faderift | 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

No--I mean. Um. [Way to already blunder this right from the beginning, Bruce. Real classy.] The picture was already pretty faded, so--

[Varric Tethras. This was Varric Tethras. The Varric Tethras.

Bruce isn't one to swear, but in this situation he feels entirely appropriate to do so. Maker's breath.]

Sorry, I didn't-- [He's pretty much tripping over himself at this point.] --sorry. [Awkward pause.] I probably shouldn't have showed you my copy when it was that battered.

[Smooth, Bruce. Totally smooth.]

[Varric had to admit, this was impressive. He'd never seen anyone trip over themselves while sitting but Bruce managed it. It was like watching a fine Orlesian ballet...as it caught fire.]

Hey, no apology needed. I haven't seen one of those in ages--it was a nice reminder of how terrible our printer used to be. Honestly, I'm impressed it held up this long.

[If Varric was good at anything, he was good at smoothing things over.]

Author sees a book like that and he knows at least one person really enjoyed it. One enthusiastically good review is more than most of my serials get, so we can call it a win.

[Well--at least it seemed like he didn't take it personally. That was good. Bruce relaxes just a fraction, although he still feels pretty bad. He probably should have recognized him instantly, but he hadn't really been keeping in touch with most of Thedas in his years on the run.

It was probably a justifiable reason, but Bruce still felt bad.]

Still--sorry. [Yes, Bruce still feels really bad about it.] I, uh. I like your stuff. Sometimes when I don't feel good I read it-- ['it' being Hard in Hightown] --and, um. It helps.

[........yeah, that could be done a lot better.]

[Andraste's Ass, if there was a way to make this conversation more strained and awkward, Varric couldn't think of it. The Seeker could stroll through and jam a knife straight through that book and it would still be a less tense moment than this one.

Varric drew a deep breath and fought the urge to grimace sympathetically--Maker knew this guy? Probably wouldn't notice the sympathetic part of the grimacing.

It bore a moment of thinking. If this guy had a book that dog-eared and that old, he'd read it a few times--hell, probably a few hundred times. Varric was probably the only other person who'd read Hard in Hightown quite that many times over and he couldn't really appreciate the whole escapism thing as much as, well, literally anybody else.

If this guy had read that book that much, and it helped him out, Varric wasn't about to ruin that for him.

After a beat, Varric grinned, wide and welcoming. Surprise was something he could manage, it was a believable transition from stunned silence.]

You know I don't think I've ever gotten a better compliment than that, that really means something.

[Startlingly, that was the honest truth.]

I like you, Bruce--shit, now that won't work. I'll have to come up with something better to call you from now on. Anderfels? No, too on the nose.

I can't just swing by to harass you and call you Anderfels. I can do better than that. How about--Hightown?

Could work--I was hoping Scout Harding would volunteer for that one but, you know, she's really more of a Marigold.

[The silence that comes after his words is kind of incredibly awkward. Bruce could already feel the embarrassment starting to rise up within him. He really, really, probably shouldn't have said any of that. Maker, he probably should have just left earlier or something.

He starts to debate if he should try and excuse himself out somehow, but before he can decide on anything Varric talks again and--

--well.

That... didn't sound as bad as he thought.]

I--uh. [It takes a moment for him to process what Varric is talking about, and it clicks only after a couple more seconds.] --just Bruce is fine. Really.

[It's already kind of a nickname, as it is. Seeing as Bruce is nothing close to his real name.]

[Varric gives him a look, the sort of look that really sums up just how low the odds of him getting out of this one are.]

Come on, you really want me to call you Bruce over drinks? Too formal.

[Varric shook his head and, as if just remembering that he'd been waiting for someone, cast a glance back at the gatehouse. There was no way that merchant was going to deliver today. If that guy was trying to stiff him--right, chatting.]

I'll come up with something. Until then, you just stop by upstairs sometime. [Varric motioned vaguely at the Great Hall as he spoke.] I'll get you a spare copy of that book. You know, just in case.

At the moment, however, I've got some more angry letters to write, but it's been a pleasure chatting with you Hightown.

[That wasn't going to stick, shame. Eh, he could do better.]

[It's hardly formal at all, Bruce would want to protest, but its incredibly hard to do so when the person you're trying to protest to happens to be Varric Tethras. And especially considering everything else that had happened...

Saying that he doesn't really drink probably isn't going to help him here, either.

All Bruce can really do in the end is to just sort of nod to Varric's words, a part of him still caught in the disbelief that this could actually be real. In fact, it all felt very surreal. Bruce was pretty sure he'd continue to feel it for a good while longer.]

I--yes. [He starts, already trying not to feel too tongue tied.] Thank you, again. It was--very nice to meet you.

[Sorry Varric, he's really usually a lot more eloquent than this.]

Skyhold

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