OPEN

[mythalenaste]

WHO: Pel Ashara and YOU
WHAT: Beboppin' around Skyhold
WHEN: The middle of Wintermarch through the middle of Guardian.
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Catch-All. Will update.

OOC: Pel can be found in any of her usual places: the library, the garden, and the tavern. Or make up your own place to find her. PM me for a starter if you want one.

Comments

The Library

[eolasemah]

Sina and Pel had had multiple research sessions in the wee hours, after the garden work was done and when sensible people were in bed. Tonight was one such night, and once again they were both folded over a table piled with scrolls and books and candles, but tonight was different, because something had changed. Pel was different, and Sina not only felt it, but had seen it in action.

She was unusually standoffish as they worked tonight, even for her. She could be a veritable chatterbox when it came to studying their history, but tonight she was taciturn, casting the occasional pensive glance the other First's way without saying what was on her mind.

[mythalenaste]

Well, Pel knows when someone's moody. After a trip to the kitchen, she brings up two cups of tea and sits down across from Sina.

"Is something wrong?" she asks gently. Sina's not acting like her shard hurts her.

[eolasemah]

Sina's shard was usually hurting her, and perhaps it made her testy at times, but she was unusually so at the moment. She accepted a teacup, blew on it, and thought for a moment before answering.

"That Templar who was looking for you, at the party," she mused, "...he's courting you, isn't he." She lifted her eyes to meet Pel's, curious but wary, giving her the benefit of the doubt.

Tavern

[aestimo]

With Garris off doing his own thing like they normally often do, Emmie's been left to her own devices. She hasn't been causing any problems, per say, but she has been relieving some of the soldiers of some of their coin. It's not her fault that they're bad at cards.

Once she's taken her fill of sordid card games, Emmeline takes her drink and goes to find another table. Most of the tables are taken, mainly by groups two and greater, but she spies one off to the side with only one person at it. Hopefully the girl won't mind.

"Is the seat taken?" The accent is Orlesian, but the tone is upbeat.

[mythalenaste]

Pel shakes her head. She scoots over on the bench.

"Plenty of room."

[aestimo]

Emmie looks quite pleased when the seat isn't taken, and once Pel is done moving, she slides onto the bench beside the elf. Her drink is set on the table.

"Wonderful, thank you." A pause. "I don't think we've met before. I'm Emmie."

Gardens

[kallian_endris]

Kallian was gathering herbs for compresses and poultices when she noticed the pale figure she recognized as Pel. She approached, a bundle of plants in her arms.

"Good morning," she said, still a little shyly despite their lessons together. "The gardens are nice today, aren't they?"

[mythalenaste]

Pel gives Kallian a faint smile.

"Always. Sina does good work. Sylaise blesses this place every day."

[kallian_endris]

"She does. We talk in the healing tents sometimes."

"Sylaise..." Kallian paused for a moment. "The... Hearthkeeper, yes?" She watches Pel's face, hoping for an affirmative. "...I forgot she oversaw things like gardens. What do her markings look like?"

Balcony

[madame_de_fer]

For a woman who spends a great deal of her time sitting in state on the balcony overlooking the Great Hall, Vivienne hears much of everything going on in Skyhold. Not everything, though she certainly tries to. People do forget that sound carries and gossip happens. Such is the case today and it involves Pel. Pel, who she's coming to care about, almost like a niece, perhaps not a daughter, but concerned enough for her welfare to feel a justified right to meddle.

She's sent along a message to Pel inviting her to tea, an invitation which came with an exceptionally cryptic, 'We must talk.'

When Pel does arrive, she'll see an exquisite spread of tea nibbles set out. More than that, there is a dainty pair of deep green sandals set to one side and the fabric intended for the Council uniforms.

[mythalenaste]

Pel stares at the tea and nibbles. Sandals. Fabric. Sandals and...oh no.

She swallows.

"Lady Vivienne, what's this?"

[madame_de_fer]

"Tea, of course, my dear. Do come have a seat."

Naturally Vivienne's aware that Pel has seen the now unneeded Council uniform and the sandals made to match it. Dalish and their odd notions about footwear is still beyond her comprehension. That is a matter for later.

"I heard the most astonishing news and I felt I must ask you about it directly."

Norrington

[mythalenaste]

It was hours ago that she and Sina fought. Sam and Krem calmed her down, but now she just wants James. Waiting to see him this long has been like a self-test, making sure she is of her own mind and not just reacting emotionally. No. She really wants to see him.

It is very late at night. He's probably asleep when she knocks.

Re: Norrington

[judgemewhole]

He is in fact, asleep when she knocks, but he's a Templar so knocks in the middle of the night immediately wake him. He has already reached for his sword as he moves towards the door, slightly bleary-eyed as he asks in a sleep deepened voice, "Who is it?"

Maker, just don't make it be another abomination.

[mythalenaste]

"It's Pel." She sounds tired and hoarse through the door.

that room where Cassandra almost flipped a table on Varric

[foxsays]

As luck would have it, this is the first time she's managed to sort out a lesson on etiquette since revealing her secret to both Korrin and Zevran, and with that comes the freedom of worrying less should she let something slip. Though the specifics are important and change all too easily, the Game is so much like the politics of home that there's a sense of comfort to be found in it.

Today is masks, though there don't appear to be any in sight but there's a mirror she's borrowed, wrapped carefully in cloth so it can be returned in good condition to the owner as soon as she's done with it.

"I know in Orlais they were masks," she begins, perched on a table as there's a clatter outside in the training yard, "and in a country where I'm from they do too but your own face? That must be the mask too."

The purpose behind the mirror will become clear pretty soon, it's why she picked somewhere with a little more privacy.

[mythalenaste]

Pel nods. That seems to be consistent with her own experience, anyway. School your face. Obviously Araceli is going to take it different places than Pel ever thought.

"But...that's not the same thing as insincerity?"

[foxsays]

"Insincerity has a place, with the nobility especially though in such instances they would take every care to look as sincere as possible." Hopping up from the table, her brows knit together, mouth pulling down at the corners as she sets a hand upon Pel's upper arm, not enough to be a squeeze but more deliberate than just a touch. "There are times when you must give no doubt, no doubt whatsoever that you are anything other than unreservedly theirs, you make assurances, of course you will investigate, how dreadful do people have no standards these days, if there is anything you can do...and you try to get away before they can make real demands that might try to hold you to."

And her own smirk appears as she settles back into being Araceli, weight slung on one hip, hands tucked back into the pockets of her coat.

"Being insincere has just as many merits and drawbacks as sincerity. At the moment, given the present situation," she's talking mage council here, she's not a member beyond waiting at the door for Korrin when it's done but she always listens, nothing since the Abomination has gone unnoticed, "insincerity with certain parties if done carefully leaves you with the odds in your favour."

The Garden

[arlathvhen]

After the conversation with Norrington, she has to speak to Pel. She has to figure out what in the void is going on around here, and what it might mean for the future. So when she sees Pel in the garden, she approaches her. It's quiet here, easier to not be overheard.

"Pel." She says softly, fingers interlacing together cautiously. "Could I have a moment?"

[mythalenaste]

"Always." Pel tucks away her writing and folds her hands in her lap. "Something the matter?"

[arlathvhen]

She doesn't bother to dodge around the subject. She crosses her arms, staring levelly at Pel. "That man. He said he wanted to marry you. Are you? Do you want to?"

library; research

[arcaneadvisor]

Research is something she's often done alone though she's not averse to having a partner for it, and for the freedom afforded without an empress to argue with though, if forced to admit it, she does miss the rather more comfortable surroundings of her rooms in Orlais.

Nowhere in Skyhold is ever truly quiet but she's made do with less as she arrives, several volumes carefully stacked high in her arms that she sets down with great care. Pel is a Keeper, she will know the value of old things and so removing them to somewhere else is less of an issue than it would be for others.

"These are some of what I brought with me," she says instead of a proper greeting as she takes a seat and sets out parchment and inks, slinging a bag over the chair that holds two grimoires and plenty of candles should they be required. "There are more in my rooms but these should be a start, should they not?"

[mythalenaste]

Pel has three tomes spread out across the table, all banned by the Chantry. She nods, captivated by the sight of Morrigan's books, quickly fingering over the spines.

"I haven't even heard of these. The Chantry must have buried them deep."

For Alistair

[mythalenaste]

Ever since Zevran was taken, Pel has been at Merrick's side. When not there, at Sina's. Now, there's Zevran to visit. But Zevran has a lot of visitors, so there isn't much pressure for her to stay with him. Her mind turns to Alistair because she has spent so much time worried over sickbeds, and knows how much of a difference it makes when someone asks if you are okay, if you need anything while your loved one is ill.

She finds him traversing the courtyard and approaches with a little smile.

"Alistair."

[byblow]

"Pel."

He's fine. He has circles under his eyes, but that's normal, and he has both eyes, which is more than Zevran can say. At the moment he's en route to the kitchens, because it takes even more than a recently-tortured best friend to put a Warden off food. He stops, though, and manages a smile for her.