Dream and Idea

[judgemewhole]

WHO: Norrington and You
WHAT: Norrington and the Seven dwarves Templars arrive at Skyhold
WHEN: Beginning the 3rd week of Haring
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Warnings for the Chant of Light. Because Templars.

Night had fallen on Skyhold when the guards at the gate spotted seven soldiers mounted on horses, with another driving a car behind them, riding across the stone bridge to Skyhold proper. The call-out did not occur until the watchman on duty spotted the templar armor. The templars in Skyhold were many, but not so many that the watchmen didn't know who they were dealing with.

When they arrived at the gates, the man in front dismounted, and with a promptness that surprised the gate guards, gave them travel papers and proper identification. The man was clearly weary - his green eyes were red-rimmed with exhaustion, but he held himself up right and straight.

The guards sent word ahead, to anyone who might be up and still in charge, and then opened the gates to let the templars in. They pointed them to the well, and to the stables, while they got someone to ... well.

They didn't look like red templars. Were they rogues? Were they spies? They were watched quite carefully.

For their part, the templars themselves seemed rather subdued. Taking care of their mounts, talking amongst themselves. Except the tall, dark haired man with sharp green eyes. He muttered something to the red-headed templar, before starting to walk around Skyhold itself. It was clear the man was looking to get the lay of the land.

...Or perhaps to figure out just what the hell he had gotten himself into.

Who was to say it could not be both?

Comments

[fleurdesel]

"Ask to touch the chest hair. It will make him laugh." A beat. "And keep my name out of the conversation."

What, exactly, Varric would think of her giving out such instruction she cannot say, but it seems wise to not let him know in the first place.

Still. Wine is wine- and good wine is more than appreciated. She takes the bottle and the cup, murmuring her thanks.

[judgemewhole]

"Only if he signs my book and tells me I am the prettiest templar." Norrington replies, before one eyebrow raises, "The secret dies with me - and of course the rest of them."

Now he would in fact have to find Varric Tethras, drop himself down and 'moon'. Then ask about the chest hair, before leaving without another word. Just so word would get back to this crisp woman with a sense of humor rather like his own.

He nods, "And feel free to keep the cloak until you find your own. The healer should not catch a chill, after all."

[fleurdesel]

"And leave my patient bereft? I've a room inside the hold where it is warm. You do not." She tucks the bottle into the crook of her arm and shrugs off the cloak, folding it over before offering it back. It is cold, yes, but it is not hers and that invites a depth of obligation she is in no way, shape, or form comfortable enduring. "Light duty. I mean it."

[judgemewhole]

"Yes, but I am stoic. That protects me from the cold, doesn't it?" He states with a completely straight face, before he rolls his eyes, "Yes, yes ... light duty. I shall endeavor to lift nothing heavier than a quill."

[fleurdesel]

"If you fail to keep to it, I shall know." And there will be a reckoning. Or. Well. Bitching. One or the other. One last good look to Norrington and his men before she sweeps back out again, just as imperious as she'd been when she arrived.

[judgemewhole]

"I have no doubt if that, my Lady." Norrington dips his head respectfully keeping her gaze with his own green eye. He only smirks a little as she sweeps out, before turning back to his men.

"Well, all right. So ...everyone get to resting." He stated, as he took his cloak and slipped it over his shoulders, "I, myself am going to get to bed."