open | i'm somewhere, you're nowhere

[paperwing]

WHO: Sabriel and you
WHAT: It's been a year since Sabriel became a Warden, and she's feeling a little down.
WHEN: (waves hands) Anytime before the Wardens leave west, and going forward to early Drakonis.
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: CW: descriptions of death, violence. If you wanna use this for something else you had in mind for Sab, that's cool too. If you'd like a specific starter, shoot me a PM or ping me on plurk!

Sabriel is not one to seek attention, but she is known, and noted. She could have been like any other mage, diligent, studious, one who keeps herself busy and assists when she's needed and sometimes meddles when she's not. But when you have a voice amongst the mages, and speak for them, you're noticed; when you're a Warden, the same. The Warden's reasons for being here were still not publicly known, and their actions were, as always, shrouded in mystery, and chock full of secrets.

Sabriel had a few secrets of her own that even her fellow Wardens did not know. Burdens. Secrets kept so tightly sealed and pushed away to deal with later, later, later. But, later was now. It was the time of year she dreaded, days creeping forward and her usual distractions fell short. She could keep an Old God's song at bay for so long, but what she had done? The guilt for it, the remembrance? Not so much.

Too many secrets. She was not as pure hearted as they assumed, by far. They could guess at her father being dead, if they were so inclined; an Abhorsen only rises when their predecessor falls. That was the way of it. He had been a Warden for almost three score years, so they would assume it was his Calling that took his life.

It wasn't, in the end. She had failed. It had been her.

Everyone had a time to die. She knew that, the cornerstone of everything Terciel had ever taught her. But she had never dealt with it, never faced it, and never, ever, forgave herself. And now, it was later, and she didn't know how. She was different, changed. For those who knew her, it wouldn't be difficult to notice.

There was an attempt at normality, but it was fleeting. She attends meetings without input, takes tea with a polite thanks and conversation falls short. Where once she sat in the library and studied, now her time there was spent staring from the windows, unseeing at the courtyard below. Sometimes she would hum the unfamiliar ditty that was her constant companion, but what she saw were the fields of Ghislain. She sits in her corner of the tavern in the evenings, wine and meal untouched, appetite lost, something telling for someone who rigorously planned her next meal. None of this - going through the motions, if it could be called that - was for her benefit, but for those who were going west. They didn't have to know. They had enough to deal with, and she had her own orders to follow, if she were not to go with them. Let them think it was sullenness, nothing more.

Once they go, however, she retreats to her shared room, insomnia's hold tight. She lays awake at night, and sleeps during the day, steps along the battlements when it's at its worst and fights back those damned tears when it's little better.

How else was she to deal with this but by herself? It was all she had ever done.

( WILDCARD! AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT )

Comments

[gatheringstorm]

Sabriel's listlessness hasn't gone unnoticed, not by a certain Vashoth mage who remembers her from childhood. Korrin hasn't had much time for socializing, between the mess at Emprise du Lion and one crisis after another even outside it. To say that the last month has been eventful is a laughable understatement. And yet, there's a twinge of guilt as Sabriel's silence during council meetings is noted. She hates seeing her old friend like this, and without knowing what can be done, can't let her think she has to go through it alone.

So when the Warden is spotted at the tavern with her food untouched yet again, Korrin heads over a rests a hand on Sabriel's shoulder. Her voice is softer than it usually is in the noisy tavern, but she's close enough not to worry about being heard. "Hey, let's get out of here for a while. It's getting too crowded anyway."

[paperwing]

What had been a comfort was now noise; shapeless noise, almost stifling. There's a growing frustration underneath her vacant expression, and it's only the touch of Korrin's hand on her shoulder that pulls her from both. Her eyes move, to look at her eldest friend, but she says nothing. She's quiet still a little while after that, even, considering - or, just thinking about what Sabriel, the normal one, would do when given the option to go. If it even were an option.

It is not a bad one. Sabriel nods, mutely, making to stand. As her friend wishes.

"That sounds like a good idea."

[gatheringstorm]

"Good. I'm getting tired of the noise." Korrin has tolerated a lot louder, but she's not in the mood to deal with it and listen to Sabriel. So, outside it is. She'll head up the stairs to the right, preferring the view that the battlements affords them. Between that and the evening breeze, she feels a little invigorated already and looks over to her Warden friend, hoping it's done the same for her in some measure.

"What's on your mind, Sabriel? Something is, I know that. You don't skip meals and give thousand-yard stares at council meetings for 'nothing'."