faderift | OPEN: Like the High Tide Takes the Sand.

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OPEN: Like the High Tide Takes the Sand.

WHO: Nerva and OPEN
WHAT: After swearing an oath to Cassandra, Nerva has foresaken her title as Templar, and sworn to serve the Inquisition only.
WHEN: Over the next couple weeks so that whoever is wherever can still come bother her.
WHERE: Either Emprise, directly after her oath, or in Skyhold after they return
NOTES:The Oath, also warning for Nerva and her Opinions....

There is something uncharacteristically quiet about Nerva, these days. A solemn silence where the passion should be, a held tongue instead of the lash. After returning from Nevarra, after trudging through the snow of the Emprise, she retreated further and further into herself.

That didn't mean the passion was gone. Rather it was turned inward - almost self-flagellating in its intensity, ripping through everything she believed, and the things she thought she believed, until her soul was left at it's most raw, most pure state.

She needed a purpose. She needed a path.

And so she made one.

Any doubts she had, she did not voice. Any doubts she had, were gone, after she made her oath.

She did not have room in her heart for doubt. She did not have room in her heart for the wretchedness that had been there, for months. No. She only had room for commitment, for the cause. And if she could not fully live one, she would live the other.

If she could no longer be Templar in word and deed, then she would be no Templar at all.

She would turn herself into a sword for the Right Hand.

Over the next few weeks, her downtime was used to carefully and painstakingly remove all symbols of the Templar Order from her armour, her clothing, her weapons. Everything she had owned, had come from the templars, and she had no funds with which to simply replace them, so she worked. Mostly on her own, removed from others. She had no desire to make a big display. Her faith - her purpose - was her own, no one else's. There would be no announcement.

Just the careful and purposeful continuation of Duty.

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Nerva was carefully scoring leather, the templar sigil now half torn away, scrubbed from existence. She looked up, after a moment, as if both his approach and his words took time to filter through her careful and precise duty.

"I am not." She frowned back down at the leather belt in her hand. "If I seem preoccupied - it is because I have much to do."

Well, now. This is a curious position he's caught her in. The mage raises a brow, and slowly meanders his way closer to Nerva, arms folded behind his back.

"Do my eyes deceive me?" Twisted Fate muses, half-grinning. "What's the occasion, hm? Removal of your templar badge. Rather..."

There is a pause, then more seriously he asks, "I suppose I should ask: is this a good occasion for you, or did something happen you did not want?"

The half-grin already has her on edge, the muscles in her neck and her back tensing, preparing herself for the mockery as her defences quickly line up-- But then his tone changes, and the words go in a different direction than Nerva anticipated, and the automatic response of 'Absolutely none of your business' disappears before it reaches her lips. Instead, she stairs down at the scuffed leather, drawing a thumb over it.

"... It is, perhaps, both." She said finally, though her voice was far quieter than it usually was. "It was my decision, if that is your concern." Because that was the odd thing - he actually did sound, in a way that she didn't completely understand, concerned.

Concerned enough to ask, rather than mock.

"Then, I suppose I wish you ... congratulations, if it's what you wanted to do. You always seemed to really embrace the Order, but I suppose things will change."

There had been the moment, the desire to tease and mock, but he doesn't want her ire. The times in which he does, it's either because it's amusing or he'll get something out of it. He would win nothing with teasing her here, not with something she seemed to care so much about.

"So what will you do now? Full-time Inquisition soldier?"

"I don't think it is something worth congratulating," She says, the defensiveness slowly returning - less because of him, and more because of the situation. "The Order was my life, but the Order is dead. I will not continue to whip its corpse. We must focus, or perish, and Seeker Pentaghast is the only one I see who has the focus necessary."

She did look up then, meeting his eyes with a firm, even gaze.

"What I will do is in her hands, now. I have sworn my service - she will do with it as she sees fit."

"Then congratulations."

Twisted Fate crouches down beside her and holds up his hands, his smile returning. Less of a smirk, more of a thoughtful expression as he continues with, "Hear me out: there are still several people trying to drag the Order's corpse through the mud and struggle to keep it alive. I think it's wise to determine when something is over, and move on to what calls to you. Seeker Pentaghast does have focus, and it sounds beneficial for you to serve."

He shrugs. "So good luck with that, Nerva." Which he means. It seems it'd do her some good.

He's mocking her. That's the first thought that crosses her mind, when he offers her congratulations - the anger flickering across her face for half a moment, before he crouches down beside her.

And then, instead, is met with a sincerity that - despite the fact that she's witnessed it from him a few times - she still never expects from him. She doesn't know what to do with it now, the honest good will almost too alien to really wrap her head around, and she stares at him with something between confusion and suspicion for far longer than was probably acceptable. Then a heat, beneath her collar, and she clears her throat to clear it, her frown deepening as she had to pull her eyes away.

He just was glad she was no longer a Templar. That had to be it.

"I will do what I must," She replied, which really was not any sort of reply to anything he said at all, because she didn't have a reply to that.

The reaction is almost too good; it was worth going with the sincerity, seeing her almost become flustered. Fate does smirk now, grinning with his confidence, but says nothing to call it out.

"Oh, I don't doubt you're going to do whatever you feel like is necessary," he agrees. Whether or not she has to, that's another thing. "Do the remaining Templars know?"

Lucky for him, she wasn't looking up, so she missed that smirk. Instead she shook her head.

"I am sure they will learn, over the coming days. But it is my business." She raised her eyes then, breathing deep. "Their opinions on the matter are not required."

"That's a good stance to take." All in all, to his own surprise, Twisted Fate deeply approves of these choices. He doesn't really have an issue with Templars so long as they leave him alone, but he thinks leaving the Order will probably do her some good.

And to hell with anyone else's opinions. That is often his standing.

"Should the Inquisition ever end, I wonder what you'll do then. I expect if you've any plans, you won't share them with me. But give it some consideration. Nothing is forever, least of all the Inquisition."

She lets a snort of a breath out of her nose, still not entirely believing in his approval.

"In the likelihood that I even survive it's absolution?" She asked, and there's a wry darkness to her voice. "I will deal with it when the time comes. There must be a future, first, in order to plan for one. I am sure there will be a place for me."

She says that, but she isn't, and it's almost obvious in the way her voice slightly hitches as she says it. There almost wasn't a place for her, here.

But she has to try to believe that. Somehow.

"Not all of us can just go and happily wander back off into the woods."

"For a dedicated soldier like you? Undoubtedly. There is always a need."

For him, his statement is truthful, even if he would never live that life himself. Would she ever be happy? Probably not. But of what concern of his is that?

...What concern, indeed. Fate wonders. He's spent too much time worrying about people in this Inquisition, and it is a frightening thing. Too dangerous, in too deep. A separation would be better.

He snorts. "Oh, is that where you think I'd dally off to? Suppose you did think that I was still part of a clan. You wouldn't be the first, though at least you have an excuse to think so." Beleth? Beleth didn't. She's just naive in some ways.

"Of course you have a clan," She said, though it was more with confusion than with conviction, and she looks at him again as if trying to assess him. But no - he had the tattoos, he was obviously Dalish, and the Dalish lived in clans. Didn't they?

"Aren't they the ones here?" But as soon as she says it, she doubts herself. Assumptions. It had entirely been an assumption.

This is hardly a fun topic, but Twisted Fate has no qualms about establishing what he is not part of. Not anymore. Not when he hardly approves of most Dalish as it is. Twisted Fate raises a brow at her.

"Clan Ashara? Creators, no. Though I imagine if they had raised me, I'd be wiggling my toes in mud much more willingly." He shakes his head. "I left my clan when I was a boy. I don't have a clan to go back to, even if I wanted to."

Her expression doesn't change, but something in her chest does. Empathy, maybe, if she had the language to put a word to it. But she doesn't. Just the cold hand of a little girl, reaching out, long dead.

"... I apologize for my assumptions," She said eventually, stiffly. "And for your... loss." She isn't sure that's the right word, not really, but it's the only one that comes to her tongue.

Although the words are spoken with her usual Nerva-ness, it still earns a wry smile as he looks at her. Eventually, Twisted Fate shakes his head.

"I made an assumption about you. I think I have more than enough forgiveness for you." Fate shrugs and looks away. "...And it's fine." It's not. "It was a long time ago. I haven't seen them in ages, and that's for the best."

She isn't sure what to do with that information. On one hand - she would give anything to have her family alive, and together again.

On the other... There was her brother.

There were questions she could ask, thought about asking - Could he find another clan, for example? But she already felt stupid enough.

"Then we will both have to find new paths, if we survive this one," She said instead, and it was as good an offering of comraderie as she was likely to ever make.

"Since my hope that the circles will be restored seems... wistful, at best." As if anything that Nerva did could really be called wistful.

"Sweet of you to say, but I already have a path set out for me when all is said and done." That, in fact, is the truth. It's not a pretty path, but he figures whenever the Inquisition is done... Inquisiting, then he's back to being on the run. Such is the life, but little to be done about it.

There's a low chuckle. "Don't get too sentimental. Wanted to stuff me in a Circle and keep an eye on me, hm? I didn't think you got so fond of me, Nerva."

"That sounds like something I dare not ask about," She muttered lowly. Twisted Fate very well may have a path that lives up to his name, and it was probably for the best if she didn't know it.

She didn't blush, at his teasing, but she did raise her eyes to his and look at him solemnly.

"Regardless of my personal feelings," - which, the way she was speaking, could have either been fondness or disgust, it was impossible to tell - "I would want what is best for you. The circles are not the Hell that the other mages would have you believe."

"That depends on how you ask, and what you will ask." That's truthful enough; there are some things he could tell her, but others will remain secrets.

Twisted Fate shrugs. "And apostates aren't all on the verge of becoming blood mages or abominations," he says dryly. "I know the Circles aren't all awful, but I'm a man who enjoys traveling the world and seeing what new pleasures await. Circles are a bit too binding for me in the regard."

"Perhaps if we both survive, I will ask." Until then, the future was just a vague, grey shape that might never come to pass.

"You would not necessarily have to stay in the circle," She said, and there's almost a hopeful note to her voice, turning her eyes up to him as if she finally found that tiny crack that she might be able to wedge open. "We had many mages that would primarily work out of the circle - who had trained and proven themselves capable. You could keep travelling, if you wished."

But then she remembers where she is, and what has happened, and the hope that lit her eyes for the barest moment fades.

"Or, you could have."

"Ah, well. We'll see." Even if they both survive, he doesn't know that she'll have the opportunity. Still, perhaps that's for the best.

Twisted Fate shrugs and leans back a little. "Well, more than that. I'm not really someone who would work well in that sort of situation. Suffice it to say, my lifestyle -- mageliness aside -- is not going to be something you would greatly approve of.

"Regardless, thank you for saying that."

"Regardless of your 'lifestyle', you are here," She pointed out, but the firm and slightly far-away look to her eyes was back, as if for half a second he had seen someone much younger but that had slipped away again.

"You have somehow managed not to burn down the entirety of Skyhold, yet. What are you so convinced I would disapprove of?"

Beyond the mage-ness. And the ridiculous flirting. And well. Most of him.

For a moment, he looks at her, his blue eyes calm but distant. Twisted Fate dwells on her statement, then snorts and looks away.

"The part where I steal from nobles, the part where I con men out of their money, or the part where I cheat at card games?" he asks dryly. "Not that I have any shame on any of that, mind you."

Because those aren't things to be ashamed of. Not to him.

"No, why would you have shame in something that you know is wrong?" Nerva made a bit of a face. She shouldn't have asked. (Nerva slightly disapproves.)

"But you can't mean it. You would go from saving all of Thedas, back to being a card shark?" Her tone, while mostly one of annoyance and disgust, has something else in it - just a touch - and it is perhaps the most telling part of her expression. Just the barest thread of disappointment.

And one can only be disappointed if they were beginning to hope for more.

OPEN: Like the High Tide Takes the Sand.

Re: back at skyhold;

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