faderift | Discretion?

WHO: Maevaris Tilani and YOU.
WHAT: Maevaris finally reaches Skyhold.
WHEN: Third week of Harvestmere
WHERE: A large spectacle of a tent that she has set up in the Courtyard; Around Skyhold In General
NOTES: Maevaris can be found all over Skyhold after her arrival, so feel free to wildcard me! Points of interest would be the tavern, library, or great hall. Prose or brackets are fine.

If there is one inconvenience to be associated with nobility, it is formality. Everything is a process. What should be a simple decision can take months of planning and preparation and considering the opinions of anyone and everyone of importance. Maevaris making the choice to journey to Skyhold is no exception, and by the time she is set to arrive, there is a mountain’s worth of paperwork that documents every detail of her departure. Appropriate, given that her final destination is an actual mountain.

Letters upon more letters are exchanged, bags upon more bags are packed, and once she is as sure as she can be that her affairs at home have been left in capable hands, she leaves with an entourage fitting of her station. The journey is long and at least mildly cumbersome, by her standards, though even that comes to an end eventually. Formalities and travel times be damned, she makes it. The Inquisition is going to experience the awe and wonder that is Maevaris Tilani, yet.

There are no trumpets announcing her entrance, nor is there a red carpet paving her way. She is followed by a host of people carrying her belongings, but the event appears to be otherwise average in nature. It is nightfall when her company settles in, and they quickly make themselves scarce, working away on something by the light of the moon in an empty corner of the grounds. All in all, it is not nearly as flashy an arrival as one might expect from a magister of her reputation.

By the light of day, her living quarters tell another story.

A large, tucked away section of the Skyhold courtyard that was previously unused is now home to a tent. A giant, gaudy tent, draped in expensive fabrics and immediately offensive to the eye. One that is intimately familiar with Tevinter may note that the style is distinctly reflective of the country, the shapes and colors mirroring their current trends of high fashion. Anyone else is likely to have any number of impressions, ranging from the structure being one of magnificence and beauty to something that is utterly cringe-worthy. One fact remains a constant: It commands attention. The flash is now in full effect.

For those seeking an audience with the mysterious tent’s owner that wish to be polite, there is a bell hanging from a tassel at the entrance that is just waiting to be rung. For those with less manners—or perhaps less of an eye for details—there does not appear to be anything stopping them from barging right on in.

For all its ornaments and imposing presence, it is only a tent, after all.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The owner does emerge, in time. How could it be anyone but, wearing feathers and jewels and such a lovely shade of blue? She has a clipboard in hand, and her attention seems divided between it and the messenger following her that she is in mid-conversation with.

“I understand it is not a decision to be made lightly, but it is not one I can make for them. They must choose for themselves. And soon, before the weather renders such a decision null. That will be all.”

The messenger bows and leaves following a wave of Maevaris’ hand. The magister resumes looking down at her clipboard. Looks up as a certain someone catches her eye. Looks back down, back up, gears turning—And then she lowers her arms, the board left dangling by her side in one hand and the other planted firmly on her waist. She nods in Kas’ direction.

“Can I help you?”

Wow. Don't mind him, his eyes are on the floor and his face way too flushed. That was... a really, really pretty woman in all fanciness, and here he's been a jerk, stalking around her tent.

"Um..." Right, words. How did one use those, again? The teen wasn't quite sure any more. "I was just... curious. Ma'am."

At least that was honest. What was she? She didn't look like any of the nobles he'd seen before, with their masks or furs or strange fashions. This was completely different.

"I'm sorry to disturb you!"

“That’s only natural. You don’t see something like this every day.” Maevaris finds all the bumbling awkwardness incredibly charming, and it shows as she laughs lightheartedly, waving his apology off. “No need for apologies, young man. I should really be thanking you, saving me from more serious matters such as you have.”

With a flourishing bow, she is quick to answer his unasked question. No need for him to voice it, when it’s written all over his face. She doubts he would be willingly talking to her if he knew of her identity beforehand, at any rate. Perhaps he’s too young to spot the signs. Give him time. “Magister Maevaris Tilani, at your service.”

Oh no, she was a nice noble. That's... really weird. Kas isn't sure what to think, mildly enchanted by her laugh and the bow and all the prettiness. It reminded him a bit of the talk he had with Varric and the battle Empress.

There's a little gasp as Mae tells the teen her name, and he looks somewhere between intrigued and worried. A magister? Weren't they horrible blood mages that kept slaves and fought the qunari? He'd heard a lot of bad things in his kith and here.

"Oh," he squeaks, not quite sure how to deal with this. "You're... um... okay. Are you here to see the other magister?" That would be Dorian, but he's never met the man, only heard the people talk about him. Apparently he was corrupting the Herald or something.

“No. Well— Yes, but that’s not the only reason I’m here.” Maevaris doesn’t bother to correct him that Dorian is not a magister, not technically. That’s who she assumes he’s talking about, anyway. If there was another magister here, she is sure she’d know of it. Explanations of the class differences in Tevinter are rarely grasped by outsiders, and on the off chance they are, they are usually ignored in favor of blanket terms. She still corrects those that should know better, but she’ll spare the teen a lecture.

Her explanation is considered in a similar vein. Overcomplicating things will get her nowhere. Oversimpflying will only make him feel coddled. Even so, better to start easy and work her way up as needed over getting lost in the details.

“I’m here to keep my fellow countrymen from making a very stupid mistake. And to rectify one that’s already been made.”

He would probably be very grateful if he knew he'd been spared a lecture, because noble stuff really flew over his head anyway and it would just have been frustrating for the both of them in the end. As it was, the teen nods sagely at her explanation. It made sense.

Even more appreciated would have been the fine line between coddling and over-complicating. It seemed Mae had a good head on her shoulders when it came to prideful teens stumbling over their tongues to speak yet carrying far too much pride in their small bodies.

"You mean the Elder One? And the Venatori people?" People talked, but he honestly had little knowledge about just what they were beyond 'Corypheus' and bad things. Tevinter, people said. It was all Tevinter's fault.

"I've never heard of a noble lady to travel so far and come help with things. You must be very brave."

Maevaris was a prideful teenager, too, once upon a time. She still carries that pride with her, but she’s matured over the years, grown into it. As Kas undoubtedly will himself, if given the chance. Empathy in this regard is not difficult to conjure, nor is her impressed expression when he quickly comes to the right conclusion. There’s a certain naïveté about him that makes it difficult to gauge how much he might know, and Mae draws comfort from having apparently made the right call.

“Correct. They pose a threat to everyone, not just the South. I wish more of my people understood that...” She glances down briefly before shaking her head. She’s not going to entertain that train of thought, not right now. “Nonetheless, I will do what I can to stem the tide. It is the least I can do.”

Tevinter is easy to blame. And often deserving of it, true— There is no disputing that. The country’s reputation has made Maevaris’ reception a mixed one, and the kind and unassuming words of the Qunari boy catch her off guard and make her laugh warmly again.

“Bravery is one of the more positive words you could use, yes. I’ll take it. A nice change from all the negativity I’ve heard. How very thoughtful of you.”

Oh no, now he's blushing again. Stupid hormones and pretty women. Rubbing the back of his head somewhat awkwardly, Kas manages an uncertain smile. He had a thousand questions for this woman, but he also knew who he was. What he was.

That she was even speaking to him was a surprise in itself, and he didn't want to jinx that. How many former street kids could say they had a civil discussion with a noble lady that didn't treat him like an idiot or spit after him?

Very few.

"I'm glad some from your homeland are here to help. There more there are, the less it looks like all of the place is bad. Then maybe there won't be a war or something just because people hold a grudge." All he ever heard was that Tevinter was bad, after all. Now that some people from the place was responsible for so much death and chaos, it seemed like it screamed for war.

That just meant more people like him and he's not okay with that. It's why he's here, too. To change things, to be something.

"Will you be fighting, too? Like... actually killing things?" Kas makes an awkward gesture that may, with imagination, be mimicking casting a spell.

Discretion?

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