shut up and dance with me ;;

[chainlightning]

WHO: Merrill & OPEN
WHAT: Open log
WHEN: 29 Guardian - 18 Drakonis; can do earlier but then ignore the dragon bits c:
WHERE: Emprise du Lion, the way back to Skyhold, and Skyhold itself
NOTES: probably adorable

[ Victory, for Merrill, has always meant that the people they were meant to help and defend were safe, whether they were refugees or mages or her group of friends. As long as no one has been too seriously hurt, all of them have tasted sweet. This latest, though, is particularly good: the three dragons that had caused so much harm and scared so many in the Emprise have been defeated, and Merrill was able to help in the takedown of one.

She'd had ideas, good ideas. She'd been listened to. Magic and blades and mabari teeth had all flashed and sang and the dragon had fallen, and where Merrill isn't exactly known to make a ruckus, it makes her happy enough that she can be found celebrating -- at the tavern, because it had been insisted upon, but there's also some delighted humming and skipping through camp. This continues as Merrill starts on her journey back to Skyhold, ready for an adventure of a different sort; she's more than happy to chat with others on the road, or help if they need help.

In Skyhold itself, she can be seen with a little mongrel pup following at her heels. She is, if anything, a bit more subdued in the fortress; when she manages to navigate the twisting halls, she tends to be found in the library, trying to find anything and anything related to her people and to magic. It's a slow process, not in the least helped by her abysmal sense of direction or her willingness to be distracted by her dog, the weather, particularly nice stone work, and anyone who looks interesting. ]

Comments

[laurenande]

[The Emprise Du Lion had been something of an ordeal, and while she did not regret traveling to those frost-touched lands, she was glad to be back in Skyhold. The cold didn't bother her as severely as most, but it had been a constant source of misery, and the library was both warm and inviting. (The plush rugs, in particular, were something to enjoy.)

She was not often bothered when she sat in the library; apart from the one woman with the empty stare, most mortals needed little reason to let their eyes skip over her. It was a simple matter to conceal herself from passing glances, so she often became immersed in her reading, as she was now.

When she heard the clicking of nails across the floor, she paid it no mind. The skitter and slide of paws was ignored as easily as the quiet conversations around her or the birds above. Indeed, she failed even to notice the scratch of little feet against the leg of her chair. When she leaned to the side to reach across the table, something happened that she could not ignore.

All at once something heavy gripped and sharply pulled her hair. Unprepared for such a thing, Galadriel did as all beings with long hair do, and bent toward the force. She grasped the table quickly and, if only for that, was spared suddenly falling out of her chair.

Whatever had tangled in her hair was small. She felt when its weight contacted the ground and, as it did, heard two things that she did not expect. The first was an impossibly small, delicate growl. The second was the abrupt skittering of tiny claws on hardwood. All thoughts of concealment were startled from her mind as a small creature, enamored with her hair, decided to play tug of war with her.]

[chainlightning]

[ While Skyhold's information regarding elves, and especially the Dalish, is either lacking or incredibly biased, there is a great deal of information on magic. Merrill is pouring over it, reading about magic in cultures she's never been exposed to, about how training occurs in the Circles and the Mortalitasi and dozens of others. It's incredibly engrossing, which means she doesn't pay too much attention when Barkley gets up from his spot at her side (because Merrill, of course, is curled up on a cushion on the floor) and starts to wander about.

It all seems very normal, at first; regular little canine sniffing, the exploration of a curious pup. Then Merrill hears a small, playful growl and straightens. ]

Barkley?

[ No answer and no rush of tiny claws, and so Merrill sits up straighter, looking around with wide eyes before- ]

Oh, Barkley, no-

[ Her book abandoned on the cushions, Merrill rushes over and falls to her knees, moving to try to urge the dog to open his mouth while babbling apologies. ]

I'm so sorry, he's very young and curious, let me just get him to let go- Barkley, we do not chew on other people's hair!

[laurenande]

[The little animal was called Barkley, apparently, and it gave credence to its name as its owner swept alongside her. The creature jumped and twisted, its tail wagging in delight, and released her hair to bark at the woman. Unfortunately, between its scramble to face her and its wagging tail, Barkley had tangled itself so completely in her long, gossamer hair, that it was almost entirely obscured by it.

Galadriel had never, in all her years, woven a snare or net as effective as her hair was, right now. Barkley barked again and Galadriel, bent nearly double, turned her head to peer at the little dog. She stared at it and then shifted her gaze to the elf who scolded it. Her shock was all-consuming; she could find no words.

The little pup tried to shake itself free of her hair, heedless of the mess it had made of it. It failed, utterly, and when it realized it was all but tied up, it let out the most piteous whine she had ever heard. Galadriel looked back at the dog and, as she came to terms with this situation, found she could do nothing but laugh.]

[chainlightning]

Oh, Barkley.

[ She sounds just as despairing as she sounds fond as she watches the little pup trap himself in hair, his long tail and short limbs getting wrapped up in it so quickly that there's nothing Merrill feels she can do to even try and stop it. Nothing but perhaps make it worse, until he settles some; then she reaches out and grabs the pup by the scruff, trying to make shushing sounds to keep the dog from squirming further.

Not that it necessarily works, but at least she has a hold on him, ears and cheeks tinted pink with embarrassment.

But then the woman whose hair has made such an effective net starts to laugh, and Merrill looks up, surprised -- and realizes that this rifter is both quite striking and elven. The sheer ridiculousness of the scenario has Merrill laugh after a moment as well, free hand quickly scratching Barkley behind the ears before she starts attempting to get him free of all the tangles. ]

Children will be children, I suppose, no matter what species. I am very sorry about this, but I think I can get him out -- please tell me if it pulls? My name is Merrill, if you have to get my attention.

[serannas]

Ellana well knows how slow going it can be to find things in the library on elves. What little there is seems to be written by humans, who are known for painting elves in the poorest light possible. Even the stories from Gisharel Ralaferin were published by human scholars. It's part of why Ellana wants to explore elven ruins and write about what she finds. Maybe one day her writing will find its way into the hands of a frustrated elf who is tired of reading the human perspective on elves.

When she sees Merrill peruses the shelves, she comes over and pulls out a book.

"Have you read this one? It's not much, but it has a chapter on the Emerald Graves."

[chainlightning]

She doesn't recognize the elf who approaches, but that's hardly a detriment. Save for her conversation with Sina, which had ended in understanding, none of her interactions with others of the People have been too poor. It seems to fill a part of her she had forgotten was empty, vallaslin falling neatly back in with Hawke's warpaint and the traditions of the alienage in her heart.

And so Ellana gets a bright smile as Merrill shifts to look at the book, fingers reaching up to absently brush through her hair.

"Oh, I hadn't! I'd missed it entirely, actually -- is it better than some of the rest of these?"

[serannas]

"Better... well, I can say it sticks to the facts and mostly just gives descriptions of the area. There is a mention of the fall of the Knights, but they aren't too scathing." She gives Merrill a knowing smile. "Sad that we have to pick from scathing, insulting, or brutal, isn't it? It's part of why I want to write about elven sites someday. If I can even get as far as publishing anything not edited by Orlesians."

[thelastking]

[The telltale sound of nails scratching against wood caused Aragorn to glance behind him. He's seated by the window with a couple of books at hand when this little bundle of fur and claws came rushing towards him. The puppy won a smile from him as it barked at him in excitement. While the pup managed to when a few agitated looks from others, Aragorn didn't seem to mind its presence.]

Avo bedo. [ He muttered in Sindarian as he reached his hand down to the pup. The dog sniffed his hand and gave it a lick before rubbing its furry head against his fingers. Aragorn's grin widened. ]

You're quite energetic but friendly.

[chainlightning]

[ If not for the fact that Merrill isn't doing anything more energetic than turning the pages in her book, Aragorn's comment could almost be directed at her. As it is, it does make her look up; at this point, it is not the first time that Barkley has wandered off and been returned to her. Some of those return trips have involved people that look more cross than others, so she's ready to apologize for her dog being- well, a dog.

Barkely, however, is happily wagging his tail and basking in attention from his new Rifter friend. Merrill immediately relaxes, rocking up from her cross-legged position to approach. ]

And quiet, when he wants to sneak away and seek out ear scratches!

[thelastking]

[The sudden reply caught his gaze.

Aragorn almost hadn't noticed the elf seated not too far from him because of the little puppy licking at his fingers. He scratched under the dog's chin briefly before scratching along those large floppy ears. The puppy let out a happy whine now that the ranger got to his ears.

Little Barkely is in heaven right now.]

He's a crafty one. [He said with a faint smile.] The little ones like him always are.

[the_effect_she_has]

[Katniss never has to go far to find her favorite full-blooded elves. Nine times out of ten, she is going to find them with their noses deep within one of the volumes of books in the library, giving up fresh air and freedom for knowledge. She appreciates it, absolutely does to the bottom of her half-blooded heart ... but she does feel sometimes she ought to drag them out by their ears.

Today luckily is not one of those days for Merrill. Instead when Katniss drops into her seat, her tone is more conversational than anything else.]

So ... find anything more on those globe things we found in the Hinterlands?

[chainlightning]

[ The library does, at least, have windows. It's more for the ravens than the readers, Merrill supposes, but it lets in fresh air and light. It also gives Barkley something to try and jump up to look out of, which he promptly abandons as soon as Katniss is sitting and he thinks he may be able to con some attention out of her. ]

Not much, but that's hardly surprising. Similar looking objects in old drawings, but it's hard to tell how much is just style and how much is accurate. They weren't really interested in preserving our history past what they could use.

[the_effect_she_has]

[He'll find attention easy to get. Katniss hates cats, but dogs are always all right with her. They hunt, they're friendly, and they listen. She slaps one leather clad leg for Barkley to jump up, so she can scratch his ears.]

May the Dread Wolf take every last one of the bastards. [Was her firm, aggravated statement.] What do the almost globes look like, and what does it say they do?

[arcaneadvisor]

[Since the trip to the Hinterlands, and with so many either wringing their hands regarding the rift opening in Skyhold or off dealing with Emprise du Lion, Morrigan has had plenty of time to further her research. And to apparently begin the tentative stages of a new project with Leliana.

Wonders may never cease: for now all Fifth Blight parties seem to be able to speak in civil tones to one another like actual functional adults. Not for long but moving swiftly on.

With several scrolls of parchment and several large volumes, she's outside in the garden reading when she spies Merrill. And when the pup finds a thankfully blank roll tumbling and unravelling.

Irresistable, even a full grown mabari wouldn't be able to say no to pouncing as Morrigan grabs for it with a muttered curse. Isn't it bad enough her son comes back from playing with Doghren in Zevran's rooms all covered in hair and slobber? Is there no freedom from dogs invading her life?]

[chainlightning]

[ No freedom at all, especially since Barkley and Doghren are siblings. Still, at least Merrill goes for the pup as Morrigan goes for the roll of parchment. While she doesn't scold the dog too harshly, there is also some scolding going on. ]

Barkley, no. Morrigan needs those to work; you can chew on sticks, not paper.

[ Sticks were part of the reason for bringing the pup to the garden in the first place. Not that he seems to really care either way, happily wriggling in Merrill's grasp before she sets him back down. ]

I'm so sorry, Morrigan -- I can get you a new roll, if you'd like?

[arcaneadvisor]

[That explains the smell, she honestly thought it was Alistair neglecting to bathe before rolling around with the dog.]

And I thought Doghren was the most ridiculous name I would hear. At least I was only going to use this. [Ugh, it's got slobber on it, and she makes a face as she sets it down on the bench behind her before she stuffs the rest in her pouch, safely out of dog height.]

I have more, I can use, though you might wish to find it a bone at some point, else it might bring back all sorts of rubbish. What sort of hound is it meant to be, I thought Alistair's simply some unhappy accident or long-lost family member of his.

[middle_of_calibrating]

It hadn't been long after he had come to Skyhold that he had found out that the elven mage was there as well, but Garris had found no need to seek her out. He didn't exactly make an effect to seek anyone who had been at Kirkwall at that time. That being said, Merrill was hard to not notice, and now that she had a dog following her around where ever she went that was doubly so.

Which was how he finally came about meeting up with Merrill again.

Garris hadn't been paying much attention when he passed on his usual walk around the keep, not until he heard a bark at his feet. He hadn't stepped on the dog, but it was clear that it wanted his attention by the way it wagged it's tail and barked again.

"Hey you."

[chainlightning]

Barkley, true to his name, barks in response before racing in a quick circle around Garris' feet. If he's not getting scratches behind the ears, he will accept a game of chase or fetch or something else; anything, really. He likes attention and he has the high energy of any other child.

Merrill is usually fairly decent at keeping him entertained, but today she's entranced by something else: a starling, perched on one of the ramparts, who is boldly flitting forward to take crumbs from her lunch. The reason Barkley isn't closer becomes clear as soon as it notices Garris: the bird puffs up its feathers and mimics the much deeper bark of one of Skyhold's mabari, making Merrill laugh even as Barkley whines.

"One day he'll learn."

[middle_of_calibrating]

While he doesn't whine, Garris certainly gives the bird an odd look, not at all expecting such a small thing to make such a large noise. Feeling a bit bad for pup, he reaches down and rubs it on its head, which earns him a few licks.

"Learn what? Not to be scared of the bird, or to bark back when it does so?" Mabaris were intimidating with a bark like that, so he couldn't fault Barkley for being scared of a little bird.

[harthad_uluithiad]

[ He's lost.

He hadn't meant to get lost - not that anyone really ever does, he supposes, but after losing his way in the Emprise and having to be rescued by Twisted Fate, Sam had been especially determined not to let it happen again. But here he is, wandering the deep lower reaches of Skyhold, and he's passed that pillar enough times now that there's no denying the truth any longer. He'd tried to stay calm - this isn't the freezing wasteland of the Emprise, after all; it's warm and dry and indoors, and he's sure to find his way out sometime - but that's getting harder and harder to do.

Slightly panicked now, and having to fight not to break into a run in an effort to get somewhere new, maybe even find his way back up to the courtyard and the sunshine again, Sam turns a corner a little faster than usual, only to smack headlong into someone coming the other way. He staggers back, dazed and clutching at his head. ]

O-oh! Begging your pardon -

[chainlightning]

[ 'Lost' tends to be a semi-permanent state of being for Merrill as long as she's- well, basically in anything resembling civilization. She's getting better at navigating Skyhold, but there's still the fact that it has twists and turns and (she's fairly certain) secret passageways and all the stone looks the same. At least every walk is a small adventure in itself, but this time she's so thoroughly lost that at hearing footsteps, she's also picked up her pace -- staff in hand, just in case it's really a giant spider or an ogre or a ghost.

Which means it's her staff, most likely, that has just given Sam a headache, while Merrill -- not used to running at a quick speed straight into a mountain of hobbit -- shrieks slightly and ends up stumbling backward, tripping over her own feet, and on the floor. ]

Oh- no, it's fine, don't worry-

[ And then she realizes he's clutching his head, and immediately changes from 'frantic reassurances' to 'frantic apologizing'. ]

Oh, goodness -- you aren't hurt, are you? I'm so sorry!

[harthad_uluithiad]

[ Sam recovers quickly enough, only to open his eyes wide in alarm at the sight of the elf in a heap on the floor in front of him. He rushes forward in a panic, his own apology spilling from his lips at the same time as hers. ]

Oh miss - I'm so sorry, I weren't looking where I was going as I ought. Here - [ He holds out a hand to help her too her feet, looking her over anxiously for injuries. ] I hope you ain't hurt too bad!

Library

[colecomfort]

[Cole doesn't spend a great deal of time in the library. He passes through, for the most part, leaving the books with their words slumbering between the covers. Everything they have to say is either old, or never was. Cole concerns himself with other things, unless Varric or someone like him is there to tell the tale.

Sometimes, however, he's drawn to the people searching the shelves. Particularly the ones who know what they are looking for and are having trouble finding it. He wishes he could help them, that the books would speak to him more without his having to wake them.

He is there, standing to one side a little bit away from her. Not abrupt, not appearing in a puff of smoke - just simply, suddenly there. Looking at the books on their shelves.]

Looking to read the ripples, but they crossed and cracked so long ago. Were there stories saved that still stay untold?

[He tips his head, first to one side in contemplation, then again to look at her.]

Easy to get lost in the library. There's too many pages.

[chainlightning]

[ He is suddenly there, the boy with the large hat, and Merrill blinks. It's not normal, but it's certainly natural -- that doesn't exactly make her less wary, but it also doesn't make her less curious. More, in fact, and that is what pushes the wariness aside, Merrill turning to offer a smile at him and his rambling words (that, for all they ramble, sort of make sense to her). ]

A different kind of lost, I think. Well, depending on the pages you end up in.

[ Lost in knowledge could easily turn into lost in fear, even more dangerous than being lost in unfamiliar terrain, in hostile territory. ]

Do you know of any stories yourself?

[colecomfort]

I like Varric's. [And he knows that she knows him. There's a thread between them — more, actually, like a little garden path.] He makes things seem real, even when they aren't. [He raises a hand and brushes his fingertips along the spines of books.] Some of these are his.