stumbledfromtheashes: (Default)
Iona Lavellan ([personal profile] stumbledfromtheashes) wrote2017-05-06 04:48 pm
Entry tags:

Open RP








text | prose | action | AU | choose your own adventure
be_valorous: (potentially insincere potentially true)

Choose Your Own Timing

[personal profile] be_valorous 2017-09-08 11:51 am (UTC)(link)
The Inquisition's stronghold is not, Eldy reflects, a particularly easy place to get to. Its ambassador and merchant-partners must have been blessed by Andraste Herself to get so many caravans plodding along to the fortress, and she isn't complaining. Regular traffic means some designated rest areas on the way through the mountains, regular and expensive caravans mean the path has to be at least decently maintained. But it's still up in the mountains - way, way up - and Eldy hadn't made it easier on herself, she knows.

She'd had to go via Haven.

Partly, it's just because there's been no sense in reinventing the wheel, and the mountain-entry via the old Haven road on the Orlais side is easiest, safest, and Eldy has to keep her own caravan with its research and personnel safe. But she'd waved the main party to go on ahead, and with Zevran she'd turned down the fork in the road and headed towards the village and then the temple. The ruins of them.

She had to see.

So Eldy is late getting into Skyhold, too late for any formal greetings from the Inquisitor to the Newly Returned Warden-Commander of Ferelden and Hero of the Same. Which means by the same token, the very early morning is also too early for any formality. Leaving her husband in the (very) comfortable bed in the quarters assigned to her party, she finds her way to the beautiful central garden. There's a book in her hand, and purpose in her step. It would be rude to run all over the complex trying to study the magic she can feel in the very walls, the same magic which she presumes is the reason why it is warmer in Skyhold than its surrounds, warm enough to grow trees and grass and all the herbs and flowers she can - very rude. She can hear Zevran and Leliana both clucking at her in dismay at the idea of it, running around so openly without an alibi. The book is distraction. But more than that...

It would be pleasant, to take a moment to sit down with bare feet in the grass and read. She isn't home, not yet. But she's somewhere safe enough where she can leave her uniform in her room for the moment, wear hose and a full tunic, wear slippers instead of boots and then be able to take those slippers off. Her clothes are still warden-blue and white and grey, and she knows that 'tiny elven woman with black braids, carrying a poleaxe for a mage's staff' screams Warden-Commander Eldiana Surana (her jewelled earring, dangling as always from her left earlobe, is another give-away), but there's at least a vague air of anonymity. Vague. Very... vague. But it's there, and she wants to get the lay of the land before dealing with the wardens she's seen around. She really needs to say hello to the Inquisitor.

Once she's read a few pages.

Maybe a few more.

... Maybe she can finish the chapter. Except, except she hasn't survived to see her thirtieth birthday without developing a sense of when she's being watched, and she looks up. Then, smoothly, stands up and inclines her head respectfully.

"Lady Inquisitor."

(Of course Eldy is shorter than the other woman. Of course. One would think she'd be used to it by now, but alas.)
Edited 2017-09-11 05:19 (UTC)
be_valorous: (forthright)

[personal profile] be_valorous 2017-09-27 10:14 am (UTC)(link)
Eldy thinks she can recognize that look: she rarely had access to a mirror the year of the Blight, the year she'd been on the run and trying to muster an army, but she looks at the blonde young woman and thinks, yes, I've been in your shoes.

It's early enough that Inquisitor Iona would have been fully in her rights to still be in bed. Early enough to melt away, avoid. Velanna's certainly lost none of her Dalish skills over the years. Except, no, she shouldn't have thought about Velanna, because Maker only knows where she is now. Dead? Thrown herself into the Deep Roads or cut down by her fellow wardens in whatever struggle has happened in Eldy's absence? Vanished?

She doesn't know. She doesn't know, and it's a constant prickle of guilt and unease under her skin. But this woman standing in front of her wouldn't know where Velanna is, where Oghren, where Sigrun, where Nathaniel, where Sadie, where Ben where Isk where- where any of her people are. They are Eldiana Surana's people, not Iona of Clan Lavellan's. Maybe Leliana might have some names on file, and Eldy is going to track down her best friend later and ask, but there's no point in any demands.

A lifetime of self-control as a mage is, she's long since worked out, useful in politics, too.

"I wasn't expecting to see you so early," Eldy begins. She has a... Well, when people are unkind, they call her voice 'prissy', and she can't really argue with them. It's a high, feminine, very precise voice with all those educated vowels. It can put people off their guard, make them dismiss her despite her intensity. It can also annoy the heck out of others. Hopefully, it won't annoy the Inquisitor. "And I would like to say thank you, for letting me and my people stay here as we travel back home. I do appreciate that courtesy."

People come here all the time, Eldy knows. But this is Iona's fortress, her home in many ways, and no matter that she didn't punish the Warden Order for whatever stupidity happened at Adamant, Eldy doesn't want to take it for granted. Nor does she want to give the impression of taking it for granted.