faderift | Skyhold

Skyhold

WHO: Anyone & everyone
WHAT: Open post for business as usual around Skyhold
WHEN: The first couple weeks of Harvestmere, 9:41 (aka October)
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Please mark any necessary content warnings in thread subject lines. Also, make sure to check out the other log posts already made!

Far from the glamorous adventurous world-saving people signed up for, most of the hustle and bustle in Skyhold at present is cleaning. The Great Hall is a disaster, and crews are assigned to haul out the cracked and rotting planks fallen from the wide-open roof, and tear down the vines covering the walls. Ivy encrusts the main staircase outside and many of the fortress walls and is cleared in section while other groups assess or begin shoring up the stonework as it's revealed. There are scaffolding to build, materials to sort, crates to unload, tents to stitch together or set-up, and on and on and on, endless mundane chores vital to the survival of the organization.

When not hard at work, people cluster around fires across the courtyards. Many mingle freely, going about their business, running errands and messages, planning scouting missions, tallying up supplies, distributing or playing with the sending crystals that were found in a basement vault and which a group of mages have just today finished preparing for use. Once a good number have been passed around and the first Inquisition-wide transmission made messages start being broadcast; maybe you can help someone out.

The rebel mages and renegade templars mainly keep to themselves at opposite sides of the complex given the choice. Mages assist with healing and research and bicker amongst themselves about their options and their fate. Templars help train recruits in swordforms and basic combat techniques or spar with the more advanced and bicker amongst themselves about their options and their fate. Despite having all pledged themselves to the Inquisition, they still feel like separate factions and tension between them is palpable wherever they cross paths.

Like at meals, or the communal message board in the courtyard, or at the Herald's Rest. The mess hall/tavern is so new it still smells of sawdust, and its stock has been limited to one type of strong ale until today, when a shipment of West Hill brandy has finally arrived. The mood in the place is convivial in celebration of that, but there's still plenty of muttering, especially as the night drags on and the discontented get further into their cups.

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'Keeping watch'. The phrase is a little unsettling and it makes him look over his shoulder to stare at the shadows in the hall. The silence suddenly feels rather intimidating when he thinks about this woman forgoing sleep for protection.

There's a concerned frown on his face by the time he turns back around, and slowly Sam sinks into a crouch. He probably looks rather silly at how he settles on the balls of his feet, hands on his knees, and trying to be as small as possible. For him it's comfortable and normal, but then again he's never had to watch himself do this.

"Is there someone bothering you?"

"..." Suddenly the 'dove' is all the more apt a descriptor- how he makes himself so much smaller. Like a child attempting to avoid notice from minders, endearing in it's familiarity.

"Not particularly. But...there are templars everywhere." And she has apprentices sleeping behind the door she guards that have not yet had their harrowing- or have only recently passed. Mages that saw more than thy ought of their cruelty. "They sleep easier knowing I'm here. Watching. I sleep easier, later, knowing they've been watched."

A look of understanding eases away the frown on his face. Sad, at knowing the feeling and that it keeps the woman up at night instead of getting the rest she deserves.

Hearing the word 'they' has Sam blinking though, and his head lifts up to look at the door that LeBlanc is leaning against, as if seeing it for the first time.

Oh. She must be referring to the children and young adults that came with her. This is hardly the place for them, but there isn't anywhere to send them. No where is safe, and it is better for them to stay with an elder they are familiar with.

Looking back down he tilts his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Would you like company then? I don't think sleep is going to find me tonight. You could enjoy your book a bit easier then?"

Better here than Andoral's reach. Those that remained there were finding somewhere else to camp. Some risked Tervinter. Some attempted to reach Fereldan. Those that needed her and wanted to help the Inquisition? She brought. She couldn't let them travel on their own and perhaps here they might be able to study in peace.

But there are so many templars. It's disconcerting.

"...another pair of eyes is appreciated, Sam. Thank you." It's a kindness she didn't expect- but appreciates all the same. Enough that she flips the book closed in favor of tipping her head to the floor next to her. "Please, sit."

Taking the offer, Sam not so much slides but crawls to the spot LeBlanc is motioning for him to take. It takes a little time for him to find a comfortable position, hands resting in his lap, legs spread out in front of him, but he eventually does so.

It's quiet for a time. Now that he's here and actually talked to the older woman, he feels... a bit homesick. She reminds him of his aunt. Granted the accent is all wrong, but, it's the motherly feeling that she gives off. It doesn't help to quiet his mind though, only opens more doors for when/if he falls asleep.

He sighs, then turns his head to look at the woman next to him. "You're very amazing you know. Taking care of all those people... then still seeing to others even after the fires have died down."

For a moment, however brief, it's almost like home. The hall is nowhere near as opulent, the temperature far too cold but- beyond the door the apprentices and mages sleep soundly, shushed from night terrors by the eldest that will take her place come the predawn. She has company that understands, to some degree, her wariness. It's familiar.

And it stings to remember how the halls had changed so quickly in the Spire. She's grateful when Sam breaks the silence.

"Compassion." A beat. "I am a spirit healer, and the spirit I work with to heal is Compassion. They are...terribly particular as to how I am to spend my time. If it will not be a detriment to my health and I've strength left in me and there is someone that needs mending? I am to mend them."

It could be a burden, that onus. But having time to work and those that need it help her from thinking of home.

Ah, so that was why he could hear louder whispers when he was around her. Different, but similar. A kindred 'spirit'. A goofy smile spreads on Sam's face at the pun, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

"I see. I'm afraid I only hear their whispers." A sad smile then, remembering how often he was distracted as a kid by the soft noises in his ear and the other kids making fun of him for 'imaginary friends'. Remembering when the words started to become more clear when he actually started to learn magic, eyes watching him more closely for being able to hear them.

"I don't think my magic is... strong enough? for any particular one to want to partner up with me."

"That is a start. Not many mages can. And from even their whispers there is much that you might learn." It is where she started as a child, hearing things- seeing images in her dreams. Even at the circle it took time and study to understand enough to be able to take it further- something she never would have managed on her own. As a place of study they served an excellent purpose.

Without them...how are mages such as Sam to learn to make the most of their Maker given skills?

She extends a hand, a small whisp of light flaring to life over her palm. Soft, faintly blue, a little bit of Compassion. "It takes focus to understand- it's less of a question of strength and more one of comprehension. And afterward? Of agreement. We have rules, Compassion and I. I heal those I can and I do not use my magic to do harm. Ever. Defend, deflect, mend- certainly. But I cannot hurt another person with my magic. Not every spirit is the same and you may find another spirit with different requirements- or one that seeks you out because your soul sings to them. It's different for everyone."

Sam tilts his head at the extended hand, watching as the LeBlanc calls out for a bit of her Spirit to show itself. It doesn't give off any heat, but Sam feels... warm. "Hm."

He listens intently to the woman's words, eyes a bit mesmerized by the magic - it was soft but sure. Compassion and her had good rules. Sam could appreciate what they had and what they would and wouldn't do. Maybe that was his issue.

"Huh. It makes sense. Perhaps that's why I'm having trouble, or they're having trouble..." he shrugs, leaning on a hand. "Just not finding the right fit?" He looks up with a smile. "Seems like I can't fit into any ol' mold."

"If the mold does not suit you, make your own." The light dances around her fingertips, idly playful. "Spirits are...certainty. They are what we perceive them to be- if you feel they will not find you for whatever reason? They will not. Compassion makes sense to me when little else does as we keep it quite simple. I had a mentor that charmed his spirit in, and there was another that earned the trust of their partner by proving his valor, his honesty."

She turns her eyes to him, lips curled faintly in a smile. "You are kind. You care. That matters a great deal. Unlike here where intent cannot always see you through, for spirits? Intent is everything."

He hadn't thought of it that way. Uncertainty kept them away? That was... deep. He was pretty certain who he was, but he just wasn't certain about... others? The uncertainty of where he stood among others to put it simply? Maybe this was just harder right now because he couldn't sleep.

Sam finds himself blushing lightly when LeBlanc looks up at him, complimenting him about being kind and caring. Out of habit his other hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. "Ah... thank you."

Edited 2015-10-21 00:28 (UTC)

"You are welcome." A beat passes as the light in her hand fades. He could learn so much more if they had the Circle. If her mentors were still alive. If everything wasn't falling apart around them. "I could teach you. If you wished to learn more- to hear and understand them better. Find your partner."

'I could teach you.'

His eyes widen at the statement. There's more with it, but it's that simple phrase that gets his heart beating a bit faster. "Really?!"

Sam winces as his voice bounces off the walls. He hadn't meant to be loud, it was... he had a hard time keeping it in at times. Especially with an offer like that. "Really?" He asks softer, eyes wide with excitement. "That would be... I would appreciate that very, VERY much."

It startles a laugh out of her- brief, bright, and rare. She hasn't had cause to laugh in some time. It feels strange to do so, and while she tucks it away quickly enough her eyes are still on him and still warm. It takes some of the tension from her, smooths some of the years from her face.

Makes her feel a little more like who she used to be.

"I teach them in the mornings after my daily meditations before we move to the healing tents. Right now most are on individual studies and drills, we would have plenty of time to go through the basics."

It's short, but it was distinctively a laugh. The sound threatens to have Sam's smile widen, but he quickly reins in some of his good mood. People are trying to sleep after all.

"I... that, sounds wonderful." He was going to be able to learn again. Without having to be behind cold stone walls and watching eyes. "Where do you usually do your lessons?"

"The garden, after breakfast. It's quiet there and no one bothers us. The others like the chance to practice in the light." Among green things and the living energies of plants. "They already like you plenty, you'll fit right in. And it should not be so long that you will not be able to do your work in the forge, yes?"

Balancing that seems to be important to Sam- Adelaide understands well the need for something other than magic in a mage's world.

He blinks at that. Oh right, he would be learning with the other mages under her care. He gives a nervous chuckle at that. "Ah, well I hope I'm not too much of a distraction. A couple of them find it a game to see if they can climb me." He supposed it was because he was so tall. Sam found it cute, and it gave him the idea of what having younger siblings might be like.

At the mention of the forge he nods, his smile growing a bit sad again. "My father was a blacksmith and he started to teach me before I went to the Circle. Kind of keeps me connected, you know? Well.. that and I like the work."

"I will try to keep them on their best behavior but- it is good for them to act their age when they can." To be told they were abominations in the making, monsters, dangerous-children should feel like children. Even if only for a little while. "I hope you do not mind it."

They should manage well enough, the apprentices were attentive- doubly so after what happened in the Spire. "Perhaps we might make that a point in your training. Sometimes what you know best, what resounds within you may resound within the fade as well."

"No. I don't have any siblings and I was pretty different then the other mages at Ostwick... it feels nice to have some fun. Even if I'm just supposed to be a mountain or something."

He hums thoughtfully at the idea of combining his passion of the forge with his magic. How did that even work. "I suppose. A happy medium between the two would be interesting to see."

"A giant." She offers. "Henri, our youngest-" A little redhair'd elf roughly twelve years old "Read stories about Giant hunters and wanted to know why they didn't simply try to befriend them. He'll adore you."

Everything is giant to Henri. It makes Adele fear for what might come should anyone force a round of Harrowings. "Each mage that I know of starts with the primal or elemental schools as they are the most distinct- from there understanding helps them find their specialty in the other schools. I started with the Cold, Ice. It helped me find the clarity to hear what the Spirits were trying to say. If you are most comfortable in a forge, pehaps there is something to that."

"Well... then I shall try to be the best giant I can be." Course he's never seen a giant so it'll be strictly up to his imagination. Maybe a friendly one?

There's a grin starting to spread on Sam's face as Lady LeBlanc starts to give him some tips about where to start. He knows where she is going with this, but he knows better than to interrupt. She has a point to make. "You can say that. I started using fire at an early age; kind of set the shed at home on fire once. I learning that particular element until they found that I was better withe Spirit magic. They kind of focused on that after that. I did dabble in some Ice as well when I could." He chuckles. "I think my entire person is based on extremes, honestly."

"Mm. That may be a part of why you are having trouble. Compassion is Compassion. Justice is Justice. To us there are many shades of what is just and what is kind, but in the fade? It is a single, pure thing coalesced into an entity. They can be something else for a short while but it isn't comfortable. Nuance isn't lost on them but they have no use for it. Finding one, pure, certain point for yourself? Hammer on that, project that, and you may find they speak clearer." It is different for everyone, truly, but Sam has potential if he can hear spirits whispering.

The trick then is learning how to whisper back.

Sam nods and lets out a breath of air, bringing up his hands to rub at his face. It was a lot to take in at the moment, even if he wasn't tired. "Ah... well this is going to be most difficult." He sounds a bit frustrated, but not distressed by the challenge. It was just going to take some time.

"There is a reason there are so few of us. But you hear them without having to reach out, you've studied the Spirit school of magic- you are halfway there." It's a tentative thing, the way her hand reaches out to rest on his shoulder. There and gone, alight and slipping away like a bird on it's perch. "I am certain that with guidance and patience? You will manage."

He feels it, soft, warm, comforting, but it is a light and fleeting thing. He doesn't comment on it. He's already asking her for too much already; he cannot ask for more. "Thank you."

Pulling his hands away he looks at Lady LeBlanc tiredly. "It feels good to know I will have direction again."

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