faderift | We come from the land of the ice and snow

We come from the land of the ice and snow

WHO: Open to all
WHAT: Thedas' strange new guests are delivered to Skyhold
WHEN: 25 Harvestmere (October)
WHERE: Skyhold main gate & courtyard
NOTES: This is Part I of a two-part intro event, Part II will be posted tomorrow.

A long uphill tromp through the snowy mountains ends at Skyhold, the distant fortress finally before them in all its tumble-down glory. There is time to admire the drop into the river gorge far below as they cross the only bridge into the castle; it is briefly backed up with traffic, several carts bearing supplies and visitors stalled as the portcullis is raised. Those coming to help catalog and unload the shipment and greet the guests, or otherwise present near the front courtyard, will find themselves witness to a far more interesting arrival.

Guards at the gate carry the word quickly, and more gather, though they make no move to imprison the strange people who fell out of a rift. They just line the perimeter and keep a close watch. Perhaps this adds a level of tension to this first encounter, but it also reassures the many who are unsettled by the uncertain turn of events and keeps in check those who might attack first and ask questions later. Others will no doubt soften the Inquisition's first impression, offering food, information, and other assistance.

Medical attention is available in the tented-encircled corner of the courtyard where the wounded from Haven are still treated. The quartermaster's assistant is called upon to provide spare odds and ends of clothing to those in need, and to issue blankets for all, though they are left to fend for themselves to find places to sleep.

Any mage willing to help is called in to do so and a cluster forms in one side of the courtyard to examine the rifters. They are objects of curiosity in general, but the marks on their hands are of particular interest, resembling smaller slivers of the Herald's famous mark. Despite their best efforts, no mage will be able to provide any real insight after this initial assessment. What the rifters and their marks are is a question they cannot answer today.

But one question is answered: in the midst of all the commotion, another Inquisition agent arrives from Haven, rushing in red-faced to announce that the Herald's body has finally been found.

OOC

It will be decided (partly for OOC reasons, admittedly) that the rifters will not be imprisoned at this point, but they will be watched carefully, and the guards are on alert for any strange behavior by people with glowing hands or strange attire. And of course, their freedom can be revoked at any time if they're deemed a danger. Though there are some OOC considerations at play here, you're welcome to ICly lobby for more or less freedom for the rifters, and things may change based on IC action/consensus.

Also: Part II, aka the log for the funeral/wake/etc. event, will go up tomorrow!

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She really did have a nice smile, surprising considering what he'd heard about the rifters... But then everything was a rumor at this point to Simon, and he had more important matters to focus on than how she managed to seem so warm so readily. Simon tilted his head as he looked back down at his patient, forcing the smile back off his face as she brought up bragging rights.

"Well, if that's something you think you'd like, I could try to leave you something more impressive," Simon offered, tone idle and teasing.

"Ah, n-no, that's all right ser..." the soldier stammered, looking between them and turning pink rather than the pale he'd been before. "Whatever you think is best s'fine with me..."

Simon broke into a wry, broader smile, straightening his back and working on the last workings of the spell. He nodded once more to Ariadne, gesturing for her to pull her hands back as the warm light increased in strength, gradually but finally completely sealing the cleaned wound back together.

Ariadne was pleased that she'd been able to put the soldier at ease. But even more so that she'd managed to coax a smile out of the healer. He seemed so awfully serious. And she supposed that was good. Healing was serious work. Still, from what she'd seen so far, it had probably been a very long time since he'd had a moment of levity, much like the healers who attended to the refugees back home.

Sadly, there were fewer and fewer refugees each day. The realm was falling. But Ariadne still clung to the hope that there was a solution out there. They just had to find it.

And the same would have to go for this place too.

She pulled her hands back, standing up so she could be at eye level with the soldier. "That wasn't so bad, was it? Sir..." She faltered, not knowing the healer's name. "...Healer did a great job."

As common as magic could be in Thedas, the soldier still couldn't resist pressing his hands over the thin white line that had once been a gory wound and letting out a quietly marveled huff of breath. Barely any blood remained at all, thanks to Ariadne. Left to heal on its own it would have been much worse...or more likely, would have eventually killed him. The soldier made another grunt as he started to sit up, Simon leaning back and taking the chance to rest for just a moment as his patient gathered his things to leave offering several hurried 'thank you's as he went.

When Simon opened his eyes again the soldier was on his way out, leaving him alone with the rifter. They finally had a moment of peace it seemed, at least until the next patient came in.

"It's Simon," he finally remembered to offer, brow lifting and inclining his head. "Just Simon, is fine...and you?"

It was a small thing. But for someone who didn't like sitting still, wiping away the blood made Ariadne feel moderately accomplished. It was, after all, the first useful thing she'd really been able to contribute to anyone since the fight. And that, in and of itself, had been...

Well.

She still didn't know what to think.

But she turned her attention away from her thoughts for the time being, offering Simon a warm smile. "A pleasure to meet you Simon," she said. It was a funny name. A strange name. But she decided it suited him. "My name is Ariadne," she added. "But you can call me 'Airy' if you like. Almost everyone back home does."

"A pleasure to meet you as well, Airy," he returned with a weary but warm smile. All that was left of the soldier was a bloodstained blanket, which Simon decided was best replaced before another patient came in. He started on that, pulling the blanket down and folding it neatly in half, hiding the stain while gesturing for the rifter to make herself comfortable on a nearby low stool..

"You're not injured, right?" he asked, sure he had already but wanting to be sure now that he didn't have someone immediately at risk of bleeding out to be tended to. There was also the chance that she'd neglected to mention one while he was busy and would be more willing now that they were alone.

A capable fighter, Ariadne had managed to hold her own in the chaos that heralded--or accompanied?--her arrival. There was some blood under her fingernails, but none of it was her own. It bothered her, of course. She didn't exactly revel in harming others. But it had been a choice between a rampaging demon and a nice boy who had saved her skin.

She frowned a little, glancing at her hands. "Well," she mused. "It's not an injury exactly. But this thing in my hand really hurts."

Her palm wasn't aching nearly as much as it had been before. But the glowing shard made her feel wildly ill-at-ease. And she was told it was magic.

...maybe the magic responsible for changing the color of her skin?

Ariadne was hardly an expert in that sort of thing.

Simon knew more about the fade than most, being tied to it as a mage...but there was so much to it that he was hardly an expert. All he knew was that these rifters had marks, similar to the late Herald's, which was still just something Simon had heard murmurings of. How to make it go away was quite beyond him, at least not without a long time to study them. The pain, however, absolutely was something Simon felt confident he could help with.

"Let me see?" he asked, holding out a hand to take Ariadne's. "What's the pain like? Sharp, dull...?"

Ariadne hesitated--for a second or two--before she slowly opened up her palm to Simon.

It was nothing personal. Well, it was, but in a different sort of way from usual. Although she'd spent a great deal of time pretending to be Human, gotten used to their ways, one thing that always managed to put Ariadne ill-at-ease was the casual way that they seemed to touch each other's hands. For an Alastrian, it was an incredibly intimate gesture. The beginning of an Alastrian's kiss. She'd never administered the kiss herself but...

Well. She understood it.

But no. He was just a healer. A kind soul. This was nothing like that. Still, her voice was a little quieter when she said, "It was sharp at first...then dull..."

Simon had absolutely no idea what he was insinuating by asking to take Ariadne's hand. The hesitation was assumed to be because of his calling. Watching a mage work was one thing, but it never failed to be something else when a mage wanted to use his magic on them. But Simon wasn't interested in casting anything just yet...who knew how it would react to the mark. All he wanted to do was examine.

"But it hasn't been getting better?" he asked to clarify, cradling her hand in his palm and drawing it closer to look. The mark itself was difficult to really see, only appearing to be a strange green light emanating from her skin. Not a wound, though the redness around it made it clear that it was irritating her.

"Let's try something..." Simon reached behind him, looking over his shoulder to find one of the poultices he'd put together earlier, being sure to mind her hand and not jostle it. "...and see if numbing the area will help."

A strip of soft cloth, a mixture of cool herbs, which was then bound carefully over the mark would let the medicine soak the skin and hopefully soothe the pain without triggering any wayward magic.

She let him do his work, all traces of her earlier uncertainty melting away. Her thoughts turned to other things though. Could she even administer the Kiss any more? She wasn't entirely sure what she was. Her skin was the wrong color now. And she couldn't make it go away. And yet, she still retained her sensitivity. She could still scream like an Alastrian. Use her claws. Feel the scars on her back.

So what was she now, anyway?

It was a question she had to approach with caution. Especially given the fact that she knew these people were afraid of demons. But maybe, maybe there was a way to do it without arousing too much suspicion.

"May I ask you a strange question?"

Simon barely glanced up as she spoke, getting to the finishing touches by then. Since it was going over her palm the poultice needed to be bound carefully. It would do Ariadne no good if it came loose with movement, but making it tight enough it cut off the flow of blood would be even worse.

"Hm? Of course..." he said, gaze flicking up briefly before looking back down, a brief check to see if he was causing any undue pain as well as to show he was listening.

If the rumors about the rifters were true, Simon imagined she would have a number of strange questions...

The best lies were always the truth. Lysia had taught her that when training her to do the messy work that she sometimes had to do. And Ariadne was very adept, even if she hated it.

"Well," she said slowly. "I feel like something about me changed when I came through the rift." Truth enough. "Everything looks so strange." Also true. Skyhold was nothing like the landscape she was used to back home. "And I'm just wondering...how I look to you, exactly. I mean...when you look at my skin, for example, what color do you see?"

There. All of it the truth. But hiding the ultimate lie.

Well. That was certainly a strange question. Oh it had started out innocuously enough, or at least strange within acceptable parameters. The mark was certainly a change, and if she was from the Fade (or someplace beyond it) then he could see how Thedas would appear strange...

But how she looked? Did she expect some illusion at work, or did she no longer trust her own senses?

The confusion played visibly across Simon's face, his brow lifting and his lips twisting into a thin frown before his features settled back again, looking down at her hand again for more than just his work. The bandaged palm was turned over, letting him see the back of her hand and along her wrist.

"It's...about the same as mine," he said. "A very pale pink, I would say. As for the rest, well, you look like a young human woman. Long dark hair, brown eyes...I think you look rather pretty?"

Pale pink. So her eyes weren't deceiving her. She's almost hoped it was true. As much as she'd always wished to be Human, losing her Alastrian heritage now and here of all places--in this strange and unpredictable place--felt more like a punishment. How could she protect herself if she didn't even know what she was?

She shook her head. "I thought there might be something wrong with my eyes," she sighed. Which was a half-truth. Or maybe wishful thinking. "Maybe it's just taking time to adjust from coming through the...rift?" A whole truth, although not so much about her eyes. "The last few days have been confusing."

The full truth.

Ariadne flexed her fingers a little bit. The bandage was helping. At least, she decided it was. "Thank you," she added, turning her eyes up. "For the compliment. You're very pretty too."

Edited 2015-12-04 13:27 (UTC)

At first it almost sounded like she expected her skin to be anything other than what he'd told her, but then when she mentioned her eyes that seemed to be a more plausible explanation. Maybe passing through the rift had done something to her her vision, and the colors she saw now weren't what they were supposed to be. The Fade could do stranger things to people to be sure.

Yet as Simon lifted his head peering as if to check how her eyes were dilated in the lantern light, she was thanking him. He only smiled gently, thinking she meant the poultice at first, but it shifted when she instead brought up the compliment and went so far as to return it.

"...no one's ever called me that before," he said, slightly stunned.

Compliments were another facet of the Human experience that Ariadne had yet to master. Mostly because they were all nonverbal in the Alastrian culture. You thanked another person by running your hand through their hair. And you acknowledged a job well done with a slight jerk of the chin.

Humanoids had to make everything complicated.

"I don't see why not," she argued, content to drift away from the topic of her skin color and what it was supposed to be. "You have a pleasing face."

Simon blinked as he reminded himself that Ariadne was a rifter. There were probably things she did differently where she was from, and being startlingly upfront about compliments might have been one of them. Or maybe she didn't consider it a compliment at all, but was just stating what she considered a fact? That left Simon feeling horribly vain, so he chose to assume the former instead.

Still, she was technically right, it wasn't as if he'd never been told he was attractive before. But the specific term 'pretty' was what was new...

"Well, oh," he said, head ducking for a moment and ears turning slightly pink. "Thank you...I didn't mean to seem ungrateful."

She noticed the way he flushed. Which sort of made him more pleasing. If only because she could appreciate the feeling. It could be very, very awkward talking about physical appearances.

Just as it could be very, very awkward talking to a stranger.

But then, Ariadne liked strangers.

"You don't," she assured him. "On the contrary, you seem like a very nice, kind man. Even if we've only met."

Simon's mouth tugged into a smile, still not that comfortable taking compliments, but at least that was a bit easier than being called pretty. The mage swallowed to clear his throat, endeavouring not to feel embarrassed...or at least not to let it show when he did.

"I'm only doing what I can," Simon said, straightening his posture and taking a breath. "You...you came in wanting to help when you had every right to find a tent and recuperate for the rest of the night after what you'd been through..."

Simon gestured to her with an open hand.

"It's true we've only just met, but I'd say that so far I'm impressed..."

She smiled politely, averting her eyes, the way she often saw Human females do when complimented. "I just want to make it known that none of us...Rifters...mean you any harm. We're not evil, we're not..."

Ariadne let the word 'demons' remain implied.

After all, she was a demon. At least, but realm standards back home.

"Is there anything else I can do to help?"

"I believe you," Simon answered after a thoughtful moment. He wasn't the best judge, and having her come out and say that she wanted to prove that she meant no harm was a little...well, actions spoke louder than words and she had helped without hesitation. That was the important bit as far as Simon was concerned. He wasn't the man in charge, however, and his word wasn't likely to carry much weight within the Inquisition.

Still, maybe it would at least help Ariadne, to know that she had someone who wanted to trust her.

"As for here? No, I need to clean up for the next wounded but I can manage that," Simon went on. Besides, he didn't want her jostling the poultice... "The other tents might, however. That is...I'm not trying to shoo you out, or anything like that."

"Oh, I didn't think you were," Ariadne said quickly, strangely self-conscious. She shrugged. "I just don't like feeling useless. So if there's something I can do...I should find out."

A part of her wanted to stay. After all the bouncing around she'd been doing, she found Simon's presence somewhat calming. But eventually, she'd only get in the way. And the idea of standing by helpless while someone suffered...

Well. It wasn't for her.

"Thank you so much. For everything. You've been too kind."

"Don't forget to take some time for yourself as well," he said, quietly knowing that he was being something of a hypocrite. Simon worked himself ragged when given half a chance, and here he was telling Ariadne to take it easy. There was a quirk to his smile as he thought of it, and maybe he'd make himself take a break too. Once an opportunity came up, of course.

He looked up at Ariadne again, smiling wider at her thanks. "Happy to have helped...if you ever need anything else, you can probably find me here at the tents."

"I might find you again, even if I don't need you," she replied. "If you don't mind."

It was important to know people. And to let people know her, as it were. At least in the off chance that her secret got out. She wanted it known that she was a kind person.

Which she was.

Just also a bit of a calculating one too.

And anyway, she liked Simon. Like all healers, she felt like his heart must be in the right place. Why else go into such a profession?

Pulling her braid over her shoulder, she dipped into a little curtsy for him. "Good day, sir."

Edited 2015-12-11 02:45 (UTC)

"Not at all..."

Company that wasn't also work would be nice from time to time. Simon couldn't spend every waking moment either mending wounds or minding his sister. Though part of him wanted to, even he knew it was foolish to try. So yes, having someone around to keep him from burning out would be nice.

It helped that Ariadne seemed to be a genuinely kind woman herself and he wanted to get to know her better, of course.

"Be well, Arie," he said, smiling a bit tired and wistful, nodding into a low bow in response to the curtsy before she left.

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We come from the land of the ice and snow

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