faderift | I'm headed straight for the castle

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I'm headed straight for the castle

WHO: Lara Croft and Open
WHAT: Lara has made the journey from the Emprise to Skyhold and is looking to get more acquainted with all this Thedas Inquisition Rift Fade stuff.
WHEN: Late Guardian, after the dragon mission
WHERE: Skyhold, Various
NOTES: None, though spoilers for Rise of the Tomb Raider are possible if that's a thing you're trying to avoid

So this was definitely real then.

Lara had allowed herself a small measure of denial, but it had been weeks, with the cold sinking in her bones; with the strange mark on her palm glowing and tingling unpleasantly. She'd met elves, and dwarves, and qunari. She'd fought a dragon and had a piece of it's skin, a shimmering shade of blue she could barely describe let dream up herself, hanging from her belt.

She'd really traveled across unknown time and space through something called the Fade to this world called Thedas.

It was terrifying, and as she'd come realize the truth of it there had been a few moments of panic. Of a fear stronger than any she'd felt even on Yamatai. A fear for herself, for Jonah, for her world, left with Trinity still operating. Still capable of great evil, and with her gone....

But this was real. And falling apart would get her nowhere.

With Leliana's map and her offer echoing in the back of her mind, Lara set out for mysterious Skyhold.

She wasn't quite sure what she expected - another village, perhaps - but the great, towering castle was certainly more than that and despite everything, her heart skipped, excitement and wonder swelling in her chest as she moved down the bridge.

It was terrifying; but it was also amazing.

Walking through the entrance, her head tipped back, mouth parting on a little gasp of wonder. She couldn't stop herself from drifting toward the nearest wall, fingers running over the stone curiously.

~.~

The castle was even bigger on the inside, she discovered, with so many people.... It was dizzying, but in a good way. It was hard to get swept up in darker thoughts and worries when there was so much to see and learn.

She lingered at the bulletin board, smiling at the familiarity of it even if so much of what was actually posted went over her head. Though she did note the message about rifters, rubbing at her gloved hand absently as she read the details of looked like a support group of sorts.

Turning, she called to someone passing, "Excuse me. Sorry, but can you tell me where the-" She glanced at the note again, "Herald's Rest is?"

~.~

She wanted to see Leliana again. She was one of the people she'd met first after coming through the rift, and she'd certainly seemed to know a great deal about what was going on. And while she'd been - difficult, to read, she had also been kind. And Lara didn't know anyone else at Skyhold.

Talking to Leliana would be as comforting as it was practical.

Though it took some questioning and some searching to finally find the right tower. And then there was the library, stacks upon stacks... She stopped at the top of the stairs, mouth agape, eyes widening.

It a sight as thrilling for her as that of the dragon.

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"They are magnificent," she agrees, easily enough, "Though troublesome obstacles in the field." Ever the pragmatist, these days, where in the past she might have allowed herself the luxury of waxing poetic over their strength and that otherworldly, terrifying beauty.

A little smile, though. "Perhaps dragons are one of the threads that tie our worlds together. There has to be something, no? Something more than simple... coincidence or happenstance."

She frowns at at thought, thoughtful more than anything, noting the idea down for consideration even if she suspects it might be stupid. Something to raise with Morrigan, perhaps. "Better dead than eating your friends," Leliana advises, shrugging stiffly. "Their scales and teeth make for find crafting tools. I doubt they are in any mass danger from us."

Still - she is intrigued, and leans against the wall. "Do you have a favourite dragon tale?"

"It's something I've been thinking about - this fade, the rifts... what if this isn't the first time we've connected? What if, all the stories are because at one point we knew these things existed? Maybe--" She paused, mid-thought, mid-breath, and shook it off. "I think about it, and then I think about how crazy it sounds and the old me says it's just coincidence."

Baba Yaga had just been a story. A clever woman and some hallucinogenic flowers. But then, the Divine Source, the Prophet's miracles... those had been real. Thedas was real.

She shook her head and looked back at Leliana.

"But stories, those I can share. My favorite individual dragon... the Colchian. It was said to guard the Golden Fleece, never sleeping, and it's teeth, when buried in the earth, would turn into human soldiers. ...Overall, however, I'm partial to the Japanese lore. Their dragons tend to be benevolent, and sometimes grant wishes."

There was a quick smile, a flash of the young woman Lara might have been - had once been.

Edited 2016-02-25 13:47 (UTC)

"Not the first time" Now, there was a thought she'd not considered, and Leliana pauses a moment. The ramifications would not be insignificant. "We have no evidence to indicate an earlier joining," she admits, though equally she'd be forced to say they had not specifically looked for such clues.

Colchian. Golden Fleece. Japanese. New ideas, new stories, new nations of worlds that were an utter mystery to her, and she almost despairs over the part of herself that is so delighted at the thought. There are so many things to work at, and yet here she is, smiling brightly over the thought of a dragon.

"I've never heard of a Golden Fleece before," she admits, and she doubts it's any great surprise, "I have heard tales of woman who can turn into dragons. Rather the opposite of benevolent, depending on the story you listen to." Her tone is markedly conspiratorial - this is a story she cannot share in more detail, she cannot insult Morrigan so even if the woman is an utter aggravation... and yet. She is still a comrade, of sorts.

Her thought turns a little more serious. "Teeth into human soldiers, though... have you learned anything of darkspawn, yet? Archdemons?"

So much for leaving Lara to learn on her own, apparently. "There are monstrous creatures in our world, who lead armies of monstrous, twisted creatures. They are not born of their teeth, but..."

Leliana trails off. Soldiers and dragons and archedemons and darkspawn touched upon painful, familiar threads. Months in the Deep Roads, the wretched, foul stench of the Brood Mother, and her knuckles are white within her gloves.

It had been a while - too long - since Lara had been able to talk legend and literature. To share the old stories for no other than reason than because she wanted to. Ever since she'd escaped Yamatii, her research had been pointed, precise, all driving for the same end.

The warmth she felt at Leliana's smile, her curiosity, was familiar, but also wistful. More than a little sad.

"There are many versions of the story of the Golden Fleece, but typically, it was the skin of a ram sired in the union of a god and nymph. The why changes, but it was sacrificed and its skin was hung in the sacred grove of Ares, the god of war. It's story is actually part of the greater legend of Jason and the Argonauts..." And she could go on. Might have, if Leliana's expression hadn't shifted.

If Darkspawn didn't sound more pressing.

"Darkspawn isn't a term I'm immediately familiar with..." she said slowly, "...but Archdemons, in the Christian faith there are often said to be seven. Often linked to the seven cardinal sins: pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath and sloth. But our faiths, in my world, like dragons and elves, they aren't--"

She hesitated to they weren't real. Both because it was a can of worms, even if she were the only person from her Earth to have made it Thedas, she didn't want to touch much less open; and because of what had happened in Siberia.

Jacob had said the Divine Source was misnomer, that it was an artifact, but not actually divine, but still....

"Tangible."

Edited 2016-02-25 14:34 (UTC)

That is a story she would love to hear. Perhaps her expression gives her away for just a moment, the eagerness, before she wipes it away in the next moment. Leliana's eyebrows raise a little, expression lightening just a shade. "If it were tangible, would we consider it faith?"
However, she catches herself, shakes her head. A theological discussion of that nature might be better suited for another time, although... "Our Chant of Light says that darkspawn were born of humanity's greed."

She indicates to her desk, for Lara to sit as she claims her own place at it, elbows resting in the table and hands twisted together. This she can allow time for - it is important knowledge, not the mere spinning of tales.

"Magisters of Tevinter was so hungry in their greed and ambition, in their vanity, that they dared to enter the Golden City, the home of the Maker. The City was corrupted and turned black, and the Magisters became the first dark spawn." Leliana cants her head just slightly. She struggles, at times, believing all things that man has written and claimed are true of the Maker and Andraste both. So it would follow with so much history, with mages and even with darkspawn. "The story is more complex, without doubt, but by account, so began the First Blight."

More to explain, she thinks. "Darkspawn dwell underground, unholy abominations, and their numbers..." The brood mothers, a horror she still finds in her dreams, makes her jaw clench a moment before she carries on. "Their numbers increase in ways that are beyond any description in their barbarity."

She feels she has barely offered any real explanation, and it is frustrating. Perhaps her skills in storytelling are being left to atrophy.

"They destroy, they eat, they infect and they kill, and they are relentless as the very sea. They are always present, making their home in the Deep Roads, the historical kingdom of the dwarves that was once the most powerful and awe inspiring realm in Thedas. As the darkspawn rose, the dwarves lost thaig by thaig, once-thriving communities falling. Only two remain now, and their battle against darkspawn is continuous. But when an Archdemon rises, it leads its darkspawn army in a Blight, taking to open earth in a bid to spread across all Thedas."

And a sigh. "By our definition, an Archdemon is an old God corrupted by the Blight. We have demons closer to your Christianity's in our fade. Those are what we fight when they come through tears in the Veil, at times. Different again."

Lara took the seat, her dark eyes intent on Leliana as the woman spoke. Her brow furrowed, eyebrows veeing, and her mouth pursed from time to time as if words were close, but she didn't interrupt.

When Leliana had finished, she began slowly, working through the information herself even as she spoke.

"Is there a belief in Heaven, here? Hell? Because the Fade--" She paused, just a moment, eyes twitching narrowing as she moved through her rapidly turning thoughts. "In many of our predominant religions, the faith is that when we die, our souls are judged, determining where we spend eternity. Heaven above us, is for the just and good; Hell, deep below, is for the cruel and evil. The Archdemons are angels that were cast from Heaven into Hell for disobeying God. Satan, the worst of them, was said to have crafted the first demon from a corrupted human soul."

The similarities in the theology were astounding. Her heart was drumming with it - excitement and curiosity, and with the slightest of trepidation of what it might all mean.

"But course, our demons aren't flesh and bone. We don't worry about them coming up from the earth or out of rifts. But there is the belief that they are there, waiting to tempt us."

Edited 2016-02-26 12:58 (UTC)

"We have a similar belief," Leliana starts, very cautiously, reaching for a piece of parchment, a quill and a pot of ink and sliding them across the table. How to explain this? To break it down simply, to explain it adequately. Her hand hesitates over the parchment for just a moment, before she draws three circles.

The leftmost she labels our world, the next the Fade, and the next she pauses, before carefully penning, the Maker.

"This is the world we inhabit in the present moment. I cannot speak for how other worlds tie into this, but herein lies Thedas, our nations and our people. Us, in Skyhold. This is the physical world." Next, she taps on the circle labelled Fade. "Here is the realm of demons and spirits. All living things can visit the Fade in their dreams, though whether they remember it is another matter entire. Mages can visit the Fade and retain their consciousness, they can interact with it, with demons and with spirits. That is one of the dangers, in fact, and what so many fear. If a mage should bond with a demon, become a vessel for it, then they cease to be themselves and are an abomination. There are instances when this happens to those who are not mages, of course, but mages have power that beckons to demons, and makes them a prize all the more worth winning."

But Leliana pauses, looking up to catch Lara's gaze, voice low. "Understand this. In Thedas people fear mages above all else. They treat them cruelly, for crimes they may never commit, for a gift that they were born to. Not even all those who serve as vessels pose a threat. A dear friend of mine was bound to a Spirit of Faith, and never have I known a kinder or more noble woman than she. Wynne once said that demons 'set the stage,' and it when we enter it that it shifts and changes to suit us, the actors in their play."

It occurs to her that she has veered a little off topic, but it is a matter of no small importance, and she cannot allow a new arrival to have a fear of mages drilled into her. Not when they are already so reviled. "The spirits that exist in the fade are either benevolent or malicious. The former are considered more rare, and the latter... from what I know of them they well match your cardinal sins, though they stretch beyond that, as well. They are limitless, and they are not all that populate the Fade. Lost souls go to the Fade when we die, as well as when we sleep, and they will remain there."

A moment, and she taps the final circle, marked with Maker. "And the virtuous will pass through, to join the Maker and sit at his side."

The virtuous, the good, the faithful. People like Wynne. People like the woman Leliana might have been, if she had not sculpted herself into this vicious, bloody thing. Leaning back, Leliana sighs, looking at her very simplistic little diagram, and considering Lara's words once again.

"The similarities are... considerable," she allows, cautious. "Though it is the differences that might give us more understanding."

Lara considered, studying the simple little circles for a long moment.

"Your process is a bit more streamlined," she replied, more wry humor, before she sobered. "...We don't visit these places in our dreams, and as I've said, magic is something I would hesitate to say exists in my world."

She would hesitate, but she wouldn't outright deny its existence. Not by a broad definition.

"That said, there is a certain belief in possession. It's popular in works of fiction, but there are also some accounts that claim validity...." She paused, her mouth pressing thin, eyes flicking up to Leliana's, weighing a thought silently. "I would have dismissed them once, but I saw something, about a year ago, that I can't explain rationally. Perhaps... there is some truth."

Edited 2016-02-29 13:22 (UTC)

"There are those who would make it sound more complex," Leliana has to admit. However, she is content to wait after that, to listen, assessing Lara with her gaze - careful, critical.

"To imagine a world where the very existence of magic is questionable..." She exhales, shaking her head. "For so many people here, it defines us. Whether we have it, whether we do not. Mages are not able to hold lands or titles. They are so often feared that, for some, abuses committed against them can be overlooked, in the name of the greater good."

It leaves a foul taste in her mouth, and she shakes her head. This is not the point, is it? "Forgive my curiosity, if I press too far, but..." But there is so much we do not know, so much to learn of other worlds "It seems prudent to ask, all things considered. What did you see?"

There was a quick reaction, a flash across Lara's face. Uncertainty, pain - even a little fear. She hadn't had the best experiences with trying to talk about what had happened, what she'd seen, what she'd done on Yamatai.

The public had called her crazy; her so-called therapist had tried to break her.

It left her - hesitant.

"...It's a long story," she said finally, voice a murmur. "One I'm not even sure I always believe."

"I understand." Oh, does she understand. Sometimes the events of the Fifth Blight do not seem as though they could be real. They do not feel solid, closer to some hazy contortion, some Fade-addled fever. With that, Leliana leans back. She has seen that look on Lara's face before. She remembers when her own expression echoed it. "Another time, perhaps."

It is not entirely altruistic. Lara seems familiar to her, in ways, but she cannot deny she would like to hear more of her world and its stories, to try and deduce if there is some meaning and lessons to be drawn from the fact that Lara, that evidence of Lara's world in human form, is here.

With that said, in the moment she is more concerned with the human than the information.

"No doubt you are you are tired from your journey. Have I kept you overlong?" Not a dismissal, no. More an... opportunity to exit, if it is desired.

Lara relaxed slightly, appreciating how Leliana backed off and lifted the pressure. She could understand how it could be important, and in her place, Lara would have asked too, but she just - she couldn't. Not yet.

"No," she shook her head. "No, it's alright. It's not like I have anyone expecting me here, after all."

Humor, if slightly sad.

"And... I do have a question. I met a woman, when I arrived, and she mentioned that you might be recruiting scouts?"

"In my experience, people expecting you does not necessarily make a good deal of difference." Zevran, Alistair, a good number of people seemed to wait on her, seemed to wait for Leliana, and yet she never came. Never appeared. There was only the Nightingale, truly.

She does not, however, allow sadness into her tone. She does not know Lara well enough for that, and there is no guarantee she would even if Lara did know her better.

That last past, though, does make her brows raise ever so slightly. "Oh? What woman was that? Scout Harding?"

Her brow twitched slightly at the statement, but she returned Leliana's favor by not pushing.

"She said her name was Morrigan," she replied after a beat. She pulled on the glove Leliana had given her, mouth slanting wryly. "I might have asked her if she was one your scouts."

"Morrigan?"

A shade too much incredulity, perhaps, and then Lara admits she asked if she was a scout, and Leliana is leaning her mouth against the back of her hand to keep from laughing. Or, well, to keep from smiling a little too much, before she schools her expression back into something a little more dignified.

"You asked Morrigan if she was a scout?" The amusement is still there. "I wish I had been there to see it. I can't imagine she'd find anything so distasteful as working with me." Her tone speaks to more than her words do, perhaps, for all the quiet. She and Morrigan have never been friends. At best they have a truce enabled by ten years of not speaking. A wonder, what a decade of being able to ignore someone's existence can do. (Amazing what Morrigan becoming kinder, and Leliana become more bruatal could do.)

"She could tell you a good deal about elven history, although whether or not she is inclined to share it is another matter."

Edited 2016-03-04 12:15 (UTC)

"She didn't try as hard to stifle her laughter, if that tells you anything," Lara said, her own mouth shifting lightly. Part humor, part sheepishness. "But she was actually quite praising. She said your network is unrivaled, and that you expect only the best."

She nodded her head gently.

"And she did mention the elves, she actually gave me the same warning you did, about taking what I might hear and read with a grain of salt."

"She rarely does," Leliana admits, though she leaves aside that Morrigan also does little to stifle her scorn. The humour in Lara's expression suggests that, perhaps, she has not been subjected to Morrigan's sharpness just yet. Although, Leliana's brow furrows, and she leans back ever so slightly, as if to scrutinise Lara with a little more distance for improved perspective. "Morrigan said that?"
That was something to consider. "It's true, nevertheless." But Morrigan said it.

The witch wants something, probably. More like her to speak a compliment indirectly (though still insincerely, Leliana suspects) and let it filter through other means. Leliana has enough ears throughout Skyhold. She was always cunning - perhaps so long at the Winter Palace has only sharpened her.

And a breath of laughter, Leliana shaking her head. "And we agree on something. The wonders never cease." After a moment, she does continue, "She is impressive. Also better taken with a grain of salt, but... there are few so dedicated to history as it truly happened as she." Unapologetic, but a little wry, Leliana continues. "At any rate, I gather that you know more of my position here than I shared in the Emprise."

"A little," Lara admitted. "You're a spymaster."

M, to her agents' James Bond. Only hers had access to magical wonders, rather than technological ones.

"But if it makes you feel better, I still don't know what specifically you were doing in the Emprise. That secret's still yours."

"Spymaster," she nods, agreeing. " But also bard and Left Hand of the Divine. It is my duty to have eyes and ears across Thedas, that we might prepare for all that is to come. Although," and she offers a slight tilt of her head, "The arrival of Rifters such as yourself has made me consider reassessing just what is the means of operation for my network, now."

Leliana does smile at that, still cryptic, and offers no explanation. "I would hope so, or I would have to seriously reconsider my chosen vocation."

"Even if someone had told me, I doubt I'd understand it, not entirely." She smiled. "Not yet anyway."

There was a pause, then, Lara taking a breath as she gathered her thoughts.

"I'm not looking for charity. I didn't ask to be here, and I hope to go home as soon as possible, but in the meantime if I can help... I would like to." Her eyes flicked to the side, glancing at the papers and scrolls waiting on Leliana's desk. "I don't know everything that's happening here, all the pieces and how they fit together, but I understand right and wrong. And this Corypheus, the things I saw in the Emprise... those are definitely wrong."

Ah, and perhaps now they get to the heart of it. Leliana waits patiently, watching the young woman carefully as Lara weighs up her words and speaks.

There is a long moment of silent assessment before she speaks. "I appreciate your candour, and I think there is a place for rifters - indeed, for anyone - in the Inquisition who wishes to stand against Corypheus. You strike me as an intelligent woman, Lara, and capable. We are ever in need of both qualities, and I believe that there is potential for rifters to approach things perhaps more objectively than those of us who have lived our whole lives here."

More carefully, she continues. "Did your interest lie in becoming a scout?"

She had been leading to it, had been thinking over it since Morrigan had mentioned it in the courtyard, but even so, it was clear that she wasn't taking it lightly. There was another long moment as she considered.

"...I need to do something." However many wonderous things there might be to see and learn, if she attempted to sit and wait, she would go stir crazy. She needed be useful. For herself as much as anyone else. "And this-" an idle hand toward her bow, "is what I can offer here, for better or worse."

She took no pride in her ability to kill effectively, but she couldn't deny it either.

"Not only that," Leliana corrects. "A bow is a fine weapon, and I would not advise that any remain ill-prepared to wield a weapon in these times, but your mind - that thirst for learning I saw downstairs, that will serve you just as well, if not better."

She remains seated, tempting as it is to stand and gesture and get carried away, those are the habits of a girl who has been buried for close to a decade.

"I believe you would make a fine scout," she continues, "If that is what you wish. Using your bow will more than likely be necessary, but your intelligence will see you excel."

Stop, part of her reminds herself. Wait. "However, there are roles dedicated more to research, as well." The choice should be Lara's own, not dictated by Leliana's more opportunistic tendencies.

"I won't deny that I'm curious about everything, and that it didn't take some degree of force to walk away from the books downstairs," a twitch of a smile, "but I also can't pretend that I understand more than I do."

She let out a breath, leaning her arms on her knees, gauntlets clinking softly against the chain-mail hanging around her thighs.

"I'll offer whatever I can, and I do want to be part of figuring out how this all works, how I can go home - I expect to some degree I'll even have to be. But I know nothing about magic, how it works. There's only so much I'll be able to do."

There was a part of her that was that was a little afraid to admit it. Knowing had always been a strength of hers. Something she'd always been able to rely on. Even if she hadn't immediately had the answer, she knew where and how to look... It felt like Yamatai, that same sort of helpless in the face of the impossible. And she'd just started to come with terms with that. Had just started to get some, small hold on it....

"Having something more, might be beneficial."

She wasn't ashamed of her coping mechanisms.

"I am no mage," Leliana replies, very quietly. "And in truth, I knew sinfully little of this world before the Fifth Blight. I was as blinkered by my privilege as a rifter might be. Do not write yourself off so quickly."

And yet, she well understood Lara's hesitance. A quiet of contemplation follows, before Leliana is ready to answer. Lara is unproven, technically, but certainly the skills she claims to have hold potential. When Lara says that something more might be beneficial, though, her mind goes so fast to Marjolaine - she who owned Leliana, sculpted her. She who Leliana had so idolised.

She will never be the same as Marjolaine. She will be respected and obeyed, but not worshipped. She would not own people in such a way.

"I understand," she says, very softly. "I can grant you such missions, but do not believe yourself bound to it. I would not wish that upon any soul."

I'm headed straight for the castle

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