faderift | ( closed ) embrace like an avalanche

[ All horses needed shoes and her horse - her horse was going to have the best she could afford. She would spare nothing for her and there is an easy simplicity to that, as she leads the mare along. Because it is a magnificent beast, or so she would say so herself.

Except for its temper. That was absolutely foul. For that reason especially it is kept close behind her on its harness, and her eyes are mostly on it - making sure she didn't try to slip free to bite someone ( or Lakshmi herself ). Distracted with keeping it close, and enough of one that -

... She didn't think this all the way through when the only person in the smithy is Lakshmi. Her breath sucks in as her head turns back, and spots who happens to be the only person in the whole damn shop. ]

Talonhold. [ She nods her head in greeting, stiff and brief. They could be adults about this, surely? ] I was looking for a farrier.

( She exhales a short breath of laughter. It's not a mirthful thing, nor is it incredulous. It just has the resigned quality of of course. Of course she is Talonhold, now. )

You were?

( As is, and what are you doing now? It's a poor attempt at humour that, again, lacks mirth.

After only a short pause, she carries on. The shortness of the pause does not bely the gossip she has heard, or the turmoil that she feels, or the utter joke that was this polite conversation after Satinalia. )

I can shoe a horse. ( Travelling with merchants meant that was a skill she had reason to keep up with, even if blades and weapons were her focus. )

[ And Lakshmi stiffly sticks to protocol, a hard line she'd damned neared crossed when she hadn't been paying attention. If there was anything to be learned, it was paying attention when she got too eager.

But the horse isn't patient, and when she is ignored for too long - her head knocks into Lakshmi's back, stumbling her forward. Enough that as she goes, she leads the horse in, further with her. ]

Well - if you would not be opposed to it. [ It's what she feels politely unsure a turn, she would not blame Magni for refusing her work, nor would anyone, rightly. ]

( It's my job - though she doesn't say it, she offers a slight shrug that might be interpreted as such.

The creature is a gleaming thing, haughty and proud. They're well suited, part of her thinks, less than charitably. The better part of her does not need to offer words in self-rebuke; there is simply a feeling of disgust with herself, as she tilts her head towards the area with room for the horse, part of the smithy with heavy wooden doors that open up to the outdoors and leaves room for kicking or jerking back.

The sword is set aside, and she goes to her shelves to collect some equipment, hand falling on the shoes she won at the tourney, that would silence a horse's hooves and allow them to sneak. She had intended to give them to Rani for Satinalia, before. Her hand hesitates for a moment before she grabs them. Angry as she might be, wounded and lacking dignity, she would sooner see Rani safe if there were some way for her to ensure it.

As she moves closer, she does recall one of her least favourite things about shoeing horses: being so tall, and having to bend over so much to rasp and shape the hoof. ) The name?

[ Nor is this horse exceptionally tall, though she stands sleek and ready to prance off the second. Immediately already uncertain about this new person that was moving about her.

But so were the right of battle horses. Lakshmi turns while Magni goes and prepares what she must for the task, to face her horse. There is a care there, infinitely so, that she reserves for so little in life. Her hand running down the horses nose, quick to make sure she isn't bitten. Then smoothing against her neck. The little murmurs in her native language to hush against her disease and unsurety. Hush, hush, I am here. ] Bansuri. It means flute. [ Her voice croons, low, warm: ] Be careful with her, she is not easily touched.

( Magni leans down, one hand resting at the horse's neck, feeling the shift of muscle, the coiled strength of it, and one hand rests a little higher than the muzzle. )

Bansuri.

( Quiet, steadying, before she exhales close to the horse's nostrils, waiting to see if she will get a huff back in return, a little greeting. Her manner might not always be so well suited to people, but animals she can understand well enough - respects well enough, and where people chatter, animals communicate with how they move, the flick of their ears, the focus of their gaze. How will this go then, Bansuri? How well will they work together? )

[ She does a good effort of not watching her too intently, but oh how she is, out of the corner of her gaze. As much for Magni's sake as her own keen interest.

Because she most certainly wasn't giving the warning simply to be dramatic, there was a reason this horse was hers now, despite her beauty, and it wasn't that Lakshmi was that wealthy by any means. The horse really was mean. But Magni was going to need to try, regardless, if this was going to work. Gently, Lakshmi lets the reigns lengthen in her hold, and Bansuri's head jerks up, free, whipping around to Magni. Staring - eye to eye to her, easily with Magni's height. Something that seemed to give the animal fair pause.

Before she gives a sniff, haughty most likely, yanking her head away like this was all somehow below her, and turns her head to resettle her weight and shove her face into Lakshmi's pockets. Looking for the reward that was probably there for her good behaviour. Probably for not biting for once.

Lakshmi lets out the breath she was holding and procures said apple from her pocket. ] That was good, she prefers to bite first.

( Magni resists making any comment. Instead there is just a faint smile, as she pats Bansuri's shoulder, and smoothes over the leather apron that has some of her tools in it. She has to bend a fair way as her hand feels down Bansuri's leg, checking conformation, before she lifts her hoof, seeing if it needs picking clean, before she brings it between her thighs to hold in place as she starts to rasp, making sure the hoof is the right shape, the right angle, for the hoof and the easiest gait for the beast. She is a little rusty, but she will persist patiently no matter the tantrums Bansuri might be in danger of throwing.

Each hoof is worked through, extending the leg forward to rest on the metal stump so she can shape from another angle, before they move to hot-shoeing. Not always necessary, but better for sealing the hoof against some extremes of weather. Magni leaves aside the plain shoes, and collects the ones she picked up before, a slightly different shade, different quality to the metal. )

[ Lakshmi falls back to let her work. For whatever else that has passed, it didn't change the fact that Magni was one of the best she'd ever seen work metal. That she was honoured that she might look after her horse at all.

But she's close enough at least, that when Bansuri shifts, she is nearby in case she was getting too riled up. Too quick to it, and it would take time and patience to try and ease that temper. For once, however, Lakshmi was glad to give it. Because the horse certainly wasn't ever in the mood for it, she pulls, trying to get free when she decided she had enough of standing in one spot long enough. Teeth baring and ears pricking and making the whole thing take more time than it should.

No wonder no one wanted it.

So when it's finally done, Lakshmi turns back towards Magni - business in mind, more than anything else. ] What's the price?

( Magni, for her part, is steady. Gentle with the animal and patient, but firm, does not let herself be shoved about by it. Ah ah she might reprimand, stern without escalating into anger.

As the shoes go on, Rani might notice that Bansuri's hooves do not clatter against the ground. Not totally silent, no, though certainly muffled.

She's glancing over the ground to triple-check to ensure no nails are on the floor. At the question, Magni shrugs, a little shake of her head. No charge.)

[ That - that was something she would insist on. Did Magni think she ... owed her something? With the thought, she frowns, something pinching in the corner of her mouth, unhappily set. This situation wasn't ideal, but they had to sort something out. ]

And if I insist?

( A long moment of silence, surrounded by all the rest of the silence that she carries with her, that fill the space around her. Magni rubs her throat, clears it. )

This makes me feel better.

( Quiet and rasping, as she starts setting her tool not necessary for her next task back in their places. )

I have realised: I was useful to let you feel better. That was my purpose. Now I will let myself feel better. I will do work for you, but I won't take your coin.

[ If there was a faster way to shut her up, she wasn't aware of it. That if she had other words, on the tip of her tongue, they are gone. Instead, she is left, gnawing on the inside of her lip in whatever restraint she could give.

I deserve that, is followed so surely by, please, I never meant such things. and the surety that none of it mattered anymore to how Magni looks at her, how it pins her there like an arrow's strike. ]

I... understand. [ Her fingers grip against the reigns, and as still as she keeps herself, as determinedly unmoving as she must be, the horse reacts. The impatient tug and pull. ] If that... makes up for what must be, by all means. I will not object.

( Despite herself, her inclination to quiet and observation, Magni scoffs incredulously.

On most people it might just an unusual exhale, but Rani knows her well enough. What must be. )

Don't condescend to me or— act the wounded party. What must be is a decision you made.

( Not loud or sharp, still oddly soft even with the roughness in it and the rise of temper. ) People talk, Rani. You drink some potion that keeps you young and you're fucking a warden who was worthy of your secrets. Thank the Mountain-Father that you didn't tell the savage Avvar your secrets. They've been truly respected.

I was trying to -

[ It's snapped out hotly before she's thought it through. Because doesn't she always, sharp words that go too far, and it takes a bodily effort to restrain herself. For anyone else, perhaps she wouldn't but - ]

Everything you say is true - I had intimacies with a warden. I am keeping a great many secrets that I do not wish to divulge in public, even if gossips seek to spew it. [ Gwen, probably Gwen. ] But don't you dare ever think this place and it's cruelties ever had anything to do with with what I did and did not tell you. I have been called a savage too many times in my life to ever do it to another - and all I know of them, it has been you who taught me, and for that, I have adored them for what they gave me.

[ She can feel the leather creak on the leather, something half raw in her gaze and sight. ]

I will take my leave.

( She wants her gaze to be challenging - it is not. It is the look of a wounded animal. )

Then it lies only with how you have judged me.

( Wanting, weak, or common. Not a legendary Warden who guards Thedas from the Blight, but a smith who can work metal to her will so much more easily than she can her words. She is not one who has felt the sting of self-doubt overmuch, is steady and calm most times, but this has— shaken her. Left her wondering. Either she has such poor understanding of her feelings and how it seems to her Rani feels that she has delusions of requited adoration, or there lies some fault in her so massive, some element so repulsive, that Rani would set that precious thing aside so easily and find her joys and satisfaction with another. And maybe it is neither of those things at all, she has sense enough to understand that, but both burn at her with such an intensity that she may as well have held her hand in the forge itself.

She swallows thickly. She has spoken more in the past few minutes than she might in a whole afternoon or day. )

That is what you enjoy best.

[ Temper, Manu, temper - ]

I did it because I have buried too many people I care about because of the choices I have made. Damn me if I let them touch you too when you did nothing but care for me.

[ - It never did work, no matter how often she told herself to hold her tongue inside of her mouth. All too much and all too much at once. Before she catches her breath, ready on the back step. ]

( Does that make it better or worse?

The mountain shudders, the rumble of the earth shifting, fire forcing its way to the surface. ) For— caring?

( Perhaps not delusion, then. Perhaps not something foul in her. She almost splutters incredulously - almost. )

That wasn't your decision to make alone. I'm not your subject. I'm not—

( Her words are failing her, and Magni is still for long moments. ) If that is your reason, your choice has been to deny my— my sense of my own mind, and my freedom. Autonomy. ( That's the word she wanted. ) To dismiss, insult and injure me, and then you claim it's for my own good?

( Magni shakes her head, and takes a step back, her expression one of realisation. ) You have no respect for me.

[ And to that - her eyes drop. Swallowing hard, furious, upset at something - terrible within herself. For this. For this much pain as she's caused it. Half damned in the woman she's become, she knows, and there are too many things she has given over to that to ever get it back so easily.

Either in this or in herself. ]

I understand, and I am sorry. You deserved that, and I denied it to you.

[ But at least, in this, she can now be sure that whatever it is, it is over and done with. At least Magni will no longer blame herself. It was one thing to end it, another - another entirely to think this was ever her fault. ] I have... lived a very long life. Alone. These things do not come easily to me, anymore. It is not an excuse, but it is the truth.

( Seeing Rani's gaze drop, her first instinct is to step forward and offer comfort. It's what she does, cupping Rani's jaw in her hands and bowing her head down to rest their foreheads together. Her chest feels as though it burns, as though the molten rock she saw in Orzammar might be bursting and bubbling in her, expanding upwards and outwards. Comforting her matters, even with the way Magni's can feel the lingering stings of the hurts. )

Here is my truth:

( Barely audible, hardly more than a breath. ) I hold you in my heart even now, but I can't trust you.

( Painful, cracked, before she starts to draw away. )

[ She catches those hands before they can go. Curling light around her wrists in a touch that barely one, only to direct her back. Turning them up, so that she can drop a kiss into her palms. One then the other, before she leans to press her face into one. Cupping it in the only scrape of affection she dares take.

Because even now, there is the truth. If she is not to go the way of the knights, if she ever not to fall victim to their cruelties, she must remember these moments. ]

And I, you. You have given me more than you even know. One day, I would seek to be worthy of you.

( Breathing feels uncomfortable, ragged, and she swallows painfully. Her hands are callused. One palm holds pearly discolouration from burn some years old, and though she wears gloves to work, there is still some soot caught in the cracks of her knuckles, smudges across the skin.

She wants to pull away, but cannot yet bring herself to. )

You say that now? ( After casting her aside. After taking comfort in another so easily and quickly. After dismissing her. How can she mean any of that, and how could Magni believe her? )

I must - or I might never. I am well equipped in convincing myself that my silence serves me better. [ She does not relinquish that hand, those dear warn hand she adores so. A curiousness all to themselves, an art all to themselves. Broad and strong, yet they could be so careful - if she were in the process of admitting such things, she might tell her how long she could watch her work just for the grace of these hands.

But this neither the time nor the place. ] There are things, things I did not tell them, that I must never share with anyone. Should I... should I ever be able to make amends for what I have done to you and you still wish to know me, if this is still something you want... then, ask me, that day. I will tell you and you can decide.

( A quiet huff of rueful laughter. Oh, Magni understands something of silence. How words can be uncomfortable and hard to shape, how desperately people wish to fill silence, how once things are spoken they can never be taken back. She should pull away from Rani, and her queenly mastery of words and their weaving. Silence serves her better, she says, when she can play her words in so heavenly a way as another might play a harp, weave elaborate tapestries of diplomacy. Was that not what being noble meant?

For a time, Magni stays silent. Big surprise, she’s sure. )

Prove to me that you’re sincere. Don’t make promises to me before then, please.

[ If it was, she might be better at it, when it had meant life or death.

But she hadn't. She had only herself, only the things she's done, good and bad - and for certain, there was much that was bad. The Inquisition could slay a battlefield through, and it would not match what he had done in one night to London's streets.

Her concern, however, is apparently. Not for that - but in the way, she looks back and around, in a half guise of running a hand against the back of her neck. Licking her lips as she thinks about not, if, but how.

With the horse's reins in her hand, she steps directly into Magni's space. Shifting Bansuri's body as a shield to be between them. What she does is - blatantly suggestive, rolling her body in, like a soft, mewling pliancy that was never how she approached anyone, even if they were her lover. Hopefully, something Magni well knows. Leaning up, whispering into her ear that outwardly looks - desperate, soft, puffs of air. ] Say that you hate me as a lover, I'm miserable to sleep with, something, make it sound like you are furious with me for looking at someone else. Just make it sound trivial like we are just squabbling over nothing, slap me if you need to. Like that is all we are talking about is that. Then storm upstairs. I'll follow.

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