Nuvenan ma son. Please forgive me for my silence over these past few months, I've had much on my mind and little to do about it. I fear I've been neglecting you in the meantime. I'm very much looking forward to meeting you again, and uniting our clans. It will, in truth, be the first time I've seen most of mine in over a year, and I can think of no circumstances under which I'd be happier to see them.
I have spoken some to Beleth on the subject of the ceremony, and I admit I know very little about the traditions of Clan Ashara. Is there anything in particular I should know, including personal preferences? My one aim is to please you and, of course, your Keeper.
The little bag I've attached contains seeds for royal elfroot. It's so scarce in the wilds, I thought the healers of your clan might appreciate a more potent reagent. Plant a little in a rocky area by a water source, if the ground isn't too hard. It will manifest much like the elfroot we all know, but is of a brighter color and heartier growth. If you can keep it protected from marauding grazers, it will last well into the autumn, and blossom again when the winter ends.
Tuelanen i'na, and it's so good to have heard from you. My letters with Beleth are more regular, or I'd have worried for your silence. But there is no reason to worry for mine; I hope you will find me as patient a friend as you can imagine, rather than a source of trouble in your thoughts. Even so, I am grateful for your letter, as the appointed time is swiftly approaching.
If that seems too formal, my apologies. I'm still new to all this. I keep hoping to impress you, somehow, silly as that seems.
The Keeper is a traditionalist, in the old ways, as we know them, but even the formidable Deheune Ashara knows compromises must be made to accommodate the traditions of both clans. This year, there are unlikely to be any other hopeful pairs joining us, from Ashara at least, so for better worse we'll be the center of attention. We have a ceremonial tradition involving tying the to-be-bondeds together by the hand, so they can leap a fire together, but so long as the Keepers say a blessing over the union (and there's a celebration feast) I doubt there will be any objection from Keeper or Clan.
On the second count, have no fear: hunting has been good this winter, better than we had any right to hope for. Maybe the Rifts changing the habits of wandering creatures? It'd be nice if they had a good effect somewhere, for once.
Dar'eth Shiral, always,
Sorrelean, Ashara as'var sael
[There is a hastily written post-script, clearly put on when he had realized it was forgotten: the handwriting is messier, and in one spot, the ink has blotted slightly.]
Thank you for the royal elfroot seeds! I know a place where they will grow well, if I'm lucky. I love gardening too.
I am reassured by your forgiveness, and will never take it for granted. I'm also glad that Beleth has kept you somewhat informed, though I would be remiss to not make more of an effort to stay in contact. I highly doubt Keeper Thalia will have any objection, seeing as it was half her idea in the first place, and I hear our clan has had a rough winter. My heart breaks that I can't be there with them, but my hope is that Clans Dahlasanor and Ashara will assist each other far beyond what one absent First could provide. I miss them so terribly, I imagine just as you miss Beleth and the others who are here.
I'm so glad to hear that you enjoy gardening! I wish you could see the garden here. Although it's still too cold, I spent the late summer and fall planting a hanging vine called wisteria all around the gazebo (a sort of open structure, like a tent with no canvas), and when spring arrives the whole place will flower a bright purple. I think the shem'len will enjoy it, and for once I have to admit that doesn't bother me. I never had much opportunity to experiment with our clan on the move so often, so it has been a special kind of treat to learn and work with so many different kinds of Thedosian flora.
Do you have a particular location for planting, or are there simply spots around the forest that you use and hope no one disturbs them?
[ It's obvious, if you know what to look for, when Beleth is silently seething. There's a tension in her face, her speech and movements stilted as she has to remember how to react in a properly calm way.
She waits until it's just the two of them and the dragon to close the door firmly, that anger simmering under her skin finally bubbling to the surface. ]
Bloodthirsty wood-elf. Bloodthirsty wood-elf! We have merchants cancelling contracts and allies writing to us in earnest concern because the Inquisition has a damned bloodthirsty wood-elf leading the scouts, and demons leading everyone else!
[ She's pacing the room now, voice low but unmistakably incensed. ]
I'm so tired of it, Sorrel. It's not fair. Nothing is fair, it's never fair, but--Argh! [ She stomps her foot like a mature adult. ] I worked for this! I've studied under Leliana for a year, and Zevran a year before that, I've been working for the Inquisition since it moved to Skyhold. I've trained as a bard--I played in the Winter Palace! The Winter Palace, Sorrel! The one with the Empress of Orlais in it!
[ Not that she was listening to Beleth, but. She could have. She didn't, but she could have. ]
But it's never enough for them. They still think I'm liable to go savage and slit their throat in the night, and if I weren't such a nice person, I'd prove them right. [ She flops dramatically onto the bed. ] It's just--It's not fair.
To be completely truthful, you are a bloodthirsty wood-elf.
[Is this the time for that joke? No? Too late, he already said it. Perhaps the way he can reach over and comfortingly stroke her hair from where he's been sitting will help.]
I'd say that's a benefit for a scout-master, personally. But then I'm Dalish, what do I know? I probably can't even read, or wear shoes, or know what the indoors is. [These are all things that have, indeed, been up for more or less consideration in his dealings with shemlen lo these past weeks.] Fair died with their sainted Andraste, sa'asha. Only one thing to do about it.
[ She lets him know she's in no mood by emitting a high pitched whine, swatting in his general direction. ]
Being feared is all well and good, but I need to be respected, too. Like the Nightingale. People are afraid of her, but they respect her. They certainly don't cut ties with the Inquisition because of her.
[ She sighs, rolling slightly to look at Sorrel. ]
[Written a clear and fancy hand - oh hey look at that another elf with an education! - it is folded into a small swan.]
Hey Handsome,
I heard your wife wasn't doing well, and I wanted to know if there was anything I could do for the two of you. I can get my hands on pretty much anything in Kirkwall, so let me know. Price is never an object.
[Sorrel's handwriting is slightly loopy and full of overlong tails, but readable and consistent.]
Adasse
If price is never an object then how about a gold silk cloak and a giant bag of candied nuts for good measure. I had no idea you were secretly a prince.
[ One day, innocuously, as they’re hanging out in her room, Beleth turns to Sorrel, like a thought just occurred to her, like she hadn’t been thinking and overthinking this for ages. ]
Have you ever actually met Twisted Fate? You should, if you haven’t.
And I don’t know, honestly. His real name is Tobrevas, which is a perfectly respectable Dalish name. But—don’t tell him I told you. Whatever the reason, I try not to go around telling other people. [ But this is Sorrel, whom she tells everything. ]
I wonder if he just doesn’t owe a bunch of money to someone and thought changing his name would get him out of it.
Your sister and I have wed and I'd been told to seek you for a dowry.
[ which, despite how flatly it's delivered, is clearly a joke because 1: Iorveth could not give a single fuck about money and 2: what the fuck even? Hi, Sorrel, how you livin'? ]
I'm very proud of you for being willing to stand up and admit you know fuck-all about Dalish dowries, Iorveth. Most people like to lie and pretend they know everything, but not you.
You're humble.
[He laughs.]
So, how in the Beyond did that happen? Who'd marry you anyways?
You mistake me, my friend. I stand up to admit I know fuck-all about dowries period. I think it involves some scale of wife worth to chickens?
[ first of all, not an Aen Seidhe practice. Second of all, Sorrel's right, no one is batshit enough to even attempt to marry him, this surprises no one. ]
A mission, in Ostwick. There was a killer targeting newly weds, so bait was to be acquired.
[He clears his throat. He has to, because-- because Adasse in the bath. Sorrel quietly promises himself that his voice will not crack.]
Since it's a great need. I can agree to that. Would you, ah-- Like to meet me there? [There is a pause.] In the baths. I mean.
[However awkward this must sound, no one could possibly be more annoyed by his own lack of suave than Sorrel. He's certainly seen Adasse naked before! But even so, it doesn't seem to be getting less exciting; this may continue for some time yet.]
[His tone could, in fact, be much meaner than this. Sorrel doesn't just dislike Norrington for his race, after all; there's his occupation to be considered, as well. Sharp and disinterested is likely as polite as Sorel is capable of managing, under the circumstances.]
[Sorrel sounds...very tired. There is a pause, before he speaks again, where Sorrel is writing, or wandering, or just trying to collect his thoughts. It doesn't do much to put aside the idea of weariness.]
I found the....the thing. Some old Tevinter blood magic thing. It's all smashed now, but I had to make a report. I don't know if... [He trails off, worried, in-turned, tired tired tired.] I'm in the office, please, please come find me?
[Beleth would need to know what had happened here. Someone he could trust to make decisions, plans, orders... But it's all too much, right now. He just wants to curl up with Adasse and forget the world for a few hours.]
[ Left on his desk, at some point, in a cramped but legible hand: ]
One of the spirits remembered that once the courtyard was full of bodies. Alive, because they spoke and moved, and that is the difference between alive and dead. There wasn’t any ivy on the paths. The sky was bright. Someone began to cry on the path. He said he knew what was right, but he wasn’t ready to say it. He slept there and left. A girl drowned. No one could judge the water. A guardian asked if Mythal would be pleased that they murdered trespassers who did not know where they were. The spirit said, “You must be willing to die for the same things you are willing to kill for,” but probably in fucking elvhen or something. A lost wolf stole meat from the guardians. They caught it and didn’t kill it. They taught it to hunt for them. Was it mercy if they gained more than they gave? Justice, for the wolf to repay them? It was not very long ago.
The moss was dark, tinted blue in places, and thickest on the north-facing walls.
OFT I MUST STRIVE WITH WIND AND WAVE, BATTLE THEM BOTH WHEN UNDER THE SEA I FEEL OUT THE BOTTOM, A FOREIGN LAND. IN LYING STILL I AM STRONG IN THE STRIFE; IF I FAIL IN THAT THEY ARE STRONGER THAN I, AND WRENCHING ME LOOSE, SOON PUT ME TO ROUT. THEY WISH TO CAPTURE WHAT I MUST KEEP. I CAN MASTER THEM BOTH IF MY GRIP HOLDS OUT, IF THE ROCKS BRING SUCCOR AND LEND SUPPORT, STRENGTH IN THE STRUGGLE. ASK ME MY NAME!
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Nuvenan ma son. Please forgive me for my silence over these past few months, I've had much on my mind and little to do about it. I fear I've been neglecting you in the meantime.
I'm very much looking forward to meeting you again, and uniting our clans. It will, in truth, be the first time I've seen most of mine in over a year, and I can think of no circumstances under which I'd be happier to see them.
I have spoken some to Beleth on the subject of the ceremony, and I admit I know very little about the traditions of Clan Ashara. Is there anything in particular I should know, including personal preferences? My one aim is to please you and, of course, your Keeper.
The little bag I've attached contains seeds for royal elfroot. It's so scarce in the wilds, I thought the healers of your clan might appreciate a more potent reagent. Plant a little in a rocky area by a water source, if the ground isn't too hard. It will manifest much like the elfroot we all know, but is of a brighter color and heartier growth. If you can keep it protected from marauding grazers, it will last well into the autumn, and blossom again when the winter ends.
Tuelanen ama na,
Siuona, Dahlasanor as'var sael
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Tuelanen i'na, and it's so good to have heard from you. My letters with Beleth are more regular, or I'd have worried for your silence. But there is no reason to worry for mine; I hope you will find me as patient a friend as you can imagine, rather than a source of trouble in your thoughts. Even so, I am grateful for your letter, as the appointed time is swiftly approaching.
If that seems too formal, my apologies. I'm still new to all this. I keep hoping to impress you, somehow, silly as that seems.
The Keeper is a traditionalist, in the old ways, as we know them, but even the formidable Deheune Ashara knows compromises must be made to accommodate the traditions of both clans. This year, there are unlikely to be any other hopeful pairs joining us, from Ashara at least, so for better worse we'll be the center of attention. We have a ceremonial tradition involving tying the to-be-bondeds together by the hand, so they can leap a fire together, but so long as the Keepers say a blessing over the union (and there's a celebration feast) I doubt there will be any objection from Keeper or Clan.
On the second count, have no fear: hunting has been good this winter, better than we had any right to hope for. Maybe the Rifts changing the habits of wandering creatures? It'd be nice if they had a good effect somewhere, for once.
Dar'eth Shiral, always,
Sorrelean, Ashara as'var sael
[There is a hastily written post-script, clearly put on when he had realized it was forgotten: the handwriting is messier, and in one spot, the ink has blotted slightly.]
Thank you for the royal elfroot seeds! I know a place where they will grow well, if I'm lucky. I love gardening too.
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I am reassured by your forgiveness, and will never take it for granted. I'm also glad that Beleth has kept you somewhat informed, though I would be remiss to not make more of an effort to stay in contact.
I highly doubt Keeper Thalia will have any objection, seeing as it was half her idea in the first place, and I hear our clan has had a rough winter. My heart breaks that I can't be there with them, but my hope is that Clans Dahlasanor and Ashara will assist each other far beyond what one absent First could provide. I miss them so terribly, I imagine just as you miss Beleth and the others who are here.
I'm so glad to hear that you enjoy gardening! I wish you could see the garden here. Although it's still too cold, I spent the late summer and fall planting a hanging vine called wisteria all around the gazebo (a sort of open structure, like a tent with no canvas), and when spring arrives the whole place will flower a bright purple. I think the shem'len will enjoy it, and for once I have to admit that doesn't bother me.
I never had much opportunity to experiment with our clan on the move so often, so it has been a special kind of treat to learn and work with so many different kinds of Thedosian flora.
Do you have a particular location for planting, or are there simply spots around the forest that you use and hope no one disturbs them?
Dar'eth Shiral,
Siuona
(you can call me Sina)
IN THEIR ROOM
She waits until it's just the two of them and the dragon to close the door firmly, that anger simmering under her skin finally bubbling to the surface. ]
Bloodthirsty wood-elf. Bloodthirsty wood-elf! We have merchants cancelling contracts and allies writing to us in earnest concern because the Inquisition has a damned bloodthirsty wood-elf leading the scouts, and demons leading everyone else!
[ She's pacing the room now, voice low but unmistakably incensed. ]
I'm so tired of it, Sorrel. It's not fair. Nothing is fair, it's never fair, but--Argh! [ She stomps her foot like a mature adult. ] I worked for this! I've studied under Leliana for a year, and Zevran a year before that, I've been working for the Inquisition since it moved to Skyhold. I've trained as a bard--I played in the Winter Palace! The Winter Palace, Sorrel! The one with the Empress of Orlais in it!
[ Not that she was listening to Beleth, but. She could have. She didn't, but she could have. ]
But it's never enough for them. They still think I'm liable to go savage and slit their throat in the night, and if I weren't such a nice person, I'd prove them right. [ She flops dramatically onto the bed. ] It's just--It's not fair.
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[Is this the time for that joke? No? Too late, he already said it. Perhaps the way he can reach over and comfortingly stroke her hair from where he's been sitting will help.]
I'd say that's a benefit for a scout-master, personally. But then I'm Dalish, what do I know? I probably can't even read, or wear shoes, or know what the indoors is. [These are all things that have, indeed, been up for more or less consideration in his dealings with shemlen lo these past weeks.] Fair died with their sainted Andraste, sa'asha. Only one thing to do about it.
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Being feared is all well and good, but I need to be respected, too. Like the Nightingale. People are afraid of her, but they respect her. They certainly don't cut ties with the Inquisition because of her.
[ She sighs, rolling slightly to look at Sorrel. ]
Kill them all...?
[ So much for being irritated about the joke. ]
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Note stuck under the door
Hey Handsome,
I heard your wife wasn't doing well, and I wanted to know if there was anything I could do for the two of you. I can get my hands on pretty much anything in Kirkwall, so let me know. Price is never an object.
Sincerely,
Adasse A.
reply note
Adasse
If price is never an object then how about a gold silk cloak and a giant bag of candied nuts for good measure. I had no idea you were secretly a prince.
With gratitude,
Sorrelean Ashara
Reply in turn
Handsome,
Done. Just tell me the time and place to drop off the goods.
Sincerely,
Adasse A.
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Have you ever actually met Twisted Fate? You should, if you haven’t.
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[He says without looking. He knows you, Beleth.]
I haven't though. Why does he have a name like a fairy tale villain?
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And I don’t know, honestly. His real name is Tobrevas, which is a perfectly respectable Dalish name. But—don’t tell him I told you. Whatever the reason, I try not to go around telling other people. [ But this is Sorrel, whom she tells everything. ]
I wonder if he just doesn’t owe a bunch of money to someone and thought changing his name would get him out of it.
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[ which, despite how flatly it's delivered, is clearly a joke because 1: Iorveth could not give a single fuck about money and 2: what the fuck even? Hi, Sorrel, how you livin'? ]
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You're humble.
[He laughs.]
So, how in the Beyond did that happen? Who'd marry you anyways?
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[ first of all, not an Aen Seidhe practice. Second of all, Sorrel's right, no one is batshit enough to even attempt to marry him, this surprises no one. ]
A mission, in Ostwick. There was a killer targeting newly weds, so bait was to be acquired.
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Crystal
[Cheery and cheeky, all in one. That's your man right there, Sorrel.]
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[He clears his throat. He has to, because-- because Adasse in the bath. Sorrel quietly promises himself that his voice will not crack.]
Since it's a great need. I can agree to that. Would you, ah-- Like to meet me there? [There is a pause.] In the baths. I mean.
[However awkward this must sound, no one could possibly be more annoyed by his own lack of suave than Sorrel. He's certainly seen Adasse naked before! But even so, it doesn't seem to be getting less exciting; this may continue for some time yet.]
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I would like to meet you there -- in the baths.
[Quiet hum of approval.]
If you like, I'll even bring the fancy soaps and oils.
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Crystal
Serah Sorrel, may I have a moment of your time, please?
Crystal
[His tone could, in fact, be much meaner than this. Sorrel doesn't just dislike Norrington for his race, after all; there's his occupation to be considered, as well. Sharp and disinterested is likely as polite as Sorel is capable of managing, under the circumstances.]
I haven't much to spare these days, as you know.
Re: Crystal
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Crystal
[Breathless, worried, and jogging around the Gallows.]
You better answer me before I charge all over the place.
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[Sorrel sounds...very tired. There is a pause, before he speaks again, where Sorrel is writing, or wandering, or just trying to collect his thoughts. It doesn't do much to put aside the idea of weariness.]
I found the....the thing. Some old Tevinter blood magic thing. It's all smashed now, but I had to make a report. I don't know if... [He trails off, worried, in-turned, tired tired tired.] I'm in the office, please, please come find me?
[Beleth would need to know what had happened here. Someone he could trust to make decisions, plans, orders... But it's all too much, right now. He just wants to curl up with Adasse and forget the world for a few hours.]
It's all done, now. I'm finished.
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One of the spirits remembered that once the courtyard was full of bodies. Alive, because they spoke and moved, and that is the difference between alive and dead. There wasn’t any ivy on the paths. The sky was bright. Someone began to cry on the path. He said he knew what was right, but he wasn’t ready to say it. He slept there and left. A girl drowned. No one could judge the water. A guardian asked if Mythal would be pleased that they murdered trespassers who did not know where they were. The spirit said, “You must be willing to die for the same things you are willing to kill for,” but probably in fucking elvhen or something. A lost wolf stole meat from the guardians. They caught it and didn’t kill it. They taught it to hunt for them. Was it mercy if they gained more than they gave? Justice, for the wolf to repay them? It was not very long ago.
The moss was dark, tinted blue in places, and thickest on the north-facing walls.
is it in person or via crystal? you choose!
I FEEL OUT THE BOTTOM, A FOREIGN LAND. IN LYING STILL I AM STRONG IN THE STRIFE;
IF I FAIL IN THAT THEY ARE STRONGER THAN I, AND WRENCHING ME LOOSE, SOON PUT ME TO ROUT.
THEY WISH TO CAPTURE WHAT I MUST KEEP. I CAN MASTER THEM BOTH IF MY GRIP HOLDS OUT,
IF THE ROCKS BRING SUCCOR AND LEND SUPPORT, STRENGTH IN THE STRUGGLE.
ASK ME MY NAME!
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I...
[What does one say when one opens the door to the privy and finds this at their feet.]
...I, uh. I'm. [Why this? What this? Who this, come to think of it?] What?
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