw him again."

But was fear enough of a reason not to pursue their history? Merrill hadn't thought so. Of course, there was also the part where she had gotten help from a spirit, but- maybe better not to readily bring that up.

She nods, silently agreeing with Iorveth's assessment of the alienage. "I left Kirkwall after the Inquisition moved back here for a while, to check on some of the alienages we had passed through." Among other things, including getting hopelessly lost for a while. "If you haven't been to the others... they're not much better. Or they're worse."

It's good to have Beleth in your corner. Merrill, likewise, isn't afraid of electrocuting anyone who comes near the elves in the alienage.

i was left to my own devices

sorry about the delay!!

ahhh mine too mine too ;;;;

<3!

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