faderift | shut up and dance with me ;;

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. ]

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I will endure, do not worry, but perhaps a bit of rearranging would not go amiss.

[The puppy was all but bleeding energy, despite its circumstances and the firm hold its owner had on its scruff. Galadriel released the table and scooped the creature up, freeing Merrill's hands. She righted herself and eased the strain on her hair--that this gave her ample opportunity and excuse to pet a puppy was neither here nor there.]

I would rise to greet you, but I suspect the gesture might appear more absurd than polite, all things as they are. [She absently settled Barkley in her lap and stroked her thumbs across his fluffy, puppy cheeks. He wiggled, but her lap afforded him little space to move around.] I am called Galadriel.

I believed I knew all of the Dalish in Skyhold, but it seems I was mistaken. Are you of the clan Ashara?

[ It's certainly a good excuse, and Merrill hardly minds. Barkley doesn't mind either, seeming perfectly pleased despite the fact that he's tangled up in Galadriel's hair. Perks of being a pup, she supposes; he's well-fed and gets attention either way.

There's a soft laugh, Merrill nodding her head. ]

I suppose I should have thought of that- of letting you sit up, I mean. And don't worry about standing, really! It's very nice to meet you.

[ More than, she suspects -- hopes. ]

But no, I'm- well, I was the First of the Sabrae clan.

[ Before she left. Before they died. Can she be the last if they no longer claimed her? ]

And you are a Rifter, are you not? You're the first elven one I've met -- er, you are an elf, right?

I am. [Galadriel replies easily. It was amazing how many people asked her that question when they already seemed to have the answer.]

I am both elven and from the rifts; I came to Thedas from Arda.

[With Merrill helping her to unwind the puppy from her hair, she won't be kept here long. She doesn't suspect the Dalish elf would vanish once her dog was freed, but she cannot assume she would like to stay, either. As she had a question, it was best she ask it then. ]

The First? I have heard this term before but I fear I do not yet know what it means.

First to the Keeper -- their apprentice, [ Merrill explains, or at least starts to, carefully pulling a paw out of a loop of long hair. ] The Dalish live in clans, and the Keeper leads the clan -- provides wisdom, preserves and remembers the old ways, and is always a mage.

[ That's only important to mention, as far as Merrill is concerned, because magic is such an integral part of the old ways. They were all gifted with it, once. ]

But I haven't been the First or with a clan in... goodness, ten years, now.

[ Barkley, ever helpful, tries to chew on some more hair. ]

[Galadriel absently scratches the small dog behind the ear as Merrill works to free her hair. She knows the task of keeping wisdom is charged to Keepers, she had already been told as much, but knowing that the First is apprenticed to them is a new insight. Why one might leave a clan, or release themselves from an apprenticeship, she cannot say.]

Ah, hannon'llye, I think I am beginning to understand.

[Barkley, unable to wiggle to his heart's content, decides that playing with Galadriel's fingers is suddenly of the utmost importance. His little teeth and halfhearted chewing are cuter than they are troublesome and Galadriel simply laughs as she humors the pup.]

Do the keepers of lore usually travel with such fierce guardians? [She wiggles her fingers in front of Barkley's nose and he snaps, powerlessly at them.] Oromë húnnái? Raxonna ett'uin?

[ Reasons, Galadriel. Reasons.

The words that she says almost sound like music, and while they're clearly not part of the fragmented language they hold onto in the trees, it makes Merrill smiles to hear them nonetheless. Not that she has the slightest idea what she's saying, but Barkley woofs happily before playfully growling once more and continuing his play. ]

Not keepers, exactly, but when the elves held the Dales the Emerald Knights fought with wolves at their side.

[ There's a little laugh and she pauses again to scratch the pup behind the ears. ]

Hopefully this one won't ever actually have to fight with me.

shut up and dance with me ;;

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