MOD PLOT ↠ A THOUSAND WRONGS

[faderifting]

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.

Comments

[hornswoggle]

The first thought: a house, on an island, finally free of the sea.

It is so far off now that John does not consider it for more than a breath. The house was built on sand, and it seems with every passing day it becomes less and less possible.

Belatedly, it occurs to him that his word choice was either poor or too honest.

"That's not something I can decide on my own," is what John says at last. It's impossible to discern her feelings in this moment, to guess at what she wants. Would this have been easier or harder to navigate from horseback? Some instinct demands that he'll find an answer for her more easily if he could take her by the hand again.

[filotimo]

The ground at her feet cannot hold her interest. It doesn't offer insight any more than the field or the horizon does, offers fewer answers than her own deliberation and the emotions written on John's face.

So she looks to the latter, finally, seeking... something.

"Alright."

[hornswoggle]

"Alright?" John questions.

Her posture still seems closed off to him, without a clear invitation to take her hand, touch her face. John takes a step closer anyway, as if the proximity will help him to glean any clue as to her thought process, give context to the single alright she'd offered.

[filotimo]

Her thought process is largely cyclical at this point, which contributes greatly to her closed-off posture. Tight shoulders, hands pressing into the stone, furrowed brows and an uncertainty she's trying very hard to banish from herself.

Madi takes a breath and looks at the horses, the trees, at John again, the ground.

"I have known you to be inseparable for as long as I have known you," she says. Controlled. Cautious. "I have known your fears. Watched their struggle within you, and seen them fade. As you have watched me struggle with distrust."

And seen it fade, in turn. Another deep breath.

"If you say this does not change anything...then...I trust you."

But she makes no move to reach for him. Doesn't relax. Keeps thinking.

[hornswoggle]

"Madi."

At last, his hand reaches out, covers one hand where it's pressed against the stone.

"Look at me."

John knows from experience that asserting a thing too many times in a row makes a statement sound false, no matter how sincere. She isn't bestowing her trust lightly, but nothing in the set of her jaw, the tension in her body, makes him think she's taken to this easily.

[filotimo]

Indeed, it is not an easy thing. Her understanding is at war with some irrational feeling that settles in the pit of her stomach, and until she has the time to sit with that feeling and take it apart at the seams, she will have to work harder than she otherwise might just to trust him.

And Him, as well.

Madi meets John's gaze, and while her consternation does not leave entirely, her expression softens. Beneath his, her hand turns over, her fingers curling over the edge of his palm.

[hornswoggle]

Is this enough? Is the clasp of their hands enough to say all that it must? If there is a gap between their understanding of each other, is that due to two years of experience he has yet to fully explain to her?

"I'm not asking you decide your feelings all in one moment," is what he says finally. "But you must know my feelings for you. Two years have not diminished any part of it."

The admission is purposefully sparse. He offers her truth with no lyrical turn of phrase to distract and sway, nor attached to any excuse or weighted description. Yes, he has missed her so greatly it pained him. There's no reason to say as much now, not when it would unfairly sway her.

"And the entirety of what I feel for him, for both of you, I have found it all to exist in balance," John continues, eyes on her face, awareness of her hand in his a cool burn. "If you need time to consider all of this, and what it means to you, I won't ask you to deny yourself that."

[filotimo]

She lets out a breath, not quite a sigh, but some minute release of tension. Settling her free hand at the base of his skull, she pulls John closer to rest her forehead against his. This connection has always been a balm, unlike the meeting of their lips or bodies, a reassuring mingling of breath and thought. At times, she wishes she could understand him more, or be understood through this simple intimacy, but alas.

When they part, with her hand sliding to his cheek, she nods. There is time. There is a clear path, at least to the next step.

"You are right," she starts. "That this is not something for any one of us to decide alone. I will need time to consider, and-" A pause to shape the meaning of this word, "We will need to discuss it."

[hornswoggle]

Some flicker of humor crosses John's face, passes without culminating in a laugh. Compared to the conversations they've had thus far and as yet need to have, talking around and around the mess of Nascere and how it will be best approached, the discussion she proposes now is incongruent to the point of hilarity.

But she is right. John is not so naive to believe this is so easily navigated. His hand tightens lightly in hers before he tips his head to the horses.

"And in the meantime, we'll go about Riftwatch's work."

Madi will not make up her mind in a day. Maybe not even within a week. But there is some relief in her initial response, the reminder of her trust in him. And there is still real satisfaction in riding out to do this or that errand on Riftwatch's behalf with her at his side. That's enough to carry them both forward, for the moment, even as it underscores for John just how much else has been left unsaid between the pair of them.