faderift | Definitely not a Dalish...

WHO: Fenris and whomever
WHAT: An elf that is so far from Dalish as it's possible to be arrives in Skyhold
WHEN: Late Harvestmere
WHERE: Around Skyhold, heading to the Herald's Rest
NOTES: Open to all - he's just arrived, feel free to grab him - he'll be heading for the booze as fast as possible

He'd taken a circuitous route to get here, chasing down a particularly nasty slaver troupe that he'd run across previously, but had been too heavily guarded before. This time, only two armed guards had made it easy.

A lot of people were heading back to their homes once more. He didn't care about that, not really. All he cared was that Tevinter wasn't getting it's latest shipment of slaves. But it was something one of the slavers said as he tried to beg for his life that had caught Fenris' attention - that Tevinter Magisters were seen at the Inquistion. It was what had sent him scurrying there as fast as he could. Magisters trying to infiltrate something that had set itself up for good could only go one way, and frankly, it would be easy pickings.

Of course, he knew he would be recognizable to them. Danarius had paraded him about too often for him not to be known, Still, it was a calculated risk. Besides, he'd heard Isabela and Varric were there. People he could trust.

It was vast, he realized as he joined the crowds of refugees pouring into Skyhold. A vast fortress up in the mountains. What better place to launch an invasion of either Orlais or Ferelden from. At least he could see why the Magisters were drawn here.

[ooc I'm heading to bed with a migraine, but I'll get these in the morning.]

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[ Her head cocked slightly, eyes fixing on Fenris as he drew nearer. Snakes had bitten him and left their venom there, too, markings clear as day. But something about him has her jerking back, just a touch. ]

Never going back.

[ Was that him? Her? It resonates strangely in her throat, at least to her, and she's not sure who the words belong to, but they need to be said. ]

[He took a step back from her, frowning. She was a strange one, but then he'd met many strange people over the years, especially in Kirkwall, and this one didn't seem dangerous - yet, anyway.]

Going back where? I've heard that you are safe here at the Inquisition.

Are you?

[ Safe? Safe is questionable. Nowhere is safe. They're in danger from themselves, from everyone, animals barely caged and leashed. There are dangers here few imagine, but because nothing's happened no one suspects. They're allowed to believe it safe enough to stay.

But there is always danger. She is dangerous. So is Bruce. So is Cole. So is Fenris, in his way, and she doesn't disguise the hollow way she stares at him. So much hate in one person, and if he knew what she was...

Would he be any safer than the wilds? ]

[He frowned, taken aback by her question. How did it turn from her being safe to him being safe?]

I...I can take care of myself. [Woe betide anyone who tried to hurt or attack him. He knew he was dangerous - he never hid who he was.]

[ Maybe that was the important thing. Self-reliance. But she couldn't, she...

That brought a frown, her eyes dropping in confusion as the thoughts rifled through her head, leaves caught in a wind as she grasped desperately for them. He'd emerged because he was strong, because he could take care of himself. Important. That was important, save it for later, tuck it away.

Her fingers closed into her palm delicately. ]

Sharp along the edges. Too many thorns. They turn inwards and bleed but you can't pull them out, not when they're what protect you.

[ It's murmured, only loud enough for him to overhear, though that may not have been the purpose of saying them. Words sometimes made the thoughts clearer.

Sometimes not. It was always a dice roll, these days. ]

I can't...be that. I can't hurt him, holds too tightly, bled too much for this already...

[He should look for someone to help her, shouldn't he? Because he had no clue what was going on here.

But he heard her last comment, the one that was muttered too quietly for anyone to overhear. He had a feeling that he was meant to, or was he imagining it?]

You can be whatever you want to be. [He firmly believed it. He wanted to be free, and though he didn't quite know what to do with it, how to act now that he was, he got what he wanted.] Who is 'him'?

Simon.

[ Who was somewhere nearby, likely looking for her, having lost sight of her through no real fault of his own. That was the trouble with freedom. It was as vast as it was nebulous, easy to lose yourself in. Which direction do you take?

What happens when it's the wrong one?

River's eyes lift to rest on the elf once more, the hard lines around his eyes. ]

My brother. He just...wanted to help.

[A family member who wanted to help. How novel.]

Is your brother here? [And if so, was it wise to go and fetch him? Though he wasn't sure that this girl should be left on her own. There was something... oddly compelling about her.]

[ Another wrinkle appears in her brow. Focus. Simon. ]

It's loud.

[ Which isn't quite an answer, but her eyes drift from the walkway to the vast mountains beyond, cold and silent save for the whistle of the wind over the jagged stone. ]

I couldn't hear him anymore.

[The view from where they were was stunning, he would admit that at least.]

What is loud? [Talking to her was very confusing.]

Definitely not a Dalish...

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