faderift | CLOSED | It's not your fault

WHO: Krem and Samwise
WHAT: Krem clears up some things after accidental misgendering
WHEN: Backdated, before leaving for Emprise du Lion
WHERE: the Herald's Rest
NOTES: Gender identity and dysphoria, takes place after this small debacle.

Really, he didn't expect the hobbit to show up after what had happened. He wouldn't blame Sam for avoiding him, he hadn't exactly reacted well to...well. Much of anything. But at least there had been an attempt to smooth it over on his part. But Sam had looked petrified of mis-stepping, and if there was one thing Krem found frustrating, it was people pussyfooting around him.

And, he liked Sam. Little guy was pretty alright. Perhaps a little skittish for what was happening around here, but he'd settle down in time. Maybe taking the time to drink with him would help.

So here he was, back in his armor, a layer of both physical and psychological protection, with a bottle in hand and a mug settled across from him of sweetened mulled cider. Sam would like that, right?

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Sam's grateful just that Krem hadn't pushed when he'd (almost) mentioned the Ring; he shouldn't discuss it, he knows, and he's eager to talk about just about anything else.

He looks up curiously when the Man starts talking, resolving to stay silent and just listen. There's no cause to apologize, but it's heartening to hear all the same. At least he knows that Krem still likes him, and wants to make sure his feelings aren't hurt.

"Not born into..." he repeats, and his voice trails off. It's a hard thing to fathom. Sam's body is something he'd always taken for granted, without a second thought. But he tries to imagine what he'd do if he woke up with a hobbit woman's body, or perhaps a dwarf's, and he frowns deeply. He's had enough people mistake him for a dwarf here already, and he doesn't even look like one (at least, it's easy enough for Sam to tell the difference). What would he do if he woke up all hairy and tall(er) and still had to somehow convince people that he was really a hobbit?

He looks at Krem, finally answering.

"Well, I've never heard of nothing like that," he says plainly. "But do you mean to say, if you don't mind me asking that is, that that's how it is with you? Why I never! I'm sorry, Mr. Krem. I can't imagine how queer it must feel. I didn't mean to put you on the spot, as it were, or make you unhappy. I only - I only wanted to, well, to do right by you, I suppose; but it seems I got it all wrong."

Krem raised his hands some in a placating gesture. "No harm done, I promise. I get people around here that look at me funny sometimes, least until they see me fight. Then I think they fear for their lives. Not that I've ever killed anyone for- not the point. The point is that it's alright, Sam. You're not the first to get it wrong, and I doubt you'll be the last for a while."

Now that it was a little calmer, Krem sat back again, kicking his heel up on the edge of his chair with his ale at his lips. That was about enough of the serious talk for now, now that he'd gotten out of the way what he needed to.

"Why not tell me a little about where you come from? Trade stories, some't like that."

Sam looks briefly worried, and then relaxes a bit at Krem's reassurances. He's glad the Man doesn't seem angry, at least, nor hurt, though he still feels a bit guilty.

"Trade stories?" he repeats thoughtfully. "Well, I'm not much of a storyteller, though I suppose I could give it a try. What would you like to hear about?"

Sam's face shows emotion like a picture book, and all Krem can really do is try to assuage his worry, ease his mind, and maybe distract him with happier thoughts.

"You'd mentioned places before that you'd been. I know there's probably not much chance I'd ever get to see them myself, but I'd like to hear about where you've been. Maybe learn about where you came from so it's easier to find a niche for you here. Everyone belongs somewhere, after all."

As distractions go, the question is a good one. Sam brightens, taking a sip of his cider as he thinks.

"If you'd asked me six months ago, I wouldn't have had much to say, not having ever traveled far from home," he says. "But as it happens I've seen more lately than I ever thought to see: the ancient homes of the Elves, mountains and forests and ruins - even a great ruined city of the Dwarves!" His face lights up for a moment, and then falls, as he thinks of what had happened in that ruined city. "I - I hardly know where to begin. As for a place to belong, well, I'll find a place to fit in somewhere I guess. It's not as if I need much room." He offers the Man a shy smile.

The ancient home of the elves immediately makes him think of Halamshiral. It definitely wasn't what it once was, but it was still interesting nonetheless. He imagines that Sam could learn a whole lot about that from the elves haunting the library, particularly Pel, but...she could be just a little bit abrasive and loud about her opinions, not exactly something he'd care to subject someone like Sam to.

"We've got ruined dwarven cities here, they're under the mountains, all connected by the Deep Roads. Not exactly a place you'd want to go to on your own, what with the deepstalkers and the darkspawn still down there, but they're amazing all the same. They light up the place with molten rock from deep in the earth. It's beautiful." Krem smiled some at that, then thought a moment before asking, "what about where you come from? Rivendell sounds like an elvhen place but the Shire's more like...maybe something you'd find around Ferelden. Least, if the naming of things is similar"

The description of the dwarf cities makes him smile, even if the smile is still a bit sad; it's close enough to Moria to sound familiar, and he doesn't have to know what 'deepstalkers' and 'darkspawn' are to imagine what they're like.

He nods, leaning forward eagerly as he thinks about the Shire. "Well, I haven't seen much of Thedas that's not either cold or wet: being too anxious about Mr. Frodo to take much notice of things on the journey here from the Mire as it were. But if I understand right from what people say, there's more alike than not between the Shire and Ferelden. The food's near enough it's hard to tell the difference, even if the names of things aren't quite what I'm used to. And the ale's familiar enough too, which I'm right glad of." He smiles at Krem as he takes another drink. "We don't have near as many wizards back home, though; nor giants - qunari I mean."

Wizards? That one takes him a moment to parse, then he chuckles quietly. "Yes, lots of mages here, particularly after they were brought into the fold for protection by the Inquisition. Far as the qunari are concerned, they've actually got their own nation in the northern islands. They're at war with Tevinter, sort of, but that's a long and complicated story in itself. But they're not all like that. You've met Korrin right? She's one of the fastest friends I've made here.

"But what's the Shire like? I grew up in a city, surrounded by buildings and s- Lots of people."

"The Shire?" Sam pauses, tilting his head as he thinks. "It's...well, it's no city. I'm from Hobbiton, which I suppose you'd call a town at least, yet even so it's mostly farms and fields. There are buildings, though none so tall as any in your city, I'm sure; but many of us still live in hobbit-holes, built into the hills."

Houses built into the hills? Now that sounded damned economical to him. "Must be damned cozy like that. Saves space or things too. Probably pretty. I grew up in a city but it was smaller than most. Traveled everywhere though. Always something to see outside your own walls. I'm almost surprised we haven't come across hobbits of our own out here, but who knows? Maybe we haven't even scratched the surface when it comes to how much world there is here."

Sam lights up at that. "Do you really think there are other hobbits here?" He considers it for a moment, but then shakes his head, his face falling. Even Galadriel had heard of hobbits, even if she'd never seen one, maybe.

"I - I don't know about that. It's a lovely thought and all, but surely someone must have seen one sometime, if there were any here at all." And no one had; he's been mistaken for a dwarf enough times to be sure of that.

CLOSED | It's not your fault

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