OPEN | so much to learn, so little time

[malavhenan]

WHO: Finel and YOU
WHAT: February catch-all
WHEN: Beginning a few days after Kirkwail
WHERE: Various
NOTES: Finel has lots of people still to meet - starters available on request or hit me with anything and I'll roll with it

I. The Library

The library has quickly become his favorite place in the Gallows, and as such he finds a reason to be there nearly every day for several hours. Some times, he's bent over a large volume at a table, a small leather bound notebook open to the side with pen and ink as he takes notes on different magical techniques - mostly healing magics, but also digging into the histories of Thedas, and on occasion some more esoteric volumes on the Fade.

Other times he just wanders through the rows, marveling at titles and enjoying the relative quiet. Even though the room is densely filled and surrounded by stone, he feels settled and safe, here.

On one occasion, he happens to have overstayed himself. Head pillowed on one arm, arm resting against the open book, Finel appears fast asleep at the table.



II. The Wounded Coast

The stone of the Gallows and the bustle of Kirkwall at times feel like all too much. Unused to the constant closeness of a city, he seeks a more open place when he feels overwhelmed and has the time to get away. He's only been on a ship a handful of times, but there's something about the rhythm of the waves, the endless expanse of the horizon that can erase his thoughts and worries, if only briefly.

He's settled on a piece of driftwood washed up on the beach, staff leaning by his side as he takes up a smaller branch, drawing idle words and shapes in the sand. Before long he sets that aside too, and begins practicing some small spells, pulling and shaping the Fade with his hands, forming ice and fire, calling a stone on the ground towards his hand and dropping it again. The anchor shard is dull and numb just below his thumb on his left hand, and he frowns a little as he looks at it.



III. Wildcard!

Request a starter or start your own - feel free to go with any other time you might have run into him in the Library.

Comments

[malavhenan]

Perhaps he imagines it, but there is something sad about the way Solas speaks of Skyhold, or at the very least something sad at the idea of not having a permanent home. He tilts his head when Solas looks back at him again, offers him a soft smile.

"I should like that very much, I think. There's so much of Thedas I still want to see."

Finel pauses a moment before continuing. "It seems like you have traveled to many places. Have you never wanted to make a home in any place in particular?"

[dirth]

It is a little sad, a kind of nostalgia that he cannot quite obtain here - it had been his, completely, once, but now? He has handed it over to an organisation far beyond his means, wishing he had the strength to make use of it but not being willing to do it. It's enough for Thranduil and Galadriel to know who he is and what his plans are; he has no need to make the situation more complex.

"The Inquisition will certainly give you that chance."

Pausing, Solas hesitates for a moment before he speaks softly.

"I am home in the Fade, always."

[malavhenan]

There's something about the way he says it that discourages the lighthearted comment that comes to mind. Finel falters a moment, feeling as though he's come up against something that's not quite his place to ask more. To travel so extensively both in and out of the fade, and yet to feel more comfortable there, away from the rest of the world and most other people seems so terribly lonely. Had something happened, once, for him to feel so at odds when he is awake?

It isn't something he understands, but at the same time, if not for Solas' expertise and experience, he may very well have been broken by the spirit that night.

Finel regards him quietly, his expression softening.

"That is where you are happiest?"

[dirth]

Solas' desires when it comes to Skyhold are mixed up and confused. His emotional attachment to it isn't what it had been once, and there's something like longing inside of him - he wants to go back to when things had been easier, to the world before, but he knows that it will never be the same. All his plans, all the things he had decided to do...

Turning his head, he looks over, hesitating for a moment before he breathes out softly. This is not going the direction that he had imagined it to, which is a touch more complicated.

At least the Fade is easier.

"Sometimes. It depends on the place, the memory."

[malavhenan]

The last thing Finel wants to do is force anyone to impart things that are too painful or too personal. They still don't know each other that well, after all, and there's nothing to be gained from pushing himself in where he isn't wanted. It's clear there's something Solas would rather not say, so he tries to bring it back to something else.

"Is there a happy memory you would be willing to share with me? But if you have other matters you'd rather attend, I won't keep you any longer."

[dirth]

"There are many memories."

Solas pauses, hesitating as he considers. There's a brief pause before he gathers his thoughts and then he leans forward. There's something almost like a smile on his face, something calming and soft and gentle.

"I was friends with a spirit, once."

[malavhenan]

Finel shifts, settling a little more comfortably and setting aside some of the more distracting things in front of him to give Solas his sole focus. There's a pleasantness to his voice, the same tender warmth that had broken through a tumultuous horror to calm and settle his heart. He leans in a little as well, eager for this seemingly small gift.

"What sort of spirit?"

[dirth]

"A spirit of Wisdom."

It's still something that pains him a little, to think of what happened to it. His friends had tried, with a great deal of their strength, but it had not been enough. They had not been able to save it and it pained him, just a little, to think about what had been taken from them both.

"It was transformed."

[malavhenan]

Finel leans his chin onto the curl of one hand, already enraptured.

"How so? What sort of things could you learn from the spirit."

[dirth]

"Mages summoned it and forced it to act against its will. That killed it."

It's said with an extreme kind of bitterness, the one that comes from not quite being able to have his vengeance - he was stopped. Idle fingers touch the bone necklace around his neck, the golden hair twined around it.

"Spirits are content to share all the knowledge they have gained with anyone who is willing to ask."

[malavhenan]

His expression falls, a small ache in his chest rising in sorrow and sympathy. Finel notices the touch, and it's hard not to lift his own hand to the pendant hung from his own neck in a similar fashion.

"I'm so sorry..." he offers softly, knowing that it's nearly meaningless. But even so, it deserves acknowledgment, at least. But still, he knits his brows together curiously.

"Are all spirits like that?"