faderift | MOD PLOT ↠ A THOUSAND WRONGS

MOD PLOT ↠ A THOUSAND WRONGS

WHO: Everyone!
WHAT: Assisting with the aftermath of occupation
WHEN: August through Kingsway
WHERE: Field of Ghislain
NOTES: OOC post. Please use appropriate content warnings in your comment subject lines as needed.

The Fields of Ghislain are, as the name suggests, broad open plains, more flat than not, more grass than trees. There are famous orchards around Arlesans at the southern end, but they fade into grassland and farm land, wide fields of wheat and corn separating quiet farming villages and the occasional bustling market town, the even more occasional country estate.

High summer here has always meant long hot days, dusty roads, and preparations for the harvest. Now it also means recovery from the sudden end to the area's year-and-a-half of occupation by the forces of Corypheus. On first glance, the area appears to have escaped relatively unscathed. There are a few burnt villages here and there, a few new rifts, and the scarred valley where the Battle of Ghislain took place, but there are also crops growing strong in the fields and markets open for business, people going about their lives.

On closer inspection, there's more work to be done. The immediate threats are obvious: an unusual number of rifts and the general thinning of the Veil they signal, small bands of enemies—including bands of darkspawn with red lyrium growths—still marauding through the region, isolated patches of red lyrium to be destroyed and Blight to be contained.

Most places have at least one building that's been destroyed by fire or force, some practically essential—a grain store, an infirmary, a watch tower—some invaluable in other ways—a chantry, a mayor's office, a monument to heroic ancestors. Some places showed more resistance than others, and there whole neighborhoods or even entire villages have been gutted by fire and the ruins shoved over like block towers. Some survivors fled and now return to pick through the debris, while others remained, living in shanties in the ashes waiting for a chance to rebuild. Despite the crops ripening in the fields there are signs of malnutrition in many places as well, stories of crops confiscated to feed the invading troops and only meager rations returned, worse off even than those affected by shortages elsewhere in Orlais.

And it's not just the material that the enemy has taken or destroyed. Every decent-sized village has its missing, people who were arrested and taken away in wagons or simply vanished one day out of the blue. Where there was resistance there were executions to discourage it, and while the inhabitants have already taken down and buried the displayed bodies, there are a few places where there is no one left to do so, or where magic placed remains out of reach but always in sight.

There are opportunities too: the enemy lived and worked here for 18 months. They did their best to cover their tracks when they left, but it was a hasty and unexpected withdrawal, and there is a wealth of information to collect and work through. There are houses they occupied that haven't been entirely cleaned out, papers only half-burned in an abandoned office, a storeroom in an outpost basement they forgot to empty. And there are the people who have been forced to live and work alongside them all this time to be spoken with, the names they've learned and the conversations they've overheard, the training exercises held on their village greens, all to be teased out and taken down.

One abandoned operation commands particular attention: the site that Riftwatch—then the Inquisition—observed on the eve of the Battle might be a shrine to the Old God Dumat. At the time this was a newly-discovered ruin and little could be discerned for certain, but during their occupation the Venatori have undertaken massive excavations. They've uncovered not just a shrine but a significant temple complex, much of it underground. Exploration of the lowest levels will be handled by a particular team, but there is more to see and do besides. The warren of ruins and the remains of the camp outside them must be searched for clues as to the Venatori's purpose here, and a preliminary study made of the site's contents. There are also the slaves who did the back-breaking labor of digging out the complex and now need assistance. Many are locals, who simply need a ride back to their homes. Others the Venatori brought with them from Tevinter, and they will need to be interviewed and local communities persuaded to take them in.

It is an unimaginable amount of work, but Riftwatch isn't doing it alone. The Inquisition still has a large number of noncombatants, many of whom have been sent to help with outreach and rebuilding in particular. The Exalted March, too, has plenty of volunteers that aren't exactly fit for the front lines. There is enough ground to cover for everyone, but there will be times when Riftwatch agents will be working with—or at least alongside—those from the Inquisition and the Exalted March, and orders are clear that they are to maintain good working relations and not start any trouble.

In between all of this there will be long rides by horse or cart from this village to that one over dirt tracks with cicadas buzzing in the sun, sweltering afternoons broken up by sudden, drenching thunderstorms, warm evenings playing pétanque on the green with the locals over a pint of cider. There will be as many wary as grateful, but hopefully by the end of the summer Riftwatch can tip that balance a little bit.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She laughs.

"How much did he actually help?"

"He whined the entire time and had to be shown everything to do," Colin says with a grin. "But the point is, he stayed for it and worked the whole time. Even if I got more done."

"I guess that's something. Progress, maybe?"

Athessa looks down at their hands and brushes her fingers over his knuckles idly. "How are things going with him? Both of you, I mean."

"Well, we're not all that good at it yet, I don't think, but there's time."

...Colin.

"I didn't mean the sex."

He looks faintly embarrassed at getting called out, but just gives a one-shoulder shrug.

"We're just friends having fun. I still have feelings, but I know he doesn't feel that way toward me. I think as long as I have realistic expectations, it'll be all right."

She lifts her head off his shoulder to look at him, trying to read any underlying pain behind those words.

"And you're really okay with that?"

He appears to think about that for a moment.

"Byerly and Lexie aren't together," he says slowly, "and it's because Byerly decided if he can't have everything, he won't take anything. Just because I can't have all of him doesn't mean I shouldn't take what I can have."

A beat.

"Or...let him take, since he's not very good with pain."

She hms softly and thinks about that.

Something about the wording doesn't sit right, but she'd have to examine it far more than she cares to in this moment to identify why.

"Just as long as he's not gonna break your heart."

"If he did, it would be my fault." Another little shrug. "I looked at the choice I had and saw I could regret either decision, so I went with what I wanted. I think I can live with it, if it happens. I'm tired of playing everything safe."

If he did, I'd kill him.

"I hope he doesn't. I don't think he's a bad person but he's even more clueless than me about a lot of things."

"He is very clueless. But he's also learning. Which, so am I. Maybe this is a mistake, but if I never make mistakes, how will I know?"

"I guess so."

It's a valid point, and she can't argue against it. After all, hadn't she told Bastien that she'd never get anything done if she waited until she was ready?

"I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I know." Remembering what he's supposed to be doing, Colin picks up his food again. "Any more than I want you to get hurt. But I also think I'm tired of being scared of sex. It's past time for me to work through that with someone I trust."

She gives a light, sardonic laugh and picks up her wine again.

"That's the one thing I do have experience with," she remarks, and takes a drink. "If it's not weird for you, you can talk to me about it. We just gotta be on the same page about it."

That, at the very least, is something she can offer lightly and with confidence.

"Well." It might be slightly weird, but not too weird to talk about it. It's reassuring to have someone with the same sort of experiences to talk with. He blushes. "It was nice? He didn't last very long. I was mostly relieved I could be fucked without panicking. But I feel like I was so focused on staying in the moment I forgot to enjoy most of it."

"Hmm. When you're focusing on staying in the moment, what do you do? Where's your mind at?"

"Looking at his face. Touching him, just. Making sure I know who it is. Trying not to think too much about what's happening. Then right when it started to feel really good, it was over."

"...Did you guys fool around first, or just fuck straight away? For me, the thing that makes me really enjoy myself and not get caught up in remembering what was done to me is drawing it out, enjoying everything beforehand," She eats some more meat and cheese, as if they're not talking about reclaiming control of their bodies after suffering abuse. "Coaxing little noises out of the other person, finding where best to put my mouth to make them hold their breath, what makes them shiver or gasp or say my name. All of that stuff is important, more than just put the dick in the hole."

"Oh." The last phrase gets a breathy chuckle. "That was probably our problem. There was a little kissing and touching, but once we decided what we were going to do, it was just a bit of fingering and then just...diving in, so to speak. Though he did make sure I came, it was just--"

He makes a jerking-off motion with his hand.

Athessa laughs and shakes her head. It's a friendly sound, not mocking or judgmental, if anything rather sympathetic.

"There's nothing wrong with having a quick rut, if that's what you want, but in my experience with men, it's far less satisfying. Oh—"

She takes a sharp inhale to voice an idea, but...

"—No, never mind. That's not really a...first-timer kind of thing, I don't think."

"What?"

"Well. If you put a ring at the base of a man's cock and it's just tight enough," She shrugs. "It'd draw things out longer. But I'd say get used to the other stuff first."

He nods. It does sound like something to get to later on rather than something to do now.

"I guess patience is also going to be part of it," he muses. "It was sort of a revelation to do it at all, you know? I don't know how it feels for a woman, but up the arse? Very painful if you're not careful. Very, very painful. So I was thinking about how it didn't really hurt, while trying not to remember back when it was...you know. Nothing but hurt."

His gaze goes a little distant, one hand coming up to scratch at his throat. What was he saying?

"But I liked...I liked him being part of me. I loved it. And when it felt good, it felt incredible. I want to do it more. A lot more."

"For women it can be painful when you don't want it, or when you're not ready. Or while you're bleeding."

But there again is the importance of taking time to enjoy each other, being patient, glorying in the sensations.

"Patience and practice are gonna be important. Maybe next time instead of trying not to remember the hurt, think more actively about what feels good. Revel in it, if you can," She releases her hold on his hand only to lightly brush her fingertips over his, over the lines of his palm and the delicate skin of his wrist. "The way it feels to touch, and be touched. And try not to worry about whether something seems weird; there's a kind of beauty in honest impulse. And you might end up appreciating something he never thought would be."

Though she is here, her mind is conjuring up memories of elsewhere. Her own bed, the flash of gold in Loxley's eyes and the surprise in his face when she told him they were beautiful. The soft sigh when she trailed her finger across his throat. Derrica's bed, laying entwined and breathing in the scent of expensive bath oils and sweat and sex, pressing sleepy kisses to the valley between her breasts. Deimos' room in Kont-Aar, her back against the door and his hand around her throat, knowing that with one flick of his wrist he could kill her, but feeling in that incongruously gentle brush of his thumb over her lips that he wouldn't.

Athessa pulls her hand away and sits back against the tree.

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