Logically, she knew that venturing out into the wilds of Thedas alone was a terrible idea. She had experienced the beasts - and humans - that lurked there first hand over the years. And she herself was not an apt fighter by any means. Sure, she could defend herself, ward away creatures with her magic, and she was quick on her feet which made escaping all the easier. But she still shouldn't have gone out alone.
But she felt she needed to. No time to round of a group or even inform the Inquisitor (her biggest mistake by far) before she headed out. It was a simple quest, too — infiltrate an abandoned (ha) ruin, retrieve the ancient scrolls within, and get out. Simple, it would have been, were it not for the Templars that had laid claim to the land first.
For what it was worth, she did get the scrolls. But she also got a sword to the side, deep enough to leave a trail of blood behind her. A gash on her arm, a limp in her leg, and a few broken ribs from when one of the men had thrown her haphazardly into a wall. How she got away was nothing short of a miracle and quick thinking on her end — a few well placed walls of ice, a pit trap that she didn't even know laid within the walls of the ruins. And speed — thank god for her speed, or she would have died right then and there.
Now she sits, alone and woozy from bloodloss, in an abandoned cabin a decent way away from the ruins. The scrolls she obtained are doused in blood, but safe in one of her satchels as she tries desperately to heal herself. Mana is low. Lyrium nonexistent here. If this is how she dies, she hopes these scrolls are worth it and will be found in the hands of someone that could use them for good.
[ It isn't the first time a member of the Inquisition has squirreled themselves into a secluded corner of Skyhold, but it is the first time he hasn't been able to locate Lior. She has her favorite spots, and she hadn't been in any of them. Honestly, he tries not to worry as he asks around the courtyard if anyone has seen her. It's mere curiosity, not his tendency to mother hen his flock. That is, until one of the scouts insists that she'd left through the gates some time ago. No mention of an escort nor where she was going.
Worry sinks like a heavy stone into the pit of his stomach and it spurs him into action. Running through the courtyard, he yells for Dennet to ready his steed. There's not much time to run back to his quarters, but he needs to grab his staff, at least. It wouldn't do her any good if she were in trouble. His small travelling bag still has a potion and a few tonics. It will have to do. By the time he's out the castle and down the steps, Dennet is waiting with his hart. He's never been more glad for recruiting that man into the Inquisition.
Luthien kicks his heels, spurring the hart past the gates and into the wilderness. He has nothing more to go on than the direction the scout had seen her heading. It's enough. By foot, it would have taken here quite some time, so maybe he will be able to head her off before she gets into any real danger. ]
LIORILEY!
[ The noise undoubtedly calls some unsavory attention to himself, but the desire to find her outweighs his own safety. He doesn't know her exact direction, but there are enough signs for him to follow that he prays are hers. Luthien is not a man of belief, but Andraste pops into his head more often than his own gods. He doesn't know what he will do if she is harmed. ]
[ She hears her name, but it sounds distant and displaced with her mind as hazy as it is now. Like she's hearing it shouted through the fade, all wispy and fading into the cool evening air. Is it real? She can't really tell, but it certainly sounds familiar.
Thoughts of Luthien suddenly flit into her mind. She would miss everyone in the Inquisition to some degree — even Solas — but she would surely miss him the most if she were to die like this. She almost wishes she could apologize, but she knows that she can't. Not out here in the woods alone, with scrolls she prays are even worth all the trouble. Who will tell him? Who will find her out here and bring word that she has gone? Leliana's scouts, maybe? She lulls her head back, staring over at the adjacent window.
Her eyes start to close, her torrid of thoughts slowly beginning to ebb. Just as she sees the feet of a familiar Hart tread through the trees nearby. She squints. Surely she is hallucinating, just as she did the voice, but she's not. She can't be, when she sees the creature draw a little closer and when she hears her name called again. ]
Luthien. [ She manages, knowing full well he can't hear her. Despite the pains that had her sitting still before, she starts to crawl for the window, a hand gently pressed to the glass to leave a streak of red in its wake. She's here. Stop yelling. ]
[ His hart descends a hill, and he's left with the decision to continue forward or to go around the other side of it. The small cottage catches his attention, and though he may overlook it normally, the red glinting on the window pushes him forward. Blood. It looks fresh. Luthien dismounts his hart, running quickly to the door and shoulders it open.
When he spots Lior on the ground, his heart skips a beat and leaps into his throat. He moves forward, sinking to his knees beside her. Shaking hands hover over her, unsure whether it is okay to touch. Magic seeps out of his fingers as he so gently touches her face. It is times like this he berates himself for not learning more healing spells. ]
Can you hear me, ma vhenan?
[ His free hand fumbles for his travel pouch and the potion still inside. It's still there, by small mercies. Sparing only a brief moment, he uncorked the bottle so he can press it to Lior's lips. ]
[ There's a part of her — a very very very small part of her that doesn't want him to notice the bloodstain; doesn't want him to come into this cottage and see the blood spilled on the floor and the poor state she's in. The more prominent part of her however is overjoyed that he's here, that he will save her and bring her back to Skyhold. Or, at the very least, he'll make sure she doesn't die alone. She's used almost all of her own mana to sustain herself to this point.
What he offers her, however, is welcome. A reassuring warmth on her skin and in her aching bones. Instinctively, she curls into him, nodding. ]
I can hear you. [ She whispers, head tilting back to accept the potion as it's pressed to her lips. She swallows it as if she hasn't had anything to drink in years, letting a few drops of the liquid seep from her lips and down her chin. Fingers clutch at the front of his clothes. ] I am sorry.
[ She won't be dying anytime soon if he has anything to say about it. Even if Luthien has to exert all of his mana to do it. Lior is more than worth it and everyone would be devastated without her. He props her against himself, wrapping his arms as tenderly as he can around her middle. Magic continues to pour from his hands into her. It falters occasionally as his attention flickers back to her, but he has to remain strong. ]
As long as you are okay... Why didn't you ask anyone to come with you?
[ If she dies, he is going to be horribly cross with her!! Not that he will allow that to happen. Anyone would have accompanied her at the drop of a hat. Fenedhis, he would have come with her despite what he had been working on. What if he hadn't gone looking for her? Would she have died out here alone? It pains him to think about. ]
[ She chooses not to answer for now, relishing instead in the soothing flow of magic between them, in the heat he provides to a body she had not realized was cold. After a moment or two, she reaches up to curl her fingers around his — silently insist that he stop. She will live, and she would not dare ask him to give all of his energy to her when they will still have to travel back to Skyhold. ]
I did not want to trouble anyone. I thought it would be simple.
[ She apparently thought wrong. Lioriley closes her eyes, grips him just a little tighter. ] I want to go home.
[ He worries, even as his magic heals her more grievous injuries, because of course he does. Her hand wraps around his, and he knows why. Luthien elects to ignore it. Just a little bit more and he'll be satisfied. He won't push himself, but he has to be sure that she will make the journey without exacerbating anything. They will both be fine, but he needs to make sure.
It's a mistake he's made as well, thinking he was prepared for something and turned out to be horribly wrong. Getting his arm under her knees, the other one steadies her back as he stands with her in his arms. He's grateful he's strong enough for that, but if this had been a few months prior, he may not have been.
Once they're out of the cabin, he whistles for his hart which didn't stray too far. It's a little more difficult to get Lior onto the hart, but he manages somehow, jumping up to sit behind her. His arms wrap around her to grab the reins, steadying her. His lips brush the spot behind her ear as his fingers tighten on the reins to gear his mount into motion. ]
We will be there soon, just stay awake for me, vhenan.
[ She lacks the energy to truly stop him, and there's no denying how good the healing magic feels in her aching bones. Lioriley is sure to do whatever she can to lesson the burden of moving her around — which, unfortunately, isn't a whole hell of a lot, given that she can barely move without pain even with all the energy she has been given. The wounds have closed though, will heal eventually and scar with time.
When she's on the hart, she leans back into him. Awake is not a state she wishes to be in currently, but she wills her eyes to stay open. ]
Have I apologized for all of this yet? [ multiple times. ] I do not think this is a debt I can ever repay.
Hush. You don't need to apologize. You'd do the same if our positions were reversed. Or for any one of our friends without a thought.
[ Of course, that doesn't mean there wouldn't be an apology. That's just who the two of them are: insufferably polite and worried by nature. As they move toward Skyhold, Luthien keeps an arm wrapped around her, afraid that if he lets go, she may very well disappear on him. His heart still beats wildly behind his ribcage, the adrenaline refusing to disperse until he knew Lior was on her way to recovery. ]
Most of our friends are not stupid enough to venture out into dangerous ruins alone, however. [ Most of them. She's not ruling out everyone, because she's sure as hell not the most reckless person in the Inquisition. Still, she doesn't really argue further — just mutters one more apology and eases into him again.
A hand moves to rest over his, squeezing his fingers gently in a gesture meant to be reassuring. She's not going anywhere. Hell, he might have a hard time unlatching her from him for a while, honestly. Her head starts to droop though, as they near closer to the gates, her eyes fluttering. She wants to sleep. ]
[ It's clear that he is wearing himself thin, there's no hiding that. For all that he smiles, for all that he travels with the people he knows and speaks kindly of them, for all that he pushes himself to make sure those that he cares for are cherished and loved... He is not taking care of himself. Leilani can see it, and she's sure some of his other friends are witnessing it as well, but she isn't entirely sure how best to go about helping him, in the end. There is only so much she can do, and she is no member of the inner circle; she is no soft, kindly person that can drag him away from his work...
Or is she?
The issue is that she's not entirely sure she can drag him away without him trying to find a way to wiggle back to work, and that's when she decides it's best for her to take over. When he's stepped out of the war room and away from Madame Montilyet's office she accosts him, grabbing his arm and tugging him to one side, closer to the doorway to his bedchambers than anything else. Her eyes light up, gentle and soft, and she grins, leaning close. ]
Luthien, you have to come with me. It's important. [ Low, whispered soft like sharing a secret, and her fingers reach down to lace with his as she tugs. She slips through the doorway to the stairs, pausing only to shut it behind her before she's grinning, nudging him against the frame and tilting her head up. She'd prefer to tug him all the way up to his room, but she doesn't think she'd be able to get him that far without him questioning both her motives and the meaning behind it all, so she pauses here, for now. ]
I would like to ask a favour of you, if you don't mind. Something for only us to hear, something for us in private. What do you say?
Edited 2018-02-17 21:42 (UTC)
When in doubt, just write Dorian pissed at the state of the Inquisition's "library"
[ Donations from all over Thedas, the Revered Mother, in her apparently infinite wisdom and unrivaled authority, had claimed. Clearly, the woman hadn't traveled farther than Orlais if she thought the paltry sample of trite propaganda the "benevolent faithful" had sent to Skyhold was even a fraction of the literature necessary fulfill their needs. His requests for more specific works, those related to history, the conquest of Arlathan specifically, had fallen on deaf ears, but he would not burden Luthien with the issue. The man had enough on his plate with establishing his place, that of a Dalish elf no less, as the "Herald of Andraste" to worry himself with the trivialities of maintaining his library. Maker knew the man took too much on himself to begin with, and with the rumors already flying loosely from the lips of anyone who'd ever seen the two of them speaking...it was best he not ask the elf for anything.
He placed yet another worthless tome atop the quickly growing stack near his chair and pulled a piece of parchment and a quill to take some notes. Perhaps a tersely worded letter to their charming ambassador would get something done... ]
[ Becoming the Inquisitor was rather overwhelming, but it also gave him a sense of peace. Of course he was still skeptical about even being the Herald of Andraste, because it went against his own belief system, though he tried to keep an open mind on the matter. Life had already proven on more than one occasion that strange occurrences tended to surround him. The bigger decisions still made him hesitant, but he had to be strong- at the very least on the exterior.
One of his favorite things, however, was checking up on his inner circle. Luthien would do anything they asked of him if it was within his power. He can't entirely help his bias toward one of them, however. Everything about Dorian was theatrical and brazen, even from the beginning when they went into the future that wasn't meant to happen. Dorian had a style all his own, but beyond that was someone who endured hardships and was stronger for it. He was enjoying getting to know Dorian, butterflies and all.
He'd been so busy since the moment he woke up, that Luthien had barely gotten to breathe. His meeting with Cullen, Josephine, and Leliana had lasted most of the morning as they discussed their upcoming strategies. Luthien's mind was still reeling as he made his escape across the castle's entryway and through the door that led to the library. As he got to the top of the stairs, Dorian was in his line of sight, near the alcove that he had claimed as his own, though the newest addition were the stacks of books. ]
I hope I haven't interrupted plans to entomb yourself with books.
[ How in the Maker's name did this man always end up precisely where he was thought of last? It was uncanny! And yet, as the days had progressed, Dorian had come to look forward to their stolen meetings. It made this cold fortress of chilled breezes and stone feel a little less lonely, and that he welcomed more than life itself at this point.
His candor, also, was welcome. He'd never had occasion to meet so many elves, and a Dalish no less, but they were all proving to be lovely in their own ways. What had Sera said? "People are people"? Yes, quite.
He chuckled as the man approached, but didn't turn, moving instead back to the shelf he'd been "liberating" of trite propaganda all morning. ]
Quite the opposite. I'm simply organizing your library in terms of what should be read, and what should be re-purposed as furniture.
[ He pulled a tome from a higher shelf and turned then, holding the book in question. ] Malificar of the North: a study by Sister Rhiani, for instance. [ And he tossed the tome causally atop a stack of others. ] "All mages of the north are evil and poised atop a swaying dais, ready to fall into the lap of whatever demon holds their sway at the moment". In this instance, "mages from the north" are those from Tevinter, of course. This woman's never gone farther north than Orlais. I can assure you. How is your morning?
[ The longer he spends in Skyhold, the more accustomed he is to making his treks to the various places his people tend to linger. There's a certain warmth that comes with winding up those stairs and coming into the library. ]
I had no idea that the library had so many books of that nature. I'll speak to Ambassador Montilyet about acquiring a wider range. [ It's akin to hearing that the library is filled with books on how the Dalish are nothing more than tricksters, or turn into dragons if spurned. Rumors like that could be dangerous. The mages in the Inquisition suffered enough scrutiny for their gifts- Dorian especially, because of the reputation Tevinter had.. But Dorian wasn't Tevinter. He was a man apart from that, and he wished others would see that, too.
Luthien steps around the piles of books, settling next to the window in Dorian's alcove with his arms crossed comfortably in front of him. ]
Quite long, but it's getting better by the moment.
Don't. I can handle the library. I'm certain you have at least fifteen other things that should be seen to before the propaganda upon your bookshelves.
[ And anything he may request in regards to the library in such a fashion may be seen as "pro-Tevinter" which would work against the already pagan's standing with his people. Dorian already effected his reputation enough. He wouldn't be responsible for more tarnish. He motioned toward the small table atop which he'd been taking notes. ]
I'm already working on a letter to that effect, in fact. [ He laughs lightly at Luthien's flirting. My if he didn't always enjoy their playfulness. It was something like an oasis, refreshment where elsewhere there was only devastation. ] Naturally, as you always find your way to my side. What will people say?
If it's something important, I don't mind. [ Keeping busy helps, and if he can do something that will better not only the Inquisition, but the quality of life for its members, it's something he wants. The whispers of ignorance toward his own heritage happen, though he brushes them off as best as he can. Luthien knows that elves are seen as lesser, so it's difficult to rise above that with his title as Herald. Most people don't believe at first. That's not what's important. His people in the Inquisition have shown him respect as an equal, so it's more than enough for him.
He didn't used to flirt, but it's hard not to with Dorian. Especially since he started it first. Heck, he might even be getting better at it with all this practice. Creators know he was terrible at it, before. ]
People talk, they do little else. Honestly, they can say what they like so long as that is all that it remains.
[ It sounded like so simple a thing when Luthien said it: let them talk, it doesn't matter. But it did matter. The Inquisition was seen as an authority, a stabilizing force in a world gone mad. Luthien couldn't afford to divide his people, not when so much was at stake...
...and yet, it was a delight, having that concerned gaze turned upon him, to know that someone, anyone at all, stood with him, that for once, he didn't stand alone. Pariah-hood was delightful in thought, and in occasional practice, but loneliness? No. That...was something else entirely. ]
You should be more careful with that, you know. The opinion of the people is often what's been opening doors for us.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
neveragainsubmit) wrote2017-05-28 09:58 pm
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Logically, she knew that venturing out into the wilds of Thedas alone was a terrible idea. She had experienced the beasts - and humans - that lurked there first hand over the years. And she herself was not an apt fighter by any means. Sure, she could defend herself, ward away creatures with her magic, and she was quick on her feet which made escaping all the easier. But she still shouldn't have gone out alone.
But she felt she needed to. No time to round of a group or even inform the Inquisitor (her biggest mistake by far) before she headed out. It was a simple quest, too — infiltrate an abandoned (ha) ruin, retrieve the ancient scrolls within, and get out. Simple, it would have been, were it not for the Templars that had laid claim to the land first.
For what it was worth, she did get the scrolls. But she also got a sword to the side, deep enough to leave a trail of blood behind her. A gash on her arm, a limp in her leg, and a few broken ribs from when one of the men had thrown her haphazardly into a wall. How she got away was nothing short of a miracle and quick thinking on her end — a few well placed walls of ice, a pit trap that she didn't even know laid within the walls of the ruins. And speed — thank god for her speed, or she would have died right then and there.
Now she sits, alone and woozy from bloodloss, in an abandoned cabin a decent way away from the ruins. The scrolls she obtained are doused in blood, but safe in one of her satchels as she tries desperately to heal herself. Mana is low. Lyrium nonexistent here. If this is how she dies, she hopes these scrolls are worth it and will be found in the hands of someone that could use them for good.
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Worry sinks like a heavy stone into the pit of his stomach and it spurs him into action. Running through the courtyard, he yells for Dennet to ready his steed. There's not much time to run back to his quarters, but he needs to grab his staff, at least. It wouldn't do her any good if she were in trouble. His small travelling bag still has a potion and a few tonics. It will have to do. By the time he's out the castle and down the steps, Dennet is waiting with his hart. He's never been more glad for recruiting that man into the Inquisition.
Luthien kicks his heels, spurring the hart past the gates and into the wilderness. He has nothing more to go on than the direction the scout had seen her heading. It's enough. By foot, it would have taken here quite some time, so maybe he will be able to head her off before she gets into any real danger. ]
LIORILEY!
[ The noise undoubtedly calls some unsavory attention to himself, but the desire to find her outweighs his own safety. He doesn't know her exact direction, but there are enough signs for him to follow that he prays are hers. Luthien is not a man of belief, but Andraste pops into his head more often than his own gods. He doesn't know what he will do if she is harmed. ]
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Thoughts of Luthien suddenly flit into her mind. She would miss everyone in the Inquisition to some degree — even Solas — but she would surely miss him the most if she were to die like this. She almost wishes she could apologize, but she knows that she can't. Not out here in the woods alone, with scrolls she prays are even worth all the trouble. Who will tell him? Who will find her out here and bring word that she has gone? Leliana's scouts, maybe? She lulls her head back, staring over at the adjacent window.
Her eyes start to close, her torrid of thoughts slowly beginning to ebb. Just as she sees the feet of a familiar Hart tread through the trees nearby. She squints. Surely she is hallucinating, just as she did the voice, but she's not. She can't be, when she sees the creature draw a little closer and when she hears her name called again. ]
Luthien. [ She manages, knowing full well he can't hear her. Despite the pains that had her sitting still before, she starts to crawl for the window, a hand gently pressed to the glass to leave a streak of red in its wake. She's here. Stop yelling. ]
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When he spots Lior on the ground, his heart skips a beat and leaps into his throat. He moves forward, sinking to his knees beside her. Shaking hands hover over her, unsure whether it is okay to touch. Magic seeps out of his fingers as he so gently touches her face. It is times like this he berates himself for not learning more healing spells. ]
Can you hear me, ma vhenan?
[ His free hand fumbles for his travel pouch and the potion still inside. It's still there, by small mercies. Sparing only a brief moment, he uncorked the bottle so he can press it to Lior's lips. ]
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What he offers her, however, is welcome. A reassuring warmth on her skin and in her aching bones. Instinctively, she curls into him, nodding. ]
I can hear you. [ She whispers, head tilting back to accept the potion as it's pressed to her lips. She swallows it as if she hasn't had anything to drink in years, letting a few drops of the liquid seep from her lips and down her chin. Fingers clutch at the front of his clothes. ] I am sorry.
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As long as you are okay... Why didn't you ask anyone to come with you?
[ If she dies, he is going to be horribly cross with her!! Not that he will allow that to happen. Anyone would have accompanied her at the drop of a hat. Fenedhis, he would have come with her despite what he had been working on. What if he hadn't gone looking for her? Would she have died out here alone? It pains him to think about. ]
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I did not want to trouble anyone. I thought it would be simple.
[ She apparently thought wrong. Lioriley closes her eyes, grips him just a little tighter. ] I want to go home.
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It's a mistake he's made as well, thinking he was prepared for something and turned out to be horribly wrong. Getting his arm under her knees, the other one steadies her back as he stands with her in his arms. He's grateful he's strong enough for that, but if this had been a few months prior, he may not have been.
Once they're out of the cabin, he whistles for his hart which didn't stray too far. It's a little more difficult to get Lior onto the hart, but he manages somehow, jumping up to sit behind her. His arms wrap around her to grab the reins, steadying her. His lips brush the spot behind her ear as his fingers tighten on the reins to gear his mount into motion. ]
We will be there soon, just stay awake for me, vhenan.
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When she's on the hart, she leans back into him. Awake is not a state she wishes to be in currently, but she wills her eyes to stay open. ]
Have I apologized for all of this yet? [ multiple times. ] I do not think this is a debt I can ever repay.
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[ Of course, that doesn't mean there wouldn't be an apology. That's just who the two of them are: insufferably polite and worried by nature. As they move toward Skyhold, Luthien keeps an arm wrapped around her, afraid that if he lets go, she may very well disappear on him. His heart still beats wildly behind his ribcage, the adrenaline refusing to disperse until he knew Lior was on her way to recovery. ]
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A hand moves to rest over his, squeezing his fingers gently in a gesture meant to be reassuring. She's not going anywhere. Hell, he might have a hard time unlatching her from him for a while, honestly. Her head starts to droop though, as they near closer to the gates, her eyes fluttering. She wants to sleep. ]
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Or is she?
The issue is that she's not entirely sure she can drag him away without him trying to find a way to wiggle back to work, and that's when she decides it's best for her to take over. When he's stepped out of the war room and away from Madame Montilyet's office she accosts him, grabbing his arm and tugging him to one side, closer to the doorway to his bedchambers than anything else. Her eyes light up, gentle and soft, and she grins, leaning close. ]
Luthien, you have to come with me. It's important. [ Low, whispered soft like sharing a secret, and her fingers reach down to lace with his as she tugs. She slips through the doorway to the stairs, pausing only to shut it behind her before she's grinning, nudging him against the frame and tilting her head up. She'd prefer to tug him all the way up to his room, but she doesn't think she'd be able to get him that far without him questioning both her motives and the meaning behind it all, so she pauses here, for now. ]
I would like to ask a favour of you, if you don't mind. Something for only us to hear, something for us in private. What do you say?
When in doubt, just write Dorian pissed at the state of the Inquisition's "library"
He placed yet another worthless tome atop the quickly growing stack near his chair and pulled a piece of parchment and a quill to take some notes. Perhaps a tersely worded letter to their charming ambassador would get something done... ]
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One of his favorite things, however, was checking up on his inner circle. Luthien would do anything they asked of him if it was within his power. He can't entirely help his bias toward one of them, however. Everything about Dorian was theatrical and brazen, even from the beginning when they went into the future that wasn't meant to happen. Dorian had a style all his own, but beyond that was someone who endured hardships and was stronger for it. He was enjoying getting to know Dorian, butterflies and all.
He'd been so busy since the moment he woke up, that Luthien had barely gotten to breathe. His meeting with Cullen, Josephine, and Leliana had lasted most of the morning as they discussed their upcoming strategies. Luthien's mind was still reeling as he made his escape across the castle's entryway and through the door that led to the library. As he got to the top of the stairs, Dorian was in his line of sight, near the alcove that he had claimed as his own, though the newest addition were the stacks of books. ]
I hope I haven't interrupted plans to entomb yourself with books.
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His candor, also, was welcome. He'd never had occasion to meet so many elves, and a Dalish no less, but they were all proving to be lovely in their own ways. What had Sera said? "People are people"? Yes, quite.
He chuckled as the man approached, but didn't turn, moving instead back to the shelf he'd been "liberating" of trite propaganda all morning. ]
Quite the opposite. I'm simply organizing your library in terms of what should be read, and what should be re-purposed as furniture.
[ He pulled a tome from a higher shelf and turned then, holding the book in question. ] Malificar of the North: a study by Sister Rhiani, for instance. [ And he tossed the tome causally atop a stack of others. ] "All mages of the north are evil and poised atop a swaying dais, ready to fall into the lap of whatever demon holds their sway at the moment". In this instance, "mages from the north" are those from Tevinter, of course. This woman's never gone farther north than Orlais. I can assure you. How is your morning?
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I had no idea that the library had so many books of that nature. I'll speak to Ambassador Montilyet about acquiring a wider range. [ It's akin to hearing that the library is filled with books on how the Dalish are nothing more than tricksters, or turn into dragons if spurned. Rumors like that could be dangerous. The mages in the Inquisition suffered enough scrutiny for their gifts- Dorian especially, because of the reputation Tevinter had.. But Dorian wasn't Tevinter. He was a man apart from that, and he wished others would see that, too.
Luthien steps around the piles of books, settling next to the window in Dorian's alcove with his arms crossed comfortably in front of him. ]
Quite long, but it's getting better by the moment.
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[ And anything he may request in regards to the library in such a fashion may be seen as "pro-Tevinter" which would work against the already pagan's standing with his people. Dorian already effected his reputation enough. He wouldn't be responsible for more tarnish. He motioned toward the small table atop which he'd been taking notes. ]
I'm already working on a letter to that effect, in fact. [ He laughs lightly at Luthien's flirting. My if he didn't always enjoy their playfulness. It was something like an oasis, refreshment where elsewhere there was only devastation. ] Naturally, as you always find your way to my side. What will people say?
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He didn't used to flirt, but it's hard not to with Dorian. Especially since he started it first. Heck, he might even be getting better at it with all this practice. Creators know he was terrible at it, before. ]
People talk, they do little else. Honestly, they can say what they like so long as that is all that it remains.
no subject
...and yet, it was a delight, having that concerned gaze turned upon him, to know that someone, anyone at all, stood with him, that for once, he didn't stand alone. Pariah-hood was delightful in thought, and in occasional practice, but loneliness? No. That...was something else entirely. ]
You should be more careful with that, you know. The opinion of the people is often what's been opening doors for us.