faderift | open: something grabs ahold of me tightly

open: something grabs ahold of me tightly

WHO: Inquisition Forces
WHAT: Inquisition forces cross the mountains into Orlais to deal with Emprise du Lion
WHEN: Wintermarch 25 onward
WHERE: EMPRISE DU LION
NOTES: This is a mingle-style log for the Inquisition camps, local tavern, and general/open Inquisition work, etc.

This time they hike down to the west, but the trip through the mountains is no easier. The snow is heaped up about the road where wagons have pushed it aside, stomped into slippery pack beneath the feet and hooves that have gone before. Of the main track it is ankle deep at best and in places it drifts, waist-deep on a tall man and enough to bury a dwarf who hasn't come prepared with snowshoes. Everywhere the wind howls, biting cold, and the sky hangs low, a pale flat grey that makes it difficult to judge distances. Those who know winter weather call it a snow sky, and near-daily squalls prove them right.

They set up camp in Sahrnia, across the broad expanse of frozen river that has trapped the villagers here upstream. Tents pop up in rows and in the shells of tumbled-down buildings, fires blazing and thawing the ground to mud. When the supply wagons roll in they re-open the local tavern, brightly lit with flaking paint on the walls that might once have been colorful and patterned tiles on the floor that seems to swim like an optical illusion after too many glasses of the cheap red wine that fills the cellars.

Even deadlier reds hold the hills: Red Templar sightings have been frequent and it is said they are operating in several locations in the region in significant force. Some of these men and women have become hulking, crystalline beasts. Many others are in the earlier stages of corruption: red-veined and -eyed, aggressive and superhumanly strong, but still visibly human and coherent if spoken to. Red lyrium is even easier to find, jutting out of the ground or cliffsides, filling caves-- the Tower of Bone, a fortress that has stood for centuries, now threatens to split from the inside out. The area's wildlife was none too friendly before, but now the wolves and bears have begun to be corrupted by the lyrium and many will attack on sight, without provocation. (The snofleurs that bumble harmlessly around the river seem unaffected.)

Everywhere there are ruins: broken bridges, crumbling colosseums, and the great hulking mass of Suledin's Keep tucked between the distant hills. Scouts reported that Red Templars hold it as well.

RIFTER ARRIVAL - SAHRNIA - THE HILLS - TOWER CAMP - A HANDY MAP

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Her expression is instantly remorseful, as she kneejerk response shifted the conversation to her own feelings, when Araceli's should take precedence. It's her mark, after all, and her fate attached to it. So she tries to calm herself again, reaching up to rest a hand on one cupping her face, trying to be strong and reassuring again. It's needed, and she won't let Araceli down.]

I have to believe that luck will hold, Araceli. Whatever might happen, it hasn't happened yet. Sina's a mage but you're not, and that distance might give you more protection, too. If you refrain from using that mark and exposing yourself to the rifts more than you must, that might help as well. [Might. She's not completely sure. At least it ought not to put her in double jeopardy, and that's...something.] And you're never alone, Kadan. You have me, always.

Will I always have a choice? Several of us have to work at once to close any rifts that are found, I can’t avoid that prospect forever. [It would be selfish to always leave it up to others if they’re all placed at risk; selfishness isn’t a vice for her, but only when it comes to following her heart and to living life to the fullest. All of them at that meeting proved they were in the same boat, so to speak, and so if she needs to she’ll still say yes. Jamie seems unscathed and she’s heard no bad reports so maybe it’s just a magical thing like Korrin says.] We think of our bodies as parts - the heart and the head and the gut all arguing, Sina was upset not long before this, more upset than I have ever seen her. Can magic and emotion react from each other? I know that people can die of a broken heart, losing all will to go on, it could be something like that only whatever grief or anger or conflict she felt.

[It was a Dalish thing, Araceli wanted to pry but bit her tongue, trying to put it together anyway from the scraps she knows but what she felt? Araceli’s seen the aftermath of her own tempers, the strength she doesn’t think she has most days, the ferocity when she fights, the exhaustion when it’s over and she’s done, left alone with the consequences.]

I know, sirena, I know. [Her arms open, wanting to be held, not wanting to feel small but to feel safe, as if the whole world could be just this tent and those in it, nothing and no one else to trouble them.]

[It would be selfish indeed to have others take on such a risk and yet hope that Araceli shields herself from it. Korrin knows her kneejerk response can't be a reality, but the thought of the woman she loves possibly endangering herself worse through rift exposure causes a silent heartache. Araceli's right, and she knows it, but that lump in her throat still remains.

Responding to those open arms, Korrin slips her own around Araceli as she guides them into laying down upon a bedroll. That has to be more comfortable and warmer, too, when she spares an arm briefly to drape a fur blanket around them. Now she's ready to be that Vashoth pillow that Araceli needs, holding her close in those strong but gentle arms and brushing her lips against that forehead.]

You're not wrong about magic and emotion, not at all. An untrained mage can potentially cause a lot of damage if they let their emotions get the better of them. To contend with both magic and a shard has to be an enormous strain.

When I first came into my magic, I tended to zap things accidentally when I was frustrated. One or twice, I set fire to someone's hair in the middle of an argument. As emotional as I can be now, I was a lot worse then and the consequences greater. Control is the first and most important thing a mage must learn, and the test is neverending.

Edited 2016-02-13 01:02 (UTC)

[Pressing her face to Korrin's throat, she closes her eyes for a moment, too keyed up to sleep but she can feel her pulse against her lips and it helps her own heart to settle and steady again. More tears might come when the shock of it wears off, the quiet soundless kind but right now she's strangely calm and happier to be moved than to do anything of her own volition.]

Please never set my hair on fire, no one wants to see me with short hair, it puffs out and makes me look stupid. [It's a weak joke but there's bound to be a time or two where they're going to find themselves at loggerheads, and Araceli knows that she's not graceful when she's angry. For someone who loves the water and flows with it, she's awful when she's angry. Things tend to get broken, she loses her voice from yelling, she even looks for fights if it's bad enough.]

Do things happen if mages have nightmares? I know that the Fade and dreams and mages are all connected, Bruce told me that, and there was a boy? He said things about songs. The Fade singing things in my dreams? I don't know, I don't even remember his face properly now.

[Korrin doesn't expect either of them to sleep, not with this news fresh in their minds, but at least she can make Araceli comfortable. Even if true rest continues to elude them, she'll take it moment by moment. Turning her head toward her, she breathes in the scent of Araceli's hair, feels the warmth of her skin against her lips when she kisses that forehead.

Araceli's comment about a boy has her brow furrowing. That doesn't sound familiar, though maybe it should.]

Who?

And sometimes things can happen, especially if the mages is untrained or has poor control. I've heard of mages causing curtains to catch fire, or ice covering their blankets. My incidents were more lightning-related, as you might have guessed. I swear that hasn't happened in well over a decade, though. You have nothing to fear from me on that end.

[Reaching up, she runs her hand through Araceli's hair in a soothing, repetitive motion.]

Long hair or short, you would always be devastatingly beautiful to me.

Big floppy hat. Not like a pirate hat, just this big brim [as best she can from her position she draws it out around her head, eyes shut to help her remember better because she's more honest with her face when it’s just her and Korrin about] and his face was hidden. I took such a fright I thought my heart had burst. I don't know why I don't remember much of him, not even the name, the harder I think, the more it slips from my fingers.

[It had been a normal day, a quiet day, about the time Korrin had first left for Emprise du Lion and Araceli had sat sharpening her blades in the quiet down by the stables.

Like Lux would - which one of them got their mannerisms from the other? - she presses her head up, eyes closed, something like a smile on her face.]

You have never seen me as a girl of six, it was terrible, my father's hurl curls much tighter, my mother has looser waves, I sit somewhere between and it doesn't look good at all when it's cut.

I remember something about a large hat...but the details aren't coming to me, either. It must be all the stress.

[They can't possibly know everyone in the Inquisition anyway, right? Even if it is odd that he caught Araceli of all people by surprise.

Noting the Lux-like motion, a fond smile curves her lips. It's a relief to see one or something closer to one- on Araceli as well, and though she knows the strain of this won't go away, at least she can have this moment.]

And yet, I'm sure you were adorable and charmed your way into everyone's hearts, just as you do now. My own hair wasn't quite that difficult, but it'd never cooperate as much mother hoped it would. She took to putting mine in cornrows just to keep it out of the way. I hated it, mostly because I was never good at sitting still for the length of time it took to do it properly.

[Well Araceli might at least try her hardest to know enough to match a name to every face, perhaps even what weapon they fight with. If she can know as many captain, as many fences, tavern owners, whores, contacts, nobles as she does? She can learn. It might be helpful given the plans she has when she returns to Skyhold again, though she doesn't know quite how to bring any of those up yet.]

As if I would be anything less than charming; I was adorable, tempestuous, I was the daughter of a Bride of good reputation and one of the truest Sons ever to sail a ship. There were jokes about me that my father's crew would tell, about how I had to be the sea's thief if I stole so many hearts before I was born. [Araceli is very much her parents in that regard, and very much the sea in the eyes of people Korrin will never meet. Thoughts to push away, more letters to write on the nights she doesn't sleep well or when the days in Skyhold get too long.] I used to love when my mother would do my hair, but she had this big beautiful dresser I would get to sit at, she would always pinch my cheeks and make me laugh. I hope you are more patient now though, when I find some pins worthy of you.

[Araceli can talk about home and family as much as she wants, always. Korrin is ever eager to listen, though she tries not to go overboard with her prying, not wanting to make her homesickness even worse. But that's difficult, when one comment tends to spawn half a dozen questions. She chuckles softly at that joke and holds her closer, imagining that dresser as one of those fancy Orlesian sort she's seen in noble's houses.]

We didn't have one of those, and I always hated staying put when I knew other children in the caravan were out and playing. What is sitting still and getting my hair fixed, to battles with wooden swords?

But for you, kadan, I would be eternally patient. My hair is yours to do with as you please, since I know I can always trust your excellent taste. And who knows, maybe there'll be an occasion worthy of your skill. What would you even do with it, though?

[If she had the patience she could probably draw her mother’s dresser from memory but for now she finds herself tracing it on Korrin’s skin, the delicate slopes of the shells. The drawers with their seahorse handles full of brushes, pots, jars, tubes, the times she would sneak in and make up her own face when she was little before her mother taught her how to do it properly, how to change her face with only a few sweeps of powder in the right place.]

Hers was so beautiful, it’s made of driftwood that’s been sanded down and painted, shaped like a shell. The surface is pearl and the mirrors have mermaids with long gold hair, any little girl would feel like a princess. I was a restless wild girl too but I’ve always loved someone touching my hair if they do it gently, it was usually before bed or a bath that she’d have to catch me. You must have been such a bold girl, no?

The rift was rude to bring me here with such empty pockets; I have so many pins that would suit you, shells or the shape of them, sweeping your hair up into twists and braids. I could wrap some about your horns to sit loose with beads and trinkets, to coil one about your whole head to keep it out of the way, I bet I could wrap it when wet so the curls would hold.

[Although it might be uncomfortable but she’d like to see Korrin like that, even just once. But home does make her homesick so she tips her face up, a little look of pleading on her face.]

Tell me about you, growing up in the caravan, what your parents do. Were you always on the move as a girl?

[Korrin can't refuses that pleading look, of course. It's not possible. She pauses her gentle fingers running through Araceli's hair long enough to brush those lips against hers.]

Me? I was such a brat. My parents left the Qun when they were young, barely old enough to be assigned to anything, but they still had no idea how this parenting thing worked and had to learn from the ground up. They tended to think that any rules were a throwback to the Qun, so I had nearly unlimited freedom. The only real rule was that I couldn't join them in battle until I had the proper training.

Dad is a warrior, with a huge maul that I tried to lift when I was little and never could. I'm still not sure I could do it. Mom duel-wields daggers, striking so swiftly that they never see her coming. I thought I'd be an archer, both to round them out and because it appealed to me. [And then magic came and caused her to unleash lightning at a pack of wolves ambushing her, but then Araceli already knows that part.] I have a 'grandmother', too. Not through blood, as far as we know, but she was a former tamassran who defected and helped my parents transition into Tal-Vashoth life. If I get anything from her, it's the attitude. And yes, she's still alive, old and batty and with a way worse mouth than I could ever have.

And yes, we were almost always on the move, only staying in one place long enough to complete a job. Discrimination motivated some of that, sure, but wanderlust was also pretty well ingrained at that point. There was always something new to see elsewhere, so why stay put? The only places we never touched were Tevinter and Qunari-held lands, but everywhere else? Fair game. From the blasted lands of the Anderfels to the noble estates in Orlais to the shores of Rivain, we went wherever we were needed...or simply felt like going.

[Her lips curve into a smile, as Rivain comes to mind.] On days when we were in Rivain and they weren't needed for a job, we'd go to the beach. It's so warm there, nothing like this frozen mess; blue skies and white sands. I'd run as far and as fast as I could, and by the end of it all, we'd be collapsed in one sandy, exhausted pile. Good times.

That is always so strange, to be assigned. To be told 'this is what you are to us, this is all you will be'. [With Korrin's stories about what happens to mages under the Qun she can't picture another Korrin. She would be a word, not a person, not a name, she wouldn't even have a name in the first place. Not a face or a voice, a mouth forever shut and hidden. It's worse than death to her. Her own life has been what she wanted it to be after her parents did enough to give her the space to choose, and to only have on path that begins at birth and never veers until death? It’s like ripping out everything that makes a person real, vibrant and wonderful and alive.] Not even guidelines? A code perhaps.

[She's teasing, but she was brought up with rules if any to learn how to make them hers, bending and breaking and slipping through the holes before they could close around her. Her parents were never together and yet they were, the same lessons, a different style, she can't imagine what it would be like to grow as Korrin did.]

It does sound like you, to be raised by fighters. Our parents give us a shape, what we do with that is still up to us though. [A shame she can’t do more than describe her parents because it was only after her friends met them that they really understood parts of who Araceli is, not the sum of two people but still undeniably theirs.] Tamassrans are the ones that do the decision-making when someone is little, yes? They would be the last people I thought I would hear of leaving such a life if they have influence over how it even manages to continue.

My father has never slept a single night on land, I think that is close. There was nothing more solid than a deck, and a deck sits upon the waves as you know. I’ll never understand this being cruel to a person because of how they look or what they pray to or don’t pray to, be cruel because they’re a miserable person that would sell their own mother for the right price, or because they believe that their way is right and the only way and want to bend everyone else to it. Not for any other reason. [Hearing about sands makes something ache deep in her bones and she stretches, toes arching, fingers curling; she has had those days almost every day, barefoot and laughing.] There are few things better than lying back and letting the sun sink into every inch of you that it can touch, when all the world behind your eyes goes red as your own heart.

[Korrin smiles as Araceli stretches against her, in full agreement with her sentiment even as she'll never have the bond with the sea that her rifter love does. But she doesn't need to possess that to understand it's part of Araceli's life and soul; it's obvious every time she speaks of her homeland, whether a story or stray comment.]

I can't argue with that, kadan. If I can, I'll take you to that particular beach someday. I have no doubt it's as gorgeous as it was then. Those within reach will have to do; even though it's not as warm in the south, winter is waning. You'll get to feel that sun again, I promise. [She sighs softly, now missing it as well. It's only been a handful of months since she was up north, but in the cold landscape, it feels like forever.] If only more thought as you do, Thedas wouldn't be such a harsh place. I wonder if it was ever any better, in ancient times, or if there were was always this kind of crap to put up with. Who knows.

[Her thoughts turning to family again, Korrin shrugs gently so as not to dislodge Araceli.] Tama said she never wanted that role, that it was decided for her like everything else. I could never get her to talk much about her life back then, but she did say that it wasn't any one incident that made her walk. It was a bunch of little things, until one day she was on an outing with her kids and decided there was no reason for them to return. Just how they slipped away and were never caught, I have no idea, but she's crazy resourceful. If anyone could have done it, it'd be her. [There's a grin of admiration on her lips, for the woman as tough as nails.]

My parents had nothing on me, but she could get me to behave sometimes. And she was the one to stress as much of a code as I'd ever put up with; namely, not to pick fights I had no chance of winning, and to look out for more than just myself. She said Tal-Vashoth had enough of a terrible reputation because outside the Qun, they didn't know how to function and a lot just gave into wild banditry. So, it was up to us to counter that with a better example.

Edited 2016-02-24 00:38 (UTC)

You people and your talk of distant shores, Zevran promised me Antiva too, perhaps I should just ask if some of us can sail to look for rifts beyond these dismal places, no? [All lands are allegedly beautiful so perhaps it's only circumstance that has her not delighting in going to new places but Korrin isn't from any of the places she's been, so there's no risk of offending her.]

I will hold you to it. [The air of finality is only teasing, no one can know the future beyond knowing that the sun will rise and the moon will wax and wane, that the tides will lap the shores. Such is the way of things.] I want you to see me by the sea, where I should be, it isn't that I'm less - I can only be me - but at the same time I think I'm more when I'm close to it, it's difficult to explain, forgive me.

It makes me sad that this world is so harsh. There is so much beauty in it; I have heard wonderful stories, met wonderful people, I have seen things that only existed in a story or not even at all yet there is so much blood, so much violence. You are all people. You have blood and hearts and bone. Bodies were not given to us for violence. [With a little squirming she can slide her hands down Korrin's sides, over her ribs pausing to feel her heart beating, then down to her hips, thumbs rubbing circles as she continues.] The sea runs in all our veins because we came from it, so we are all one blood where I come from. The sea gives us life so that we can be fruitful, that we can be like it: wild one moment, calm the next. Bodies were made for coming together, for love and passion. The sea embraces all so how can we do any less?

[Youth makes things so much more simple; she's young, younger than most of the folk she spends her time with here instead of being around friends but she's always had love, has had hands to catch her when she falls.]

Perhaps one day I'll have the chance to meet her, she must know so many things. Not just about before but...but making a new life. Taking those steps. Those are the people with voices that should be heard, not the ones still saying 'this is how it was and always should be'. The world we wake in is not the same world when we go to sleep, it always changes, we remember, we love, we respect and we adapt. My people lost the empire below the waves but then we built ships, we found other lands, we built on what was left but our songs are full of joy instead of mourning. [Something about being here just with Korrin makes it easier to find the words that have found a place to grow in the quiet spaces when she sits on the roof of Skyhold, when she writes letters home or her notes for her fellow rifters. Thedas is mired in the past, bogged down.

The last part has her smiling, a sentiment she can understand all to well these days.]

On that I agree, I was taught much the same when I learned to shoot and to duel though I am very fast and light so I was also taught to cheat or to run as fast as I could. Here I worry about rifters like myself, there are so many who must hear stories about how we have come to this world and a reputation is a dangerous beast to maintain when we are so many and so different. I would never wish to be the one to blacken any of our names.

[Araceli's touch is always very welcome, and Korrin sighs contentedly as those light, nimble fingers make their way down to her hips. Her own drift from combing through the rifter woman's hair with utmost gentleness to trail down her back in soothing motions. There's no demand in them for anything other than the closeness they already share.]

I know you wouldn't, you're always thinking beyond yourself. That's one of the reasons I fell for you, that and your zest for life. It's an irresistible combination. [She brushes her lips against Araceli's forehead.] I don't know what's going to come of all this, but I can promise I won't stand idly by if anyone tries to chip away at their -your- freedom. Advocating mage freedom only to slam the door on everyone else is a hypocrisy I won't put up with. The Inquisition has to be better than that.

[She frowns in thought about that, unsure exactly what to do, but she won't let that tension return if she can help it.] I've already told Tama about you, and she's made it clear I'd better introduce you two at some point. Making a new life is something she'd understand all too well, and she probably has ideas on that which have never occurred to me. And no, she doesn't care that you came beyond the Fade. 'Is she part of keeping the south from going to shit? Then that's good enough for me.' The woman's seen demons enough -literal and otherwise- in her time; she knows not to waste her time creating enemies where there are none. If only other people were that practical.

[There's a slight, huff of melancholy amusement at that, as her mind drifts back to other things said.] You know, that's an excellent point, about rifts beyond our normal reach. They aren't just going to go away, and they have to be causing a lot of chaos with demons pouring out of them whenever. If the Inquisition can look into that, perhaps send small teams to take care of them, then it'd give me a chance to show you more of Thedas. I can't guarantee it'd be any saner than what you've seen already, but if it helps you be more when you're close to those waves, it'd be well worth it."

We live our lives as we see fit but when times are bad, every Castilean must be able to work together, to crew a ship or to run the docks. This is how we alone stopped a war; each and every ship we had sailed after those who sought to crush us as they had other nations, the rest stayed behind the walls and gates we raised until the war had ended. By all accounts it was difficult but a crisis pulls us close and tight. [Because again, their blood is the sea, they share it, they live by eat, they welcome a guest to the home with bread and salt on the threshold, that she cannot do the same here - that she has no threshold to welcome a person - is still a strange thing to adjust to. She has her rooms in a building by the docks, and then there’s her room in the palace bigger than the whole apartment, a building several times the size of Skyhold.] I suppose we have to wait and see, watch and listen to the right sorts of people. Better depends on where a person stands and what they have come from, what they reach for. Better and good are never easy things.

[They should be, but the world doesn’t work on ‘shoulds’.]

Tell her I will make dinner, this is how I impress the parents I get to meet though those have been few and far between, thieves are least welcome in the bed of a wife or a daughter, even when they have been invited, Leandra’s mother no longer stays in the palace since her abdication. [The rest of the guards all have families at home, and if they visit it will be for state dinners, not like when a merchant would sometimes come up to Araceli’s flat or allow her to take charge of their kitchens for an evening.] See, too much of Skyhold is just constant handwringing with the odd break to piss itself. Nothing is done, just spread too think in too many directions, things can only spread so far before they snap. [If what happened to Sina doesn’t cause that then it might not take much.

Castileos is a place of action, the guards are always on rotation, always busy and moving neatly. Debate has a place but that is all it seems to be, endless debates and councils and ideas and tentative treks out to crumbling dying places to fight then retreating with so little to show for it. At least she has a plan for training when she gets back so she can be more of use to someone with the right skills.] Probably with guards. The Templars would shit their own arseholes out if rifters and mages went away without as many of them to watch.

[The thought of guards has her huffing, not about to put up with that nonsense any time soon.] Fuck the Templars. I've been a free mage all my life, and I'm not going to see that end now. Nor will I see your own freedom endangered when all you've done is help. We're agents of the Inquisition, not criminals, and those assholes have no authority over us. Especially not the one who thinks he can silence me. Maybe it's time to speak to Leliana when we return, see what she has to say about all this. The higher-ups can't be so blind as to not see the fractures growing in the ranks.

[Korrin doesn't know Sister Nightingale particularly well, but her pro-freedom stance is well-known and that's all it takes to get her respect. Clinging to that thought, she tries to regain her calm for Araceli's sake. Right now, it's more important to be that port in a storm, not part of the storm itself.]

Given Tama's love of seafood and spices, I know whatever you make will be a huge success. She's spot most of her free life in Rivain, so their cuisine is freedom to her. She'd always complain when we were outside it or Antiva, saying that no one else could make it right. But I think she'll agree that you're an exception.

[Or is it really an exception when Araceli's homeland sounds so much like Antiva and Rivain anyway?]

...and you're right, 'better' is never easy. But I won't stop fighting for it, for us and anyone like us. We're a lot more fractured than your homeland, but we still have a common enemy out there to deal with. Somewhere, probably fucking about in the Deep Roads and throwing a tantrum because we took his land of red lyrium and titsicles from him.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

open: something grabs ahold of me tightly

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject