WHO: Ellis + OTA WHAT: Homecoming WHEN: Guardian WHERE: Kirkwall NOTES: Thread collection. Closed and open starters in the comments. Holler if you want something bespoke or drop in a wildcard, I'll roll with it.
A minor movement, not a shrug, but dismissive all the same.
There is little point in talking about her decision to acquire the shard. She has it. Nothing can change that now. Adrasteia made her decisions, and Ellis has made his own. He doesn't seek apology, or explanation.
He waits out the muted flutter of temper. Watches Adrasteia's hands. Considers the scope of what her question requires, and decides—
"My opinion matters now?"
An answer posed flatly, a stone dropped from a great height.
The thing Adrasteia thinks, lightning-quick, hurt, possibly unkind, but doesn't say is this:
If it hadn't mattered, he would be a Warden by now, either in fact or in death.
Instead she swallows that impulse. It wouldn't improve... anything about this conversation. Anything about the growing schism between herself and Ellis.
It looms over the question of Richard, of Silas, and renders it almost moot to him.
In fairness, Adrastiea is not the sole bearer of all the growing discontent tightening in his chest. It feels like something has been broken between himself and Silas, though Ellis hasn't fully identified it.
But it's not a fracture deep enough to pry an honest assessment from Ellis.
"If I say no, will that end your consideration of the possibility?" is just as measured as anything else Ellis has ever said. Tone flattened into utter neutrality, an absence of emotion.
"I don't know," she answers honestly. "I would... prefer more of an answer than just no. I would like to know why." Ellis trusted Silas at one point, she thinks; what's changed?
She's not sure it matters. She's suddenly not even certain this conversation matters.
"If we both reject him I have no reason to believe he won't simply find another Warden willing to do the work."
This is something Ellis has considered. There are Wardens outside of Weishauppt Fortress, perhaps even Wardens trustworthy enough to do the work. The strain between Ellis and the outliers of their organization don't dispel all the reasons to be cautious in dealing with them.
"You would bring more people into our ranks, knowing what we can be used for now?"
An issue that exists almost separately from Silas. There had been argument of this before, in the field in Ghislain. It had kept him and Alistair back in the siege in Nevarra, for fear of what might happen. It's only part of his reluctance, but it's a question that must be considered.
And beyond that, Ellis has been forcibly reminded of it all, spent months observing how deep Tevinter has sunk their hooks into the Wardens. Observing the First Warden, installed for a reason, and thinking of what that meant for their Order.
"I would. People with eyes open, aware of the risks. Not as we have been. Closed and secretive and fighting amongst ourselves to what ends? To become puppets, and not to rally against it?"
She opens her hands, closes them. Frowns at nothing. "I believe that to allow the Grey Wardens to whither and die in this war is not an option, or at least neither a safe nor sane one; the possibility of Blight looms ever-present, still. Do I think that we will be able to stop Corypheus?" Adrasteia shakes her head. "Once, perhaps, before..." Before Adamant. Before she stopped believing in the ability of the Grey Wardens to continue as they'd begun.
"But I have to believe there will be something after this war. And I believe that Wardens will have a role in protecting Thedas again."
Here, a little flurry of rebuttals might present themselves.
Ellis knows there are perhaps Wardens rallying. He knows where he might find them as well, and that the Commander may give him leave to chase after that trail.
He knows too that she is unorthodox. That the thread running through all of this leads back to that.
And he knows that he is—
Angry? If that is the thing stirring deep in his chest, it is slow-moving, stirred to life by the revelation first that Richard had brought all of this to her, and further, to skirt along the lines of something that feels very much like transgression, even if their Order is fractured. It cinches like a vise. Ellis remains very still, looking back at her.
"You are not the First Warden, Adrasteia," is economical, slicing at the concept she skirts towards.
The future of the Wardens is far off, too uncertain a thing to grapple with. Ellis can only see small ways forward, small repairs that might heal the whole. But even then, he cannot see reconcile himself to what Adrasteia hints at.
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no subject
There is little point in talking about her decision to acquire the shard. She has it. Nothing can change that now. Adrasteia made her decisions, and Ellis has made his own. He doesn't seek apology, or explanation.
He waits out the muted flutter of temper. Watches Adrasteia's hands. Considers the scope of what her question requires, and decides—
"My opinion matters now?"
An answer posed flatly, a stone dropped from a great height.
no subject
If it hadn't mattered, he would be a Warden by now, either in fact or in death.
Instead she swallows that impulse. It wouldn't improve... anything about this conversation. Anything about the growing schism between herself and Ellis.
"Were you under the impression that it didn't?"
no subject
It looms over the question of Richard, of Silas, and renders it almost moot to him.
In fairness, Adrastiea is not the sole bearer of all the growing discontent tightening in his chest. It feels like something has been broken between himself and Silas, though Ellis hasn't fully identified it.
But it's not a fracture deep enough to pry an honest assessment from Ellis.
"If I say no, will that end your consideration of the possibility?" is just as measured as anything else Ellis has ever said. Tone flattened into utter neutrality, an absence of emotion.
no subject
She's not sure it matters. She's suddenly not even certain this conversation matters.
"If we both reject him I have no reason to believe he won't simply find another Warden willing to do the work."
no subject
"You would bring more people into our ranks, knowing what we can be used for now?"
An issue that exists almost separately from Silas. There had been argument of this before, in the field in Ghislain. It had kept him and Alistair back in the siege in Nevarra, for fear of what might happen. It's only part of his reluctance, but it's a question that must be considered.
And beyond that, Ellis has been forcibly reminded of it all, spent months observing how deep Tevinter has sunk their hooks into the Wardens. Observing the First Warden, installed for a reason, and thinking of what that meant for their Order.
no subject
She opens her hands, closes them. Frowns at nothing. "I believe that to allow the Grey Wardens to whither and die in this war is not an option, or at least neither a safe nor sane one; the possibility of Blight looms ever-present, still. Do I think that we will be able to stop Corypheus?" Adrasteia shakes her head. "Once, perhaps, before..." Before Adamant. Before she stopped believing in the ability of the Grey Wardens to continue as they'd begun.
"But I have to believe there will be something after this war. And I believe that Wardens will have a role in protecting Thedas again."
no subject
Ellis knows there are perhaps Wardens rallying. He knows where he might find them as well, and that the Commander may give him leave to chase after that trail.
He knows too that she is unorthodox. That the thread running through all of this leads back to that.
And he knows that he is—
Angry? If that is the thing stirring deep in his chest, it is slow-moving, stirred to life by the revelation first that Richard had brought all of this to her, and further, to skirt along the lines of something that feels very much like transgression, even if their Order is fractured. It cinches like a vise. Ellis remains very still, looking back at her.
"You are not the First Warden, Adrasteia," is economical, slicing at the concept she skirts towards.
The future of the Wardens is far off, too uncertain a thing to grapple with. Ellis can only see small ways forward, small repairs that might heal the whole. But even then, he cannot see reconcile himself to what Adrasteia hints at.