i try my best to become poetry. i take a bath and stain the water with black ink.

[trouvaille]

WHO: Gwenaëlle Vauquelin + YOU.
WHAT: Gwenaëlle arrives in Skyhold, etcetera.
WHEN: The current AC period.
WHERE: Skyhold.
NOTES: She is arriving with a retinue, including resources for the Inquisition (a physician who will join the healers included) and her own maid. Also, if you prefer spam to prose, no problem! I will match however you tag in.

( FOR ANDERS )
Gwenaëlle does not seek out a healer herself.

She sends her lady's maid - Katell, a Halamshiral-born elf - to give the anxious request that her lady does not wish to come to the healer's tents and won't he please accompany her back to the lady's rooms?

The small suite that Katell shows him and his accompaniment to is still in the midst of being unpacked for Gwenaëlle's comfort, but even in the arrival chaos it's plain that someone (presumably the Comte Vauquelin) has gone to great efforts to make her as comfortable as can be done, making the rooms a small oasis of Orlesian familiarity, decorated as befits a young woman of her station and inclinations. Silk hangings, art, an already mostly full bookshelf, a full length mirror, her own bedding - and the prideful creature herself sitting on a cushioned chaise, her back stiff and straight, her small hands fidgeting anxiously with the edge of her robe until a moment after the door opens, flattening immediately.

It presents an immediate explanation as to why she might not have wanted to come down to the healing tents; the bandages pressed against the thin robe tell a story that she might not want to go down where she doesn't feel entirely safe to undress.

( FOR ADELAIDE )
It's with some reluctance that Gwenaëlle seeks out the woman she persists in thinking of as Councilor Leblanc rather than Gregoire's sister; he had been persuasive, but she hadn't forgotten that he'd never actually met his older sister. A person could write anything in a letter. Had they even exchanged letters? It hadn't occurred to her to ask, too fixated on the fact he hadn't done anything else - only there's no one else here she might claim anything like acquaintance with and he did promise, and inasmuch as she trusts anyone, she might trust that Gregoire wouldn't make her a promise he didn't at least try to keep. She will, she decides, graciously not blame him for it when this goes awry. She won't even say she told him so. She will let her disappointed silence speak for itself. It will be a very short letter.

He will be so sorry.

At least Cyprienne isn't here to see her fall on her face. She squares her shoulders and dismisses Katell, carrying on up to the battlements (a bit of privacy at this hour - no one needs to see her fall on her face) unaccompanied with a shawl pulled close against the chill in the air, her face bare of the Orlesian mask she'd worn on her journey. It feels strange and uncomfortable to go without it, but she's observed enough of Skyhold in the short time she's been here to hesitate to so visually separate herself, however much she might like to be separate in as many way as possible. Even Madame de Fer is seen here bare-faced -

And if it's good enough for her, then Gwenaëlle is not going to be the one to suggest Lady Vivienne has misstepped. She's stuck here for the foreseeable future; she has to try to adapt. To learn. To be smart whether it's comfortable or not.

"Lady Leblanc?"

( FOR ANYONE )
Having reached the end of her journey to Skyhold, Gwenaëlle isn't entirely sure what - happens next. Her father had sent her here because what else could he do, but he'd been understandably vague about what he imagined being there might entail for her, and she had her doubts that anyone would be interested in helping her figure it out. They all had better things to be doing than paying any heed to some Orlesian debutante with a shard in her hand; what use is that going to be to the Inquisition? It isn't as if they could send her off to close rifts.

It probably isn't as if they'd do that, she thinks, with a spike of fear.

So- for a lack of anything to do with herself (and with Katell engaged in the business of unpacking and organising her accommodation, and for the time being no relief to be found in retreating there), she explores. She goes to see what everyone else does with their time, peering into anywhere she isn't hurried away from, huge eyed and a little bit suspicious.

Comments

[trouvaille]

"Do you think that they might? Tevinter, rally in truth behind his banner?"

Whatever else she might have said - whatever she keeps herself from saying about the fragments of Arlathan and all of the hurt-child parts of her that can allow there to be no value in all that isn't ever going to be hers the way it could have been her sisters' - that question, rather suddenly delivered, seems an earnest one in every expectation of being given an intelligent answer. It's very easy very quickly to think of Morrigan both as someone who will have an intelligent answer to that disquieting notion and as someone who might give it to her, if only simply because she thought to ask and wait to hear.

Questioning doesn't always teach you anything more than how a person chooses to answer them - but sometimes learning what it is that someone wants you to know is valuable in itself. Gwenaëlle remembers as much often enough to take, as often as she can be bothered, the opportunity to keep asking when answers are forthcoming.

She might learn a little about the subject. She will almost always learn something interesting about her teacher.

[arcaneadvisor]

"Who can say for certain, I would be wary to put much stock in it when a far larger concern would be in what will happen with Orlais and if Nevarra will become at all involved, and how long it will take the Chantry to choose a successor to Justinia. However, they will certainly watch with great interest. There will always be those in Tevinter seeking to reclaim what they believe to be rightfully theirs, and if there is a chance where the south would look to be weak, if they believed that Corypheus could truly lift them to the exalted heights of old again? There are those who would do it in a heartbeat. But they have not so much been bitten as they have been savaged, left to lick their wounds a long time. They are shrewd and canny these days."

Venatori have attacked those responsible for bringing her eluvian to Skyhold when much of what Skyhold has dealt with thus far have been the Red Templars, so there is less to go on but the reports are disturbing. All but the mages seem to have worn shackles, not that it surprises her, not in truth, but it is one thing to know of it, and quite another to have it confirmed in the cold light of day. Not that there's very much they can do about it but there's also whatever strange rumours flit in and out from the Grey Wardens but she has her truce with Alistair, and she is good enough to keep some secrets.

It wouldn't do to be fearmongering but Tevinter is a hungry creature and it is to her own advantage that Tevinter and the Venatori aren't forgotten about simply because people wish to wring their hands about the Red Templars. Sentiment gets in the way there, people upset because oh poor Templars, it might be someone they knew. No one forced them to take the lyrium same as no one forced them to be a Templar in the first place.

It is very unlike how the mages were forced into Circles, and though she has little enough sympathy for them even now, her sympathy for Templars is even less.

[trouvaille]

Gwenaëlle makes a sound that's barely a sound; a huff of air, a quirk of her mouth. "No one," she observes, "wants a fight they're not already assured of winning." And if she says it with some asperity...the jostling for power and position and presentation of all of this is hard not to be frustrated by when the urgency of it has been driven into her body like a wound. By the time everyone agrees the world ought to be saved, what will that look like?

It isn't the Inquisition she worries about tearing itself apart so much as the great nations. As a cause, she wouldn't have guessed saving the world would struggle so with drumming up support, and yet - cannot be surprised by the truth of it. By the bitterness and infighting and those who will not see what's in front of them because admitting it is frightening and pride is more important than survival.

All opinions she might not have thought to hold, were she still safely tucked up in Orlais, untouched by the breach - but she isn't. So here they are.

[arcaneadvisor]

"History is forgotten very quickly. For all intents and purposes, this is very much like a Blight; there is a Magister, there is something very much like an archdemon, there is something tainting the very world itself, indeed it is worse. A Blight is more readily defeated." It had taken only a year to go from Ostagar to the Hero being named the Hero after all, drumming up the support though it had felt like pulling teeth at the time; now the sky is torn apart, people are falling through it, there is a civil war in truth in Orlais of all places with the Divine dead, the Mages and Templars have barely finished fighting and yet what do they have to show for it? Everyone crammed into a fortress with holes in the roof or camped in the valley, all of it groaning under the weight. "I am sure Vivienne and Josephine meant to assure the gathered company that we are the winning side, though I think it will take rather more than parlour tricks to accomplish that."

It will take real words, real action. It will take Celene perhaps pulling her head out of her backside for five minutes to get her house in order because Morrigan might not care for Orlais or for the Game but Gaspard is a tyrant, a rabid dog barely kept on the leash for the moment. Gaspard in charge would see a much more dangerous world. When the dust settles after all this she can barely imagine the paths she will have to tread.

"They will take some convincing. There are plenty of very empty heads simply waiting to be filled."