[Open] No boom today. Boom tomorrow.

[justice_is_blond]

WHO: Anders and anyone! Or, well, almost anyone. Sorry, Fenris and Cullen...
WHAT: Anders arrives at Skyhold, takes a new fake name, and tries to get a measure of the Inquisition while keeping a low profile. Starting in prose, but will switch to brackets to match if that's preferred!
WHEN: Mid-haring
WHERE: All over Skyhold, choose your location?
NOTES: Warning for Anders? I can't think of any real ones atm, I'll update if that changes.

He's tired, but that's nothing new. The road's been long. It shows in the way he leans a little on his staff, a fairly generic-looking thing that's far from his old appreciation of things flashy, just as it shows in the state of his rather ragged-looking robes and the scruff of a beard that he doesn't exactly like. At least he's not dead on his feet - the company of a few refugees more than willing to bear the brunt of conversation on the way up had made the last couple of days more bearable than usual.

Now he's here, and the strain is back on his shoulders. Skyhold holds more than the usual level of danger but there's no getting around the fact that he has to at least visit this place. The Inquisition is likely to be a player in the future of mages, and Anders will not see the little bit of progress made be undone out of fear, or laziness, or naivete, or any other number of things that could cut down freedom for his people.

But that doesn't mean he knows how to go about working toward that, just yet. And that means he's slowly going around the fortress, gathering information by listening and asking simple, short questions. They have to be short. The second-to-last thing he can afford is to slip up and let Justice get too accusatory, which could lead to the last thing he can afford - to be recognized by someone who would turn him over to the 'authorities,' such as they are.

"Have you been with the inquisition long?" is one of the most frequent questions, along with a follow up if the answer is yes: "Do you think they treat mages well here?" It's not like he's hiding the staff, after all. But there are more simple questions mixed in as well, questions about the need for herbalists or healers, about where one might find a warm enough corner to sleep in, or where one can lose what few coppers they have over a game of cards. They're general. Careful. They have to be. He's no longer ready to die.

Comments

[fleurdesel]

"Or make offers they know will tempt you." Knowledge is her weakness; being aware of that doesn't make declining them any easier. There are no shortcuts, none worth the price they demand- though the conversations do tend to be terribly enlightening. Spirits are one way for how they are- Demons are demonic for being more human.

If it wouldn't have gotten her in terrible trouble in the Spire, she might have done more research in that area.

"I have never been truly accused of sweetness until then. Not quite since, either." She is many things. Sweet? Is not one of them. Eyes on her own serving of the soup she doesn't notice the glimmer until after she answers. "More or less, yes. When you wish to cook without attracting undue attention you pick up or develop a few tricks."

Her eyes flick up, catch that look- and she's pink again. Merde. "You are a terrible man."

[justice_is_blond]

He nods in acknowledgement. Demons had hundreds of years to study mortals and their weaknesses, and most skipped no opportunity to hone their skills. Humans were nothing more than objects to them, another reason he doesn't think Justice is fully gone, yet.

And the amusement that comes from her going pink yet again is another part of why he doesn't think he's fully gone yet either. He takes a sip of tea as he leans back in his seat a little. What he thinks, but won't say, is that the only reason he can be so terrible is because he knows this won't go anywhere. He's dirty and road-weary and she's being kind. That's all.

"That's who I am. Terrible. A shame you've discovered that so quickly; I'd been hoping to spend far more time in your presence before that came out."

[fleurdesel]

"Detlef the Terrible." She snorts a laugh. "Precision over power was the basis of my training in every school of magic in the Spire. I do not know if it was simply my mentor's philosophy on magic in general or my temperament that made it the better lesson. But it is one that I took to heart for more than magic."

In her studies, in her relationships, in her cooking, in her instruction. Specificity over generalized study and socialization. Perhaps she is due a terrible associate that is terribly flirtatious; enough to remind her to mind herself.

"How fortunate that I do not actually mind it terribly."

[justice_is_blond]

"But precision with power is truly something to be see." The smile slips for a moment before he recovers it, the briefest of changes. The spell he'd used with the Chantry had been impressive visually as well as destructively and he'd needed to be precise.

"Healing takes precision, after all, and we do it with far greater strength thanks to the spirits we work with." That's safer, and he can get back to flirting. "But I'd like to learn this application of hates, if you're sure my presence isn't too terrible. After all, it may well take a few one-on-one sessions for me to get the hang of it."

[fleurdesel]

"Mages that focus more on power than on skill are mages that more often than not are misusing their magic." Battle prowess, selfish gain. Magic is for assisting others- and what good that came to you from that is good you've earned. She has to hold fast to that if nothing else.

"Perhaps after you've rested, yes? The rejuvenation will hold you for an hour or so more but there is no substitute for a proper rest in a proper bed." Where her students found the thing, she can't say, but they've one and she attempts to take turns as often as they allow her to do so.

[justice_is_blond]

He nods in agreement to the statement. Power is good, but without skill it's simply power and doesn't truly serve anyone.

"I don't know. If I get into a bed I may never climb out. It's been so long." But rest is a good thing, now that the food's vanished and he's finishing his tea. "Don't, however, take that as an objection. If you're sure you don't mind some stranger taking a bed in your rooms, I'll gladly do so. ...But perhaps after a bath?" Because there's no way he wants to mess up actual pillows and blankets with the state he's in.

[fleurdesel]

"There are hotsprings under the hold- at this time of day they should be unoccupied. I will walk you to our room so you know where it is you will be staying- and to give you an opportunity to set down your packs. One of the boys can walk you down to the springs once you've settled in. I will have to return here; there are still injured that need tending." Even if the lines were nowhere near as long nor as dire as they had been when she'd arrived- it is her vocation and so long as she has a schedule to keep? She means to keep it.

"But until you find a space for yourself in the hold- you are welcome in our rooms. There is something to be said for safety in numbers and how else might I keep my word that templars shall not trouble you?" Anyone else, any other mage, even, and the invitation wouldn't have been so readily given. But Detlef is one of hers- a Spirit Healer, one weary and battered and aching for somewhere safe. She couldn't save her friends, her mentors. It isn't enough to balance the scales but- it is something.

[justice_is_blond]

Anders nods and stands, picking his packs back up where he'd set them.

"Thank you." Empty hotsprings, too. He'll likely always be a little self-conscious about the scars he carries, and if he doesn't have to show them off today he'll be glad. "I truly appreciate all of this, Adelaide. It's a warmer welcome than I've had in..."

The trailing off isn't intentional. He'd thought he could think of a time he'd been welcomed this warmly before, but even returning to Vigil's Keep had been fairly perfunctory, and he'd been dragged back every time to Kinloch Hold. He's never had a welcome this warm before. Anders coughs, looking away and trying to cover for that.

"Right. A bath, sleep, and then I can assist with the injured as well. I'll follow you?"

[fleurdesel]

"You are welcome. I would want the same were I in your position." Had wanted- but no one here had known enough to offer it- everyone had been in morning or confused by the events at Haven. She cannot begrudge them the time, only seek to be what she would have wished for herself back then.

He trails off and she reaches out, a tentative, darting thing- the briefest brush of contact in her hand against his. A touch, a squeeze, a wry twist of her lips. Mages do not often receive such care. It isn't a part of the world they'd lived in but here, perhaps, they can build something better. Something lasting.

"You'll be resting for a full day at least, Detlef. I was not joking when I said you looked awful. Better now but...a full day's rest before I let you help. You need to take care of yourself as much as whatever patients you find here." She opens the flap to her tent, ducking out and bidding him to stay inside a moment. A careful glance around the courtyard proves there are no wandering templars attempting to hover- she is able to keep her word. "It seems we are clear for the moment. Come. The room is in the hold proper."

[justice_is_blond]

The touch is fleeting, which is likely a good thing. The last thing he wants to do is show more weakness while clinging to her hand.

As he follows her out, he shakes his head. "I'll try to rest a day, but I can't guarantee it. Resting doesn't always come easy for me, and there's a point at which I'm better off helping and healing as opposed to laying in a bed tossing and turning."

Honestly, that point is more when Justice decides it is, rather than any sort of restlessness from him. But he can't explain that, so instead he walks alongside her, keeping a wary eye out as they head into the massive building. It makes him miss... not Vigil's Keep, not being a Warden, but a few of the people he knew while a Warden. None of the missions had ever been pleasant. The company, though. That he'd enjoyed, even when wishing his nose would cease working.

"I promise to rest as long as I can before seeking to help. Will that do?" It will have to.

[fleurdesel]

"You have been traveling how long on a mostly empty stomach through the winter and the wilds? A day's rest. If you must work it will be light work. I'll not have you undo all the good we've managed so far." It is a familiar path by now, the weaving way from her tent to the hold to the long hallway where most found their rooms. She keeps a steady, clipped pace- head high, shoulders back, sparing a moment to nod or murmur some manner of greeting to those that they pass. Shade of the easily flustered Adelaide tucked away in favor of the Councilor LeBlanc.

Or the Lady LeBlanc, depending upon who was speaking to her.

A young man with dark hair is sitting outside the room, staff propped against the wall next to him book and notes in his lap- he stands at their approach. "A guest that shall be staying with us until he finds his own quarters. His name is Detlef- I must return to the healing tents but if you could send Henri or Leon down to show him the way to the hotsprings after he settles his things?"

The man nods and ducks inside, leaving Adelaide and Detlef in the hall- she opens the door for him and it is much as she has said- bedrolls tucked about the floor with packs and small stacks of books. The far corner has a worn, wobbling desk covered in sheafs of papers and still more books- adjacent to that? The proper bed with an actual mattress. "Mind where you step- I think Henri has let his mouse out to wander the room again."

[justice_is_blond]

He doesn't argue further. It's pointless. He can wish for rest, she can wish for him to rest, but if Justice decides he's done resting, then he's done resting. All Anders can hope is that Justice understands what Adelaide is seeing and accepts rest as a need. There's no changing it, otherwise.

Walking in alongside her, Anders smiles faintly. All of the books and papers mark this so clearly as a mage's room. Or a writer's, Varrick always had paper everywhere, but it reads as mage to him. And there's the bed, too. A real, actual, bed. Not a cot, not a blanket spread on the floor, a bed. It takes him a moment to realize she's spoken again and he blinks.

"Watch for the pet mouse. Right." With a nod, he carefully makes his way across the room, watching his step and where he puts his things. He won't stay in this room long. He can't stand to weigh on others too much. But it will be nice for the day or two it takes to get other quarters.

"Thank you again. I'll meet with Henri or... Leon? And when next you see me, maybe I won't look quite so awful. I can't promise to not be terrible, however."

[fleurdesel]

"As long as you are rested. Henri and Leon are- well they are young." She motions to about rib height on herself, as the boys have not yet started growing. When they do they'll likely pass her up in short order. "They like to be helpful but aside from grinding pasts I do not have much for them to do. This will help you both."

Children like to feel useful- to feel helpful. She does what she can to accommodate. "be as terrible as you wish, Detlef. I will manage to endure. Roul will make certain you are not disturbed."

The younger man that had been sitting vigil gives Detlef a quick wave- and a quirked brow for the banter. Adelaide doesn't often banter. Affairs sorted Adelaide sweeps back out, heading for the healing tents, content that Detlef is in good hands.