and I'm haunted

[fightingale]

WHO: Hercules & Leliana & Ruby & whoever would like a thread with them 8Db
WHAT: a catch all for February-March;
WHEN: the next monthish :|b
WHERE: Skyhold, Emprise, maybe somewhere else.
NOTES:
1. individual starters in el commentos
2. specific themes and warnings will be dropped into subject lines as necessary.
3. if you are threading with Leliana it would be amazing if you could reply to this post re: information she could know about your character.
4. if we have discussed doing a thread but there isn't a starter here, feel free to just barge in and set one up! otherwise prod me and I can add it asap, I have a to-do list but I am also scatterbrained ;u;
5. I'm not doing open prompts this time for Leliana, but if you would like a thread with Leliana, please don't hesitate to get in touch with me! I am just trying to do custom things because she is in a particular state of mind, at present.
6. I am sorry there are so many notes







apparently I am being pretentious this month

Comments

[lacere]

Harding knows when to call it a day and sleep, at least. She has her downtime, spends most meals in the company of others and always remains approachable to any scout, no matter what their concerns or worries might be. She allows them their rumours, their silliness, their adamant belief that she and Bruce are courting, because it would trouble her more if they didn't have rumours to spread, if they were terrified about what could happen tomorrow, or the day after, or the state of the world of the end of it all. She didn't have those kind of luxuries herself, even if she kept the knowledge of Corypheus at arms length. There were still many, many steps to take before they got there. They would get there, though. She had faith in that; she had silently sworn that she would finish what Evelyn had started, to make it so her sacrifice had mattered.

Lofty goals, then, and she would give herself the same high standards to match. She knows what's at stake, what Leliana expects of her agents. This was not a holiday. This was a war. She would give it her all, when the time came.

"A spurned lover?" Harding seems fractionally amused as she lets the arrow fly. It thuds into the center of the target as expected. "That's tempting fate. Nothing like a call for bad vibes." Or to lose another lover due to lack of being able to, well, shoot things. "What about you? Or is that something I shouldn't ask the spymaster?"

[fightingale]

"If you can believe it. I believe he thought he was being witty." Leliana sounds both unimpressed and amused, in that dangerously ambiguous way of hers. "Nothing makes someone seem so grand as the assurance that they were once desired." And nothing makes them seem so desperate as the continuous assertion of the fact, she could add, though it hardly needs to be granted voice.

"Me?" The question is not really a surprise. She rather opened the door to it, and Leliana is drawing a dagger from her belt as she considers, idly spinning it at the tip of her finger, the handle loosely held in the opposite hand.

Nothing, she could say. There are times when she wonders if she thinks of nothing real, nothing of substance, nothing that will guide them and grant them comfort in the darkest hours. Those moments of doubt are so very rare, though, times that she always looks back on with sadness, and that renew her faith.

"I think of the Maker," she replies, entirely honest. "I think of protecting those who need it, and felling those who would bring suffering to the world." She used to think of mercy and compassion, and pray for the souls of the lives she took. She still does, in truth, but those are thoughts that belong to Leliana, and are indulgences the Nightingale cannot afford. Leliana moves quick, the knife that was idly being twisted cutting through the air and embedding itself deep in the centre of the next target along, although Leliana has already corrected her posture. "And focus, of course. I find that rather helpful."

[lacere]

Ambiguous, indeed. Harding isn't sure she'll get a reply to as what Leliana thinks when she shoots, or fights; the knife tips back and forth, no real indication of whether she'll answer or no. It could be the truth, or a fraction of it. Harding herself wasn't so good at imparting half-truths about herself, far too honest and far too direct, but that served her well enough, accomplishing what she needed to do.

But Leliana was different. You didn't get to being an organization's Spymaster without the ambiguity, without a few secrets. Harding knew enough to trust her implicitely, to do as needed, but there were doors she wouldn't dare to open. It's partly why she gives Leliana the escape; she doesn't have to say.

But as she does, Harding chooses to take it as the truth. The Maker is fitting for her, as is the rest. The knife hits the target before anything but her intuition notices it, which is when she chooses to respond. "And surely there's no better place to go about that than here in the Inquisition," she starts, but then shakes her head, amused. "Almost sounds like a campaign. Or a slogan." Something a dwarven merchant would say, probably. "Helping others sounds about right for you, though." Not Leliana's word choice, but reading the actual words is not the only thing Harding can do. Between the lines is more fruitful.

[fightingale]

"Perhaps we could make some posters," Leliana replies rather lightly, not even a hint of dryness in her tone. Surely dryness is unnecessary for one who knows her so well as Lace Harding. It made her wonder, at times, at the differences in expectation or understanding some of her scouts might have of her, compared to those who knew her during the Fifth Blight. It was a strange source of conflict for her, aggravated somewhat by her recent discussions as to the value of life, as to whether she was wrong to protect her scouts and deny them the greater warning that might have spared Evelyn's life. Harding has certain spent more time in the company of the Herald than most of Leliana's scouts, but Leliana would not burden her with such a question. The knowledge was hers to bear, though the consequences weighed on them all.

That helping people befits the Nightingale... she does that know if that speaks well of her efforts, or of some portrait of herself she has painted. It troubles her. Let us hope that you are right, she wants to say, but holds her tongue. Instead, she brushes the comment aside, smiling one of those faint smiles of hers, before she turned to face Harding rather than the targets.

"At your leisure," she starts, because it is important to know this is a request and not an order, "I have some potential new scouts I am considering. Not all to be approached immediately, and perhaps some not at all, but our web expands and weaves a more complex pattern at time goes on. I would appreciate your thoughts, but your other duties remain the highest priority."

[lacere]

"I'll get right on that," Harding says, more smirk that smile. "You never know." It could be a nice, relaxing, rewarding group activity. Whether the intended message would be translated was another matter, so, probably not a worthwhile use of her time, was it.

Though she recognises it as a request, Harding still nods briskly, settling into business. "I'm willing, whenever you wish. I have some time before I need to head back out to Emprise du Lion..." she pauses, a faint sign of worry, or consideration in that frown; the sooner the better, of course, but she did feel more comfortable being there, with her fellows. Not just to make sure they were following orders, because they would. She had faith in them. But though she was their superior first, the scouts were more than just comrades. So much time together, and they had become a quirky family, of sorts, not something that she entirely expected, but not inevitable, either. Still. Sheep, at least, were much easier to wrangle. The frown subsides, however. "Maker knows what I'll get back to. Still, anything I can do, I will."

[fightingale]

A nod, approving. Good. If ever these posters do mysterious materialise, she will amused and impressed, though she is hardly going to hold her breath for a joke, prankster though she might still be, from time to time.

"Some of the particular persons I have in mind are rifters," Leliana ventures, tone deliberately light and easy, though her gaze scans Harding's face carefully, watching for any hint of a reaction, a betrayal of opinion (for better or worse.) The consideration is not one that has come easily or quickly to her, though perhaps that is assumed easily enough, with the likes of Leliana.

She allows herself a little more of a smile. Considering that Alistair was there, chaos was a thing to reasonably expect. "Nothing that you cannot handle," is what she says instead, rather more diplomatically.

"Would now suit you, or would you sooner continue your practice?" Leliana is a great enthusiast of training, and then training some more, and then just squeezing in a bit more training, because there was no such thing as being too prepared. Practice must be allowed precedent over some things, or it might never be afforded time.

[lacere]

Harding's reaction is small, and subtle. Easily missed. Her face lowers as she purses her lips in thought; she's very still, as her arms go to her sides. It's that stillness that betrays her consideration of rifters as scouts, perhaps more than that. Harding has few qualms with the rifters - most earn their keep. There's the wariness, the caution, of anything new, yet... she's met a lot of different people from a lot of different places and cultures, and maybe some of what can be said of them is true, but not for that specific person. She holds that kind of judgement until it is deserved; she'd much rather give the benefit of the doubt, if they are willing to aid the Inquisition. Willingness might not be all there is to it; it's a shrewd thought, because a rifter would have little option, fewer outside influences.

It makes sense. A rifter could be entirely loyal. But that loyalty could derive from necessity, rather than trust.

"If they've caught your eye they must be something special," she says, after a second or so of silence. "As long as they know what's involved, and they're happy to do it? I don't see why not. Some have proven themselves many times... others are practically part of the scouts already, in all but name. Better we give them the chance than have them slip away before we do." She doesn't just mean to other callings, but she doesn't have to spell that out to Leliana. She'll know.

"Now's good," she adds, without much delay. She's of the same opinion of Leliana, mostly, but, well. "Not much of a challenge, honestly. We should probably invest in rigging up some moving targets before we both get sloppy."