WHO: Galadriel, Thranduil, Solas, Myrobalan, Merrill, Kitty, Lakshmi, Teren, Marcoulf, Jang, Obi-Wan, and Anders
WHAT: A trip to a perfectly normal Chantry in the middle of nowhere.
WHEN: Current.
WHERE: The Island of Alamar, Ferelden.
NOTES: Current warnings, to be updated: Mild Gore

The Abbey on the White Cliff

Around noon on the fourth day, Brigette and the other sisters gather up the people of the Abbey. Everyone who can walk, who can stand, is urged to join them in the auditorium--the doors at the end of the main hall are thrown open and the people welcomed in. Today Reverend Mother Alvar will be enacting her final miracle and, in the grand tradition of this Abbey, the people are invited to behold and take joy in the sight of it. They are encouraged to be there for the end of the previous Reverend Mother's life, just as they are encouraged to welcome the new Reverend Mother, Luca, as she assumes her new position.

The auditorium is a wide, stepped chamber that drops downward into an open forum and stage. The roof is high and domed and was once constructed of the same grey stone as everything else on the island. It was caved in at some point, destroyed by a falling tree, but it has been patched over with wood and canvas. The extensive scaffolding speaks volumes of how much effort has gone into restoring this room, but all of it stands still and empty in preparation for the ceremony.

Above the center of the stage, in the very middle of the room, visible from all angles, there is a great green tear in the veil--a massive rift cleaves the room in two. It churns sluggishly, ebbing and twisting, muted under the weight of whatever pall hangs across this Abbey. Around the rift there is a golden arch--the wood is carved into flames and swords and papered over in hammered gold leaf. Behind the rift there is a triptych depicting scenes from the Chant and each is lovingly painted and framed in gold.

The room is filled with chaos, but not of the sort one would expect in the shadow of a rift. The people who meander in, the pilgrims who take up the seats near to the stage at the base of the steps, all of them are smiling, all of them are happy, some are weeping tears of joy or remorse, but all of them are entirely unsurprised by the rift's presence. They take no issue lingering near it. Praise is heaped upon the carpenters for their diligence in finishing the arch, songs are sung softly as everyone gathers, and eventually the room is prompted to recite from the Chant as Alvar comes to the center of the stage. She is frail and those who spoke with her earlier will see how she has aged--twenty years in a day, it seems--and she leans heavily on Luca until she moves apart to stand on her own.

Here lies the abyss, the well of all souls.
From these emerald waters doth life begin anew.
Come to me, child, and I shall embrace you.
In my arms lies Eternity.

When she speaks the Chant, for a moment, her voice sounds youthful again--no older than Luca's--but it is fleeting and before the end she is breathless and thin once more.

OOC:

Hey everyone, this is part 2! I will be posting an initial thread for this scene that will be a free for all, but feel free to start a thread beneath the Ceremony Header if you want. Below I will be reposting the updated areas and people links, same as the previous post.

New Top-levels are welcomed, as always, but if you have questions please hit me up.

This section will contain the rest of this plot, unless we skyrocket to too many tags for me to keep them straight.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Merrill is floundering and watching that is too difficult. She cannot keep this from her, not this way, and she sighs as she leans forward. The kiss she presses to Merrill's forehead is soft and a little sad.

"It is a relic of power," she explains. "It consumes those who use it, who hold it, but with it...the power it has is too great for this place. The magic here is wilder than it is used to.

"These creatures, they were the bearers of it," she explains and lets out another sigh. "They used it freely until they perished...but to use it is to be...bound to it. We must take it back before someone who can truly control it finds it...before the last bearer returns and reclaims it.

"Even I do not know if she can...or what will come of that."

Merrill rises then, just enough to settle on the edge of Galadriel's bed, to embrace her this time. She's careful of her side but her embrace is otherwise firm, and warm, and full of love.

"Will you be consumed if you hold it again, mamae?" Her concern is clear, but Merrill only wants the answer. She knows there is not much of a choice.

"I thought I saw... when we were leaving. There was a spirit, one that Luca called Alvar." The last bearer, if she's understanding right; the item that lets them use miracles, that kills the Revered Mothers, that killed Alvar and restored Myr's sight.

Creators, Myr. What will happen to him?

She takes a rattled breath, blows it out into Galadriel's hair.

"Where do we start? What would you have me do?"

"Yes," she answers as Merrill moves to embrace her, and she shifts her arms to wrap around Merrill just as well.

"Eventually it consumes all things, but I have held it for many thousands of years," she adds. "Do not fear for me, fear what will happen if it is not I who holds it."

But Merrill has seen Alvar, has seen the woman return, and their time is already spent. Merrill is offering to help, just as Solas did, just as she wished they would not...but they must. Galadriel holds her tighter a moment and then releases her.

"We must find who carries it, whether it is Alvar or someone else. They will not give it to us...and the creatures will...seek it. If my measure of Alvar was not wrong, she may have the will to overtake the ring now. If she can wield it."

If she cannot, there is no telling what will occur.

She will fear for Galadriel anyway - but she knows that they cannot leave it here. Galadriel carrying it again is the best option, the only option, even if it hurts her.

"Was she the one who...?" There's a loose gesture toward Galadriel's side, where the bandages are. She swallows, doesn't really want to know, and at the same time must know.

"Spirit magic draws the creatures, makes them attack. Do you think it might do the same to her?" Do you know why remains unsaid; it is less important now than finishing this.

"Yes...and no. The knife was my own. I had planned to kill her, to take it, but she struck first. The wound is partially inflicted by my own hand."

She does hope Merrill will judge her kindly. There are so many here, but precious few opinions that would truly grieve her should they find her poorly, and Merrill's are among them.

"I am uncertain of the link between those powers and the ring, or what it may cause these things to do. I do not know if she will be led so easily."

This is the most frustrating aspect of this situation for Galadriel--that she cannot know and she cannot advise beyond the nature of the ring in Arda. Thedas has made things strange and new consequences have appeared that she could not foresee--she cannot aid in defeating them, or even in their combat.

"I do not know if she can wear it, or if it will refuse her. If it will refuse them all. It knows that I am here, it wishes to return, but if it does not bend to them...I know not what they will do."

"I suppose she wouldn't give it up, otherwise."

It's not an outcome Merrill likes and not a path she would have wanted to take - but she understands why Galadriel did it. They are hungry for the ring, and they will not let it go without a fight. Galadriel gave them the first fight and they won that round, would have won more permanently if not for the intervention of the ring.

She sighs softly, smoothing down some of the blankets with her fingers.

"Either way, it isn't safe here for those who don't truly have a part in this. It may not be safe here for some time afterward."

"I do not know if my ring can truly poison a place," Galadriel says with some hesitation. "The other rings were capable of it and each of them tore down the bearers and spread darkness deep into the foundations of the earth. Darkness that persisted through millennia."

At this she seems hesitant and a somberness bordering on sorrow settles over her. She does not retake Merrill's hand, her regret is too strong to seek comfort from someone she has taken into this danger, but she is sorely tempted to.

"The elven rings were different...it may pass...but for now it is not safe. These people should not be here...nor should you, my child."

She turns to Merrill and sighs.

"I am sorry. I have kept this secret for so long, I have had so little choice in it, that I can barely bring myself to speak it now. I should have warned you...all of you."

"It may not be able to, but the rift and the activity with spirits... it could be dangerous even if your ring weren't what it is."

Merrill has no such hesitations; she takes Galadriel's hand in hers again, squeezing.

"I understand why you didn't say anything- especially if there were others that could- could spread darkness like that. Especially with what I've seen here."

Many would be tempted to use the ring. Wouldn't Merrill herself, if she thought it could help her people, if Galadriel had not warned her about it? If she had simply found it... then yes. Yes, she could see how it dug into people, and why Galadriel hadn't wanted to breathe a word of it.

"But I'm not going to leave. Not without you."

"Then we shall remain and we shall reclaim it," she replies and squeezes Merrill's hand back. Galadriel is terrified what may come of this, but she trusts Merrill, trusts her utterly, and if it must be done, she knows she will see it through.

"I must rest, if I can--speak to Thranduil if you can find him, or to Solas. Thranduil has seen creatures the like of these before. He knows them well. They will aid you, or you them, and this nightmare shall come to pass."

"I will. Call for me if you need anything. Okay?" She knows Solas is attending to her, but she also knows that Galadriel may simply need to see her, at some point - simply to lay fear to rest. She'll certainly be coming back to check on her, at least.

Solas has not been far from Galadriel at all, has not stepped away from her nor dared to move from her side, and so it doesn't take much for him to know that he is being spoken of. He moves back to her side and reaches, touching her fingers with his, the barest of affections before he turns his attention to Merrill.

He should be more curious about the title of mother, but he knew this before now; Galadriel had been honest in that when the Dalish elf had first returned to Kirkwall.

"Thranduil is not far," he says, voice fond. "And I am here."

Simple Gifts [Closed] - Part 2

The Abbey on the White Cliff

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject