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[neveragainsubmit]

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[prosey]

She shouldn't have gone alone.

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.

[veilstrike]

[ 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?

When in doubt, just write Dorian pissed at the state of the Inquisition's "library"

[tevinteraltus]

[ 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... ]