faderift | [closed-ish] we live and dream in an ancient hallowed land

WHO: Sina with Nari, and with Korrin and Araceli (let me know if you want a specific starter)
WHAT: the aftermath of this thread
WHEN: the following night and a few days after
WHERE: the Dahlasanor tent, the tavern, wherever others want
NOTES:The third prompt is open to all!

Directly after her argument with Pel, Sina made a beeline for the tent she shared with Nahariel and all but dove inside, immediately flattening herself against her bedroll and burying her face in her modest pillow. Small, angry crying sounds emanated. (Nari)

The following day, Sina went to the tavern of her own volition for the first time. Not to drink, of course; perhaps it was because it was the last place anyone would look for her. She sat by a window with a cup of tea, her knees drawn up to her chest, melancholy emanating from her very being. (Korrin + Araceli)

Over the next few days, she could be found ghosting around Skyhold, avoiding most people, particularly Clan Ashara. When not out and about, she threw herself into her gardening with a tenacity unusual even to her. (errbody else)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sina hadn't interacted with Galadriel since the first time they'd met, but she had glimpsed her from time to time, always finding a strange comfort in the woman's mere existence.

She stopped fast when Galadriel hailed her, and looked up into her face, finding it difficult to evade a question from one so open. "...asha'dhea," she whispers, "..I... struggle with a burden beyond my mortal understanding."

Galadriel slowed at her answer, a look of concern falling across her features. She had expected some distress, some account of troubling things, but a burden beyond mortal understanding? That was quite a specific turn of phrase and one that was somewhat alarming.

"A burden?" she repeated and tilted her head, just slightly. "What burden is it that weighs on you?"

Only the gods knew, and they were nowhere to be found. Sina could only hope Galadriel would understand, and in a sense, she hoped that the woman was somehow connected to their own Arlathen. She found it difficult to believe that a being such as Galadriel could exist and not be somehow aligned with the Creators, sent as a test or a sign.

"I'm... tasked with maintaining the old ways," she said timidly, "it is our clans' responsibility, and as First of my clan, I will one day be the Keeper of memories. But I..." She looks aside, uncertain of how to proceed. "...I worry that our ways are dying. That our People are straying. Even..." Her breath catches in her throat-- she doesn't want to rat out specifics, but the crux of the issue lies with the other First at Skyhold. "...even those like me. We're losing ourselves and soon there will be none left." Tears glimmer in her eyes, and she ducks her head, having the self-awareness to be ashamed at spilling her woes to a near perfect stranger.

Galadriel had gradually come to understand the Dalish, or so she believed, and the ideas that Sina expressed did not seem so strange. With all that had been changed, with the great losses and dark times, the appeal in tradition, in hanging onto the old and familiar, was something that Galadriel understood well. The Dalish didn't remember the ancient times, those that were lost, so they clung to heritage rather than memory, but their situations were not so different.

Sina ducked her head and Galadriel's expression softened.

"The world changes, sell'nin, and even the very wise and the very powerful cannot preserve all things," Galadriel said kindly. She reached forward and set a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder. "But death is not an ending, and the world is a beautiful place; there will always be new wonders and new darkness to replace the forgotten, it is simply the way of things.

"But do not despair," Galadriel continued. "The Dalish have endured for ages of this world; your people shine brightly and it would take more than straying to extinguish that light."

A thought came to her, then, and Galadriel's brow dipped as she considered Sina.

"I was told that the Dalish lost their written word, and so the memories you keep are fragile, passing things. If it would please you, I would teach you the letters of my homeland, that you might record such things in the manner of the Elves. The Tengwar are not Dalish, true, but they are Elven and you have as much claim to them as I."

Galadriel just had a way about her-- it was amazing Sina had lasted this long before crying. When the woman's hand touched her shoulder, tears began to stream from the young First's eyes, her expression contorting in anguish. There were her people to think of, course-- and then there was the matter of death itself, which she avoided thinking of in any realistic capacity, despite how her shard ached. In a way, saving her people would come only if she could first save herself, and hope was tentative for both.

She pressed her face into her hand and wept lightly, looking up with her eyes desolate when Galadriel spoke again. Sina nodded quickly, and with fervor.

The elf before her burst into round, youthful tears, and hid them behind her hands, but neither could not hide her enthusiasm. Galadriel allowed her a moment to cry without remark, to comment on it would surely count as torment, but Sina's distress had more depth to it than Galadriel had realized. When that moment passed and her tears had not, the elder elf stepped forward and drew the girl into a gentle embrace.

"I shall be glad to teach you," Galadriel assured her earnestly. "I shall be even gladder to read what you will write."

She paused and stared down at Sina's head. She could not see the Dalish elf's face without bending gracelessly.

"I would share the Tengwar with all the elves in this place, if you think they would have them. There is some sense of Home, of belonging that lingers in the written word. I would not keep that from any elf, but I would not add to your burden lightly, either."

Without thinking, Sina returned the embrace. She would later be scandalized at how her tears soaked into Galadriel's clothing, but at present, it was worth it.

Sina stepped back when the other elf began to speak again, a weak smile playing onto her lips, though her eyes were red and her brow still knit with dismay. She nodded again.

"Please," she said, with quiet gravity, "tell me everything."

Sina's sudden expression, serious and grave, was so strange on her face that Galadriel couldn't help but smile. The young elf would be a dedicated student, of that she had no doubt, but even she was not so skilled that she could teach the Tengwar to someone all at once.

"I will," Galadriel assured her. "But perhaps not right this moment, nor right where we stand."

The dimly lit hall was hardly a fitting place to learn letters and Sina had been going about her day. It would not do to upset her tasks, not even for the beauty of written words, and there was no reason to be hasty. Though time moved more quickly for the Dalish, there was time enough for this without rushing.

"I keep many notes in the hall beneath the library. The pages will serve well for practice, and the room is bright and pleasant...if one is not opposed to the calling of crows." With care, Galadriel withdrew her arms and settled her hands before her again. "I spend mid-mornings there, reading while the light is bright and golden. You may join me as you like. I will teach you, and anyone else, should you bring them or they find their way to me."

The correction that Galadriel didn't mean here and now elicited a small laugh from Sina, but not of the mocking sort. Their current surroundings wouldn't be an exceptionally useful study environment. She pulled away when the other woman did, still smiling, a bit more hopefully.

"Ma serannas, asha'dhea," she said softly-- and then, for clarification, "...my thanks, lady of light. Nothing would make me happier."

[closed-ish] we live and dream in an ancient hallowed land

This is lovely!

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