closed. send out the morning birds to sing of the damage,

[apostasia]

WHO: Martel, Adelaide LeBlanc.
WHAT: Comparative magical theory.
WHEN: Vaguely current/recent.
WHERE: Skyhold Garden.
NOTES: Martel is a warning, but if anything specific comes up, I will edit.

Having returned from his adventure down the Frostbacks with the Orlesian elf girl (and her thrice-damned horse), Martel - does not immediately seek out Adelaide's company. He does not, as a rule, seek out company. Much less immediately. There is enough as needs doing that can or must be done by him that though he has had it in mind to do for a time, it's been...not urgent. While other things - he did not miss the Abomination, no - have been.

Still. He finds her in the garden, unhurried as he descends the steps, observing her. The way that she moves, stiff and deliberate; it is a moment before he announces himself, and not with a greeting--

"It seemed to me that as I have made myself a part of this organisation, I might make myself available to some of the relevant parties as to what uses I can be put to," not quite dryly, just sort of - as Kalten once put it, you know how he is. Martel talks a certain way, it's a problem with his personality.

And as for relevant parties, there are a few, potentially. But the simplest place to start is with the mages, and he and Adelaide are...

...acquainted.

Comments

[apostasia]

"Not to me personally," he says, very mildly. "I find him competent and interesting. I think the Inquisition has a resource in him they ought not overlook."

It isn't quite the same thing, but - well, it isn't as if he doesn't think Dorian is useful. It's just that it has more to do with generally approving of his uses than it does considering them in context of himself.

...whereas cultivating Adelaide has rather more direct benefits.

[fleurdesel]

"A sensible mage from Tevinter. I honestly had not thought them to exist." And yet here Dorian is, proving a number of people on either side of the conflict wrong. He knows it, pretends it doesn't bother him, and moves along with his life and studies. Adelaide has to respect that.

[apostasia]

"The world is full of surprises," he says, his faint smile more in his voice than on his lips. "This world, and, I imagine, every other."

He was surprised enough to find himself in it.

"He bemoans the state of things at the top of his lungs, but he acts to a purpose and achieves a great deal while other people are complaining about the sound of his voice." A shrug.

[fleurdesel]

"Were it not for the sound of his voice we might have him on the Council. As it is? I may or may not use him as a consultant. Unofficially." If two friends share wine and happen to discuss council business among other things- that breaks no regulations. He has no vote but he does have opinions- and as he's put forth the effort to see her where she sits? It is only fair that he help her manage in some way or another.

"You may end up sharing his fate; while the manner in which magic is learned and taught varies greatly- perhaps there is something of use in your teachings that can be applied to ours." Even if it is only 'hit the fool with a stick until they stop moving'.

[apostasia]

Martel is a strong proponent of hitting fools with sticks. Just so long as Adelaide doesn't get any clever ideas about applying that wisdom to this fool, of course.

"Unofficially," he repeats, amused, at the thought of serving as Councilor LeBlanc's rifter advisor. It isn't a terrible idea; drifts him a little closer to the centre of things than he'd rightly planned on getting, but not too close. It isn't as if they're ever going to actually let someone like him serve on their Council, after all, and he has no illusions that Adelaide won't ignore his opinion and tell him he's an idiot for having it if that's her inclination.

"My practical similarities to your Templars might be useful, there."

Not that he'd speak for them - but a perspective that sits somewhere between both, an outsider's view with insight.

[fleurdesel]

"It is not so clandestine as it sounds. We meet. We drink. We speak." The walls have ears but Dorian is hardly subtle in his tastes and proclivities. With Martel? Discretion or some other manner of excuse might be to her benefit.

Meeting for tea and meals would suffice for some time but- if it is possible to multitask? She would prefer that.

"In more ways than you think, truly." She's uncertain how to ask other than to simply do so, and thus thinks nothing of the asking. "It might be better for you and I to hold such conversations while you demonstrate for me what it is you will be teaching the apprentices. I should like to know what they are being shown ahead of time."

[apostasia]

"The easiest way to demonstrate that will likely be to teach you, which I'm sorry to say might preclude the drinking," with a sharp smile - yes, perhaps it's better that the time she spends with Martel looks a bit less like the time she spends with Dorian.

Though if Skyhold means to give her a reputation for preferring biting brunet mages, there probably isn't much that can be done to stop it short of actually just marrying Alistair.

[fleurdesel]

Much as she has never cared for violence- they are in the midst of a war. She has people she must protect and limitations on her greatest asset. Should Compassion lift the ban on doing harm it would be easier but even then? Better to not be rendered senseless and useless and harmless without her magic. "I think I can stand your company and your instruction without needing wine."

Afterward, though- depending on her bruises. "We were instructed in basic staffwork in the Circle and little more; those who attempted to teach themselves afterward were politely discouraged."

[apostasia]

"Politely," he echoes. "Yes, I can imagine."

Even at a glance - Martel is not a man who has led a peaceful life. He carries himself like a nobleman, certainly, but he is far too alert to be only that; the tension that's always present, how conscious he is of the way that he moves, how deliberately he does so. The strength in his hands and the line of his body. The scars that she's seen (and half of Skyhold, when he first arrived).

"You should have a blade," he says, frankly. "Something discreet. A - last resort."

[fleurdesel]

"...To be honest I am surprised I have not found one as of yet." After the Spire- if she'd had a knife, anything, Roul might not have had to kill Unger. She might have saved herself.

It is not something she is proud of, that moment, but she is not so foolish as to assume such a thing may never happen again. There are the usual excuses, she is a healer, a teacher, violence disgusts her-

But as a last resort it is...slightly more acceptable. "What...what would you recommend?"

[apostasia]

"Something slim, that you might easily wear and conceal - something you might get into the habit of wearing. Better to have it and not need it. Easier, too, if it's habit and always there. You reach for it if you're used to it, as you might forget it if you carry it as rarely as I hope you'll need it."

He frowns at nothing. "Not a stiletto, as charming as that might be. Something with an edge."

If it sounds as if Martel has some experience of advising women of a gentler nature on their best methods of self-preservation...he has led an interesting life. Some of it even in the service of his King.

"I might teach you to duel," he says, thoughtfully, glancing at her. "Just for the discipline and motion. And I think you could be persuaded to enjoy a bout with a rapier. It's more of a dance."

[fleurdesel]

"I shall defer to your obvious expertise." Blades are for other people to carry, other people to mind. Most mages and apprentices carry pen knives but they were too small and slight to be worth much of anything; a proper dagger meant to do harm?

She'll likely be uncomfortable with that until she becomes accustomed to it.

"Most duels in the Spire did not make use of blades. I can't say I am not intrigued by the idea." Her, a duelist? A dagger is asking much, but learning a rapier-

Well if he thinks it will help, it will help.

[apostasia]

Her discomfort - or getting past it - is rather the purpose of the exercise. Martel is already contemplating what might be most suitable for her; it's likely he'll speak with the merchants himself later. (Which has other benefits, such as no one immediately becoming aware that Adelaide LeBlanc wants a knife.)

"The rapier is not my first choice to do anything useful with," he says, wryly, "but I carried one at court and I learned the duelist's steps." If his tendency to talk about it as if it's a dance sounds a little bit dismissive more than artful - well, it is, but he can appreciate it. Enough to see the value of teaching it to her. "The purpose of dueling with such a blade tends to be more for sport than intent to kill, and we can blunt the tips. Something to introduce you to a new way of considering your body that is less..."

His gesture is small.

"You aren't going to accidentally hurt me. Your muscles might complain the next day."

[fleurdesel]

"Yes, because even artful violence is so sporting." It's wry rather than angry, the twist in her voice. Such things are far more common in Antiva than Orlais; but the use of it isn't beyond her. It will take some time and some work but it will be well worth learning.

The last earns a soft snort, the lightest snapping of her fingers. "Damn. And here I thought I'd finally have an opportunity to repay you the courtesy."

Yes, they can joke about how they met now.

[apostasia]

His laugh is all the more genuine for how startled it is - can they? It'll be some time, in likelihood, before he thinks he might risk trying it himself, but he doesn't hesitate to appreciate the moment as she chooses it. Very little is sacred to Martel; his own death is a punchline he can't pass up. But being allowed to laugh and being allowed to make the joke first aren't the same - he knows.

"I see your game," he says, amused. "You only want to learn so you can give me a taste of my own. Well, fair."

[fleurdesel]

"Am I so transparent in my intent? Yes. Yes I am." She snorts a laugh, softer, shorter than Martel's but no less mirthful. When he is like this she can say that he's tolerable. Even go so far as to risk calling him pleasant company.