faderift | The Restless One

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The Restless One

WHO: Alayre Sauveterre & Whomever joins
WHAT: Summary of content
WHEN: Harvestmere 21 : Early Morning and later, the Midnight Meeting.
WHERE: Skyhold, Frostback Mountains
NOTES: This features the "secret meeting" amongst the Templar and the Inquisition below. That's a locked thread.

Off the beaten path to Skyhold, a white horse could be seen frolicking about in its lonesome. The creature was without saddle or reins, completely free to roam where ever she wishes under the watchful gaze of the owner. Alayre had ventured out this morning for the sake of catching a bit of fresh air before the day starts. He felt guilty for keeping poor Durandal cooped up in the stable for the last several days and thought to treat her.

The horse seems to like her taste of freedom as she races along the expansive fields with such glee. Alayre found enjoyment watching the mare frolick as he sat high upon what seems to be the remnant of grey-stoned pillar. Dressed plainly in a black tunic and dark leathers, the only splash of color Alayre possessed was the crimson cloak that frames his sturdy form. Durandal's ornate brown saddle sat upon his lap as he gazes out towards the horizon. He's daydreaming at best, his thoughts scattered as the peaceful lull of the land almost tempts him to sleep.

With the Skyhold still visible from where he rests, Alayre wasn't too concerned about the treat of brigands and beasts alike. Though, this does not mean he left the hold unarmed. His swords are concealed by the lengthy cloak he wears but the Iceblade's ethereal glow is still somewhat visible.

A tired yawn escapes the Knight-Commander briefly takes a moment to stretch his arms. That suit of armor he typically wears left him feeling a tad stiff along the shoulders. It's an annoying dull ache that promises to get worse if doesn't alter the armor further.

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It was going to be an average morning- breakfast, lessons in the garden- but the apprentices wished to stretch their legs and there's precious little in the world that Adelaide can deny them so long as it won't risk their safety. A hike to gather more herbs, roots, wildflowers. Honeycomb for the bees. She'd bundled them up, given them packs and it'd gone well for a short while. About an hour. But then, oh. One of them wandered off, as children do.

But on this side of the mountains? It set Adelaide into a panic. The remaining students were sent back to the hold immediately to hole up in the room they slept in while Adele continued the search. More eyes would be better but she would not risk them for anything. A quarter of an hour she'd been searching when she found the horse without a rider, the wide, cold plain. Despairing she called out again. "LEON!"

Alayre was nearly lost within a world of dreams until the shrill scream jolts him out of his weariness. The Knight-Commander glances about quickly and spots a figure in the far distance. Uncertain of what kind of trouble brews, Alayre leaps to action.

He whistles loudly for Durandal to turn back and quickly makes it down this makeshift pillar. After a few leaps and narrow falls, Alayre lands upon the rocky ground with ease as his horse trots towards him. He tosses the saddle upon the mare's back and quickly makes his way towards the frighten woman.

"Whatever is a matter?" He calls out after hastily mounting his horse. Alayre rides closer until coming to a sudden halt once he catches a glimpse of the woman's face.

"By the Maker's breath...!"

Not her again.

Edited 2015-10-22 03:00 (UTC)

"LEON!" Nothing. Not a whisper, not a flare, nothing she'd taught him to use should they become separated. Maker save her from curious children wandering the countryside. He knew better, they had rules for a reason, and yet here she was wandering in the cold and snow, hoping for some sign of the boy.

What she gets in return is a Knight Commander on his horse.

"Merde- you- I do not have TIME for you."

An inaudible groan nearly escapes Alayre as he glares at the woman. He had hoped to put that unfortunate meeting with Leblanc behind him. The healer made it clear that his presence upsets her terribly, so he vowed not to cross paths with her again. Skyhold is a large enough fortress for him to escape her malevolent gaze or so he previously thought before running into her again upon mere chance. Now he finds himself forced to uphold his creed regardless of his personal thoughts.

"Calm yourself! I'm not here to argue." He sincerely states while keeping his grey eyes upon her. "You lost someone? One of yours? How long ago?" It doesn't take him long to figure out what happened here. Leblanc matches her name perfectly right now since she's petrified white with fear. The person she lost must be one of the survivors from White Spire.

"Where did you last see them?"

Where it anyone else, she'd take the help offered gladly. Eyes were eyes, a horse could travel farther, faster, find the boy before he tumbled off a cliff or caught his death of cold- she would even take any other Templar at the moment. But it was this man, the Commander, the one that would likely choose whether they might continue as they were or be put to the sword.

No matter how many times he protested otherwise, Adele would not believe him. IT was unthinkable.

Compassion bid her speak- and she did need fresh eyes. Merde. Through grit teeth, she spoke. "...A quarter of an hour ago. A little further east of here. We were gathering herbs."

He could almost sense her seething right about now. Leblanc is the living personification of cold fury within his eyes. She stands there literally stewing in distrust looking as if she believed him to have whisked her disciple away. The silence between them is tense and impenetrable. It's as if the pair are waging a silent war rather than anything else. He almost didn't think the woman would speak until she eventually does so.

"East? Ah, I know of those fields." He mutters as he cants his gaze towards the eastern horizon. "Many flowers and plenty if tall grass peeking from in between the frost. There's cliffs and hills there, steep ones." Alayre let's out a frustrated grunt before glancing down at Leblanc again.

"Climb on! We'll ride there together."

Edited 2015-10-22 04:03 (UTC)

"..." Climb on. Like it was nothing. Like he wouldn't put a her charges through a harrowing ere the time came. Like he was nothing more than a helpful man. She should walk. Stalk that way and find him on her own but-

It was cold and Leon was small. He'd be ill by the time she found him, if she found him at all. "I ride behind."

She'll not put her back to a templar ever again.

Alayre only gives a nod as he offers Leblanc his gloved hand. Despite the simplicity of his wardrobe today, there's still little details about this man that speaks of his status as a Templar.

The first thing happens to be the selenite gemstone he normally conceals within his tunic. The other Templar of Pharos all possess the same jewel as signifying their alleigence with that tower. While the jewel itself holds no power, it does help them recognize those hail from their tower. The next item that would undoubtedly make Leblanc glower at Alayre happens to be the two strange swords he has sheathed at his hip. If it hadn't been for the Order's sigil upon the scabbards, she would've thought him for a rogue. Alas, he's no rogue but rather that pesky Knight-Commander from a few days back.

The rest of his attire is actually quite modest in design if she ignores the fact that those black leather gloves are adorned with an intricate steelwork along the knuckles and fingers or the fact his crimson cloak was finely stitched by a steady hand. Hell, even the bloody horse is an annoying telltale allusion to his title. Nothing about Alayre seems to be separate from the Order Leblanc has learned to distrust.

"Better hold on well. This will not be a leisurely ride." And with just the snap of Durandal's reins, the horse takes off in a full sprint towards the east.

Everything of him, on him, about him screamed templar. The stillness of the veil around those that could force mages into silence. The insignia, the armor, the swords. Marked and made with singular intent. And she was to take his hand and ride behind him. An obedient little mage in her simple robe with her simple fears. Decades since she last had to pull on anything resembling her noble bearing- but those lessons had her fury still her expression entirely. Aside from blazing eyes and the chill to her skin, she appeared impassive as she put her hand in his.

Even through the glove he might feel the chill of the press of her fingers as she hauled herself upright. Cold as the air was it became colder still where they were close. Where they might touch. Icy fury had never been quite so literal as it was for the Lady LeBlanc. But beyond the anger there was fear. Leon was young. He was lost- likely afraid.

"...he may run, if he sees you. We must take care." After what had happened in the spire- safety came first. Safety meant as far from templars as possible, further still from those with authority. But she had to hold and did.

That icy chill that exudes from her is enough to make Alayre shiver. He felt that cold fury once before when they met and he's meeting again in a second introduction. An inkling of fear builds within now that this woman is at his back but that fear is well hidden under Alayre's just intent. He's more concerned about finding Leblanc's pupil than anything else. Leon must be returned to her or else that cold fury will only worsen.

"Of course, this is why you must call for him." He replies quickly as they sped off towards the eastern wilderness.

Had this been more of a social call, the two would've taken the time to appreciate the frost covered scenery of the Frostback Mountains in the distance. The region here is bitterly colder but still teeming with life. It's filled with wildflowers, rabbits, numerous birds and sparsely covered with trees. The jagged cliffs are well hidden under the frost dried shrubbery but Durandal knows her way well.

"This must be it..." Alayre trails off once they've make it to the eastern fields.

"Call to Leon again. Surely he must be near."

Life spun on. Even with the rifts, the demons, the war. Life continued as it would and perhaps there was something one could find comfort in that; Adelaide was too focused on a flash of dark hair or a blue cloak. None of them wore white out here today for this very reason. This far out she could not tell much of anything, but anyone could have heard the thunderous gallop of the horse's hooves. There hadn't been horses at the spire but- horses meant strangers meant Leon may be hiding.

It'd been years since she'd last ridden and she had to cling to the blasted Knight Commander as to not fall off, but the moment she saw movement far at the edge of the field she twisted. Hooked a foot in the stirrup behind his and stood to her not considerable height, hands braced on the Commander's shoulders for balance. Some of the chill had gone out of them- not much, but some.

"LEON!" Across the field it seemed to echo- but dim in the distance, muffled, there was some form of reply.

Alayre was pulling Durandal to a slow halt when that she-devil suddenly props herself up. The move honestly startled him since the icyness she exudes worsen once she began to stir. The bitter chill of her hands seeped through his cloak and tunic both and down to his very bones. Alayre glanced over his at Leblanc with something like a scowl upon his face.

"Be careful!" He grumbles before turning his gaze towards the jagged cliffs ahead. For the love of the Maker, Leon better be safe. Alayre knows Leblanc will be unconsolable otherwise and that concerns him greatly.

"Let us search by foot here. Durandal's footing won't be too sturdy there." He suggests while just secretly praying to Andraste that he doesn't freeze to death. Between Leblanc's affinity to ice and the chill in the air, Alayre is bound to become ill.

"Then hold still." She hissed, eyes narrowed on the horizon. She thought she'd heard him, the softest cry. Why was he not sending up a flare as she'd taught him? Either something was wrong or he was too afraid to think and with everything taken into consideration; it was likely the latter.

No sign.

It took but a word before she was swinging down off the horse, jogging to the nearest copse of trees. She would climb and seek him out from there, Leon had a penchant for finding small places to hide, up high. It'd been what saved his life in the Spire.

"He's wearing a blue cloak, his hair is brown, and he hides up high." Templars, for all their piety, rarely looked up.

He hides up high.

Alayre glances instinctively towards the cluster of trees nearby. Had the boy been spooked into hiding, then the lad would be there. He's almost certain of it given that this region is sparse of trees as it is. Therefore, without any further hesitation, Alayre jumps off his horse and makes for the forest.

"Then he has to be somewhere here." He tells Leblanc as he guides Durandal along by her reins. "If not, we'll search the cliffs next. This forest here is dense enough to hide all manner of beast, so why not a child as well? Your apprentice would seek refuge here." He explains with a tinge of hope in his tone.

"May the Maker guide us. He must be found."

"Leon!" No sign but again, that murmur. Something low and trembling and she knows that sound well- the rasp of it jars against unpleasant memory and here she is, again, seeking him out with a Templar at her side. He'd never come down. Hadn't she promised to keep him safe from them after the Spire? Promised he'd never need to be so terrified for his life ever again?

They would have to ride back on the Knight Commander's horse and he would blame her should anything go wrong. No matter the apparent kindness, trusting him is beyond her.

Of course he places his faith in the Maker. All good and wise and kind templars do.

"I hear him- stay with the horse." She's not precisely dressed for climbing but that doesn't matter. Hand over hand she hauls herself up the tree- it takes time and is shudderingly cold by the time she gets to the second set of boughs- but there he was. Shivering, bundled in his cloak, terrified. Several trees further in and a good deal higher up. Merde.

Alayre falters in his step once the woman takes to the tree. The Knight-Commander knows a great deal about climbing and he was almost certain that Leblanc would fall. He watches her with worry as she climbs higher into the canopy. The child, Leon, is so high up that even Alayre has trouble spotting him. It's frustrating and worrisome.

"Do you see him?" He calls up to Leblanc after tying Durandal's reins to a low tree branch. As much as he desires to help her, Alayre hestitates to come nearer. Much like Leblanc, Leon has a healthy fear of Templars. If he comes any closer, the boy will be startled.

"Further in, quite high." On the one hand, bravo Leon for keeping safe in the way you know how. On the other- this will be frustrating at best to get through. She refuses to think of the worst possible option. Climbing down took a bit of doing, shifting of cloak and skirts before she drops to the snow below, stumbling a bit.

There weren't many trees to be climbed in the Spire.

In a few, to the left and there he was. High above, all dark eyes and pale, shivering face. Adele immediately begins murmuring soft comforts in Orlesian, arms offered up to the boy. "Come down petite, you are safe, I promise."

So long as he focuses on her and not the knight commander, this should go well.

Alayre doesn't dare speak as the woman tries to coax the boy down. All he can do is watch for now and simply hope for the best. He would offer to try to climb up there but that would make matters worse. Much like Leblanc, the boy has no love for the Order or their Templars.

He moves a little closer to the tree and gazes up in between the branches. If the boy was to slip and fall, it would be a fatal fall. Alayre is uncertain if he could catch him but he would damn well try. All he wants is for dear Leon to be in Leblanc's arms again.

Little by little she was able to coax Leon down. As soon as he was within reach he dropped into her arms- as small a child as he is? Adelaide doesn't stumble. There are more whispers, soft expressions of fear, of reassurance, promises made and apologies given. Terror is exhausting- it is all to simple to nudge Leon into a restful slumber. Better that he not wake on the ride back and fall into a panic for who would ride with them.

Adelaide stays where she sits at the base of the tree, arms and cloak bundled around the child for a long moment. The last thing she wants to do is...thank the knight commander. But he had helped.

For some reason beyond her ken.

"...we have about half an hour before he wakes. I cannot carry him back to the hold..."

How she managed to convince the child to climb down is beyond him. Alayre watches with relief once Leon finally makes his way down the tree. The way the boy hurries himself into Leblanc's awaiting arms makes him smile somewhat. Leon trusts her like a son would trust his mother. The entire scene is so sweet but bitter at the same time. Leon wouldn't have felt the need to hide had he not suffered the masscare at White Spire. That much is aparrent.

He allows for the two to linger for a time in silence until Leblanc spoke. "Then ride back." He answers in Orlesian for the first time since arriving to Skyhold. His accent is thick but not harsh, soothing at best. Alayre's somewhat different in his native tongue than he does in the common dialect.

"Take my horse back to Skyhold, I'll go by foot."

It had been a way of separating them, using the common tongue. Impossible not to tell one of her countrymen from their accents but the more room she could keep between them on any level? The better. To hear him speak it has her flinching, curling tighter around Leon. Shouted orders, demands, blades flashing in the halls and Leon curled close, too terrified to cast a single spell. Her lips press thin as she tucks Leon that much closer to her chest. Ride back. It's been ages since she's last ridden but-

She cannot carry him back to the hold.

With a nod she stands, Leon braced against her chest as she approaches bot the Knight Commander and his horse. A thank you is in order but she doesn't have words for it. Later it'll come she's sure but for now she sets Leon across the horse's back and braces herself to mount up.

"Ride swiftly, Leblanc, and safely." Alayre says once she finally climbs into the saddle. He'll have to hike the rest of the way back but at least she will be able to save the child from hypothermia and possible frostbite.

"...Do not fall off a cliff or get lost on the way back to the hold. I'll be held accountable." The only thing worse than being indebted to a Templar is being blamed for their death. Beyond that- she rides. It goes swift with the horse, unaccustomed as she is to the practice. As soon as she's handed Leon off to Roul to be warmed she makes certain it's seen to in the stables- warmed and fed and, even, leaves an apple for it in thanks.

Alayre will find a bottle of wine tucked in with his horse's tack. Fereldan wine, but wine. As thanks.

[ It is a bit more cloak and daggers than he would have liked but it is what is required. The two Knight-Commanders meeting in the office of Commander Cullen in the late hours; those who are still awake, Stannis can imagine what sort of rumors and idiocy that they are coming up with on their own.

He paces from one side of the room to the other, almost like he does not notice either man. Eventually, he stops and pivots slow on his heel. His hand makes a gesture toward Sauveterre. ]

Knight-Commander Alayre Sauveterre. And I do not think I have to introduce the ex-Templar, Commander Cullen Rutherford to you, Sauveterre. [ Maybe someone else should have handled introductions. ]

Edited 2015-10-22 22:19 (UTC)

[Alayre takes a moment to acknowledge Stannis's unique knack for pleasantries. He eyes his colleague for a moment while silently hoping that all goes well with this secret meeting. He then turns to the Commander and bows in respect. While Stannis might lack grace, Alayre certainly possesses enough for the both of them.

He wisely decided to go without the armor and swords tonight in favor of a dark gray tunic and finely made pale blue cloak. After his tireless search earlier for Leblanc's dear pupil, Alayre had to find a change of attire for this. He opted out of the armor in fear of coming across too standoffish.

They're not here to intimidate, just talk.]

Commander Rutherford, it is an honor. I thank you for meeting with us both. Pray forgive the hour of meeting. We did not wish to cause any clamouring amongst the others.

[It seems like Cullen will never leave the Templar live behind if everyone keeps introducing him as an ex-Templar. While he's not ashamed that he was a Templar, he does wish to leave that life behind.

He nods to Alayre. Thankfully, he's not intimidated easily.]

The pleasure is mine, Knight-Commander. Though I am a bit curious as to what is such a concern for the both of you to come to me while there's no one around.

[It does ping his curiosity, to say the least. He's not a big fan of cloak and dagger like Leliana is.]

Because coming to you at all would have the whispers start. I care little of what people think for their thoughts rarely amount to much, but with the situation as it is ... a few whispers could turn the courtyard to a battlefield.

[ The situation is not ideal, but at least he has finally ceased his pacing in the small room. He acknowledges the look that he is given by Alayre with a curt nod, but says nothing on it. ]

I want the Templar stationed here to be under Knight-Commander Sauveterre and my own command. There are those that still hold onto the hierarchy and we should be able to control those that are only here because they have nowhere else to go. [ Meaning that he would wish to run them through with a blade, but he allows the tightening of his jaw be the only tell on that. ]

You have enough upon your plate with the non-Templar soldiers and I have already grown tired to how they stay to their own corner and act like nothing more than pouting children, or hissing cats. [ Stannis turns to look towards Alayre. While he thinks that the terms he gives are fair, he makes a small gesture with his head to have the man continue. Because eventually, they will have to speak on the mages. Let them get through this matter first. ]

[For once, Sauveterre actually approves of Stannis's handling of this situation. He looks to his fellow Templar a nods before just adding a little to what he said.]

With everything as they are currently, further discord is bound to happen between the Templars and the Mages. I've taken the liberty to speak with a few about the ongoing tensions brewing and I do believe it's a powderkeg bound to explode.

[He pauses for only a moment to collect his thoughts.]

You about to face another possible rebellion, commander. This I know too well. Therefore, we offer ourselves to assist.

[Put them both in control of the Templars? It's an interesting idea, to say the least. Delegating had never been Cullen's forte; it was really a curse. He liked to do everything himself, to show that he could do it and not rely on anyone's help. But the both of them are right. They need a bit more structure and discipline and Cullen is spread far too thin at this point.]

Unfortunately, the both of you are right. [He admits. He wishes they weren't, but with no Inquisitor to unite the factions, it won't be too long before they have fighting among their own ranks.]

I'm willing to allow this, on certain conditions. Both of you will report to me and apprise me of what happens among the Templar ranks. The Inquisition must appear united if it is to survive, understood?

I would rather we not be right.

[ He gives a small nod at the conditions. ] That is more than fair, and we intend to have them remember themselves. [ Stannis is better at punishment while Alayre has a way of rallying the Templar behind him. Those that believe in the cause eventually see the merit in following him, but it can take awhile for the stubborn mules to realize it. ]

I certainly have no objections to your terms, Rutherford. In fact, I do believe we have an accord.

[A faint smile lingers upon his lips as he looks to Stannis. It seems that he and the Baratheon will be working in unison after all to thin out their ranks of miscreants. This is excellent. Maybe they'll actually succeed.]

Rest assure, Cullen-- [He feels the need to drop the formalities for now.] We view ourselves as members of the Inquisition. You are our commanding officer and we will honour our oaths to the Inquisition accordingly.

No detail will go unnoticed.

Edited 2015-10-28 00:20 (UTC)

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The Restless One

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CLOSED | SECRET MEETING

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