ooc: Sorry to be so absent, going through some shit. ilu all and I’ll try to be online again soon.
also, to those of you who ‘liked’ that post with the beginning of my ballad/epic in it: You made my month. Seriously.
Sigrun resisted the urge to poke at Finn, barely. It would be a little too easy judging from the expression on his face. So instead she grinned at Leliana, “You didn’t know? Well, I haven’t had to wear my blues around much lately, but still. I guess I’m just used to being around Wardens so much that it’s assumed that I’m one as well.”
She couldn’t help the reflexive twitch at the mention of how she’d met Neria in the first place, since it’d also led to her introduction to those sodding broodmothers that haunted her darkspawn dreams. But she added her share to the story, like they’d done in the past when recounting the whole adventure that led to her joining the Wardens in the first place. It wasn’t pretty, but to be honest, it could have gone so much worse and she was better off for it.
When Neria deadpanned the beginning of her story, Leliana was already moving to protest. She was pleasantly surprised when the Warden continued without being prodded. She sat in silence, absorbing all of the unbelievable details. A new form of Darkspawn? A Broodmother breeding ground? It was all almost too terrible to hear. Neria claimed to be a poor storyteller, but she had a knack for describing things in a way that made all the listeners shudder. In contrast, a lot of the details that Sigrun supplied got a chuckle out of the other two women. Leliana had noticed the dwarf’s infectious positivity, it was impossible not to. However, after this story, it looked like she could put a good spin on nearly any situation - save for a few details that had lapsed the whole table into respectful silence. The sacrifices of the Legion of the Dead were overwhelming. Leliana wondered if Sigrun would allow her to write a commemorative song in honor of the Legionnaires.
The bard grinned sheepishly back at Sigrun. “I admit, I have not been paying much attention to the activities of the Wardens since I left for Orlais. I knew they were rebuilding, of course, but I have never met any Ferelden Wardens aside from Alistair and Neria. I hope I get to meet the rest of your group. You said a few of them were in Kirkwall, as well?”
She cast a glance at Neria. “I hope you don’t think you are going to to get away with only telling me part of this story. It’s obvious that there is far more too it.” She leaned back in her chair, smiling like she had won something. “I need to add it to your ballad.”
Neria leaned back in her chair once the recollection of the tale had finished, frowning slightly. She didn’t particularly like to think of what happened in that first year; yes, she had gained
friendsnew companions, and stopped a great threat, but-But the repercussions for her decisions were still being felt. Nobody easily forgot the burning of Amaranthine; certainly not Neria, not when she had to oversee the city’s reconstruction. She had publicly defended her actions only once, after a small mob had clashed with the Wardens and been killed over it. Her silence only served to fuel the rumors of Warden conspiracy throughout Ferelden.
She sighed at the thought; it wasn’t something she wanted in her ballad-
Wait, ballad?
“Leliana…” She shook her head, unsure whether to smile or frown at her friend. “This is not quite such a heroic tale as the Blight can be turned into. It’s not made for a song.”
Leliana’a joking smile disappeared when she saw the conflicted emotions on Neria’s face. The story that had been recounted tonight pieced together with the details Leliana had heard in Orlais made it sound like a difficult journey, but they had been through hard times before. Neria had always come out of their trials stronger and more prepared for the next one. It was disconcerting to see her upset.
Her first instinct was to go console her friend, but she had learned long ago that it was a terrible idea to bring unwanted attention to the elf. Still, she felt like she had to do something.
“How can you say that? You haven’t even heard any of it yet!”
She grabbed her lute from it’s resting place and began to pluck at the strings, not really singing, but simply reciting the lines in a deliberate and carefully timed melody.
“A time of darkness had descended
Upon the guileless land
Corruption spread through the southern wood
Bringing ruination to all it touched
The swift flight of brave-hearted soldiers
could not cease the blackéned wave
The creatures twisted forms
Maddened good men
Their vile poison pulsing though the veins
Of friend and foe alike - “
Leliana glanced up at Neria’s inquisitive expression, and held the lute up slightly, turning it in her hands. “It’s okay, I just dropped it when I saw you come in. Silly of me, really.” She felt her face start to warm at her confession and quickly busied herself standing the instrument against the legs of her seat. After a few moments she was certain her composure had returned and she sat back up, grabbing one of the mugs from the tray Norah had delivered. She probably wouldn’t drink most of it, but it was nice to have something to do with her hands.
She glanced around the table, wondering what was upsetting the mage across the table, but as he seemed to have collapsed in upon himself, she decided it was probably best to leave him alone for the moment. Instead, turning her attention back to the commander and Sigrun,
“How is it that you two know each other, exactly?”
Neria shrugged helplessly at Sigrun; she had long learned to stop questioning strange coincidences when it came to the company she kept. “They were gathering here long before I showed up. I’m just caught in the tide, apparently.” She reached over and patted Finn on the arm gently, absent-mindedly, unsure what, exactly, had caused the metaphorical storm cloud.
The elf propped her elbows up on the table as she pondered Leliana’s inquiry. “She’s a Warden,” she replied, almost deadpan, knowing the bard would not be satisfied until she had every detail of their meeting. “…I know, I know, you want to hear the story! Well… it was right when I’d been assigned as Warden-Commander…”
Neria was not a storyteller by any means, but she managed to make the tale of reaching Kal-Hirol at least somewhat interesting, allowing Sigrun to fill in some of the gaps. “Then we reached what had to be the longest hallway in history…”
Sigrun resisted the urge to poke at Finn, barely. It would be a little too easy judging from the expression on his face. So instead she grinned at Leliana, “You didn’t know? Well, I haven’t had to wear my blues around much lately, but still. I guess I’m just used to being around Wardens so much that it’s assumed that I’m one as well.”
She couldn’t help the reflexive twitch at the mention of how she’d met Neria in the first place, since it’d also led to her introduction to those sodding broodmothers that haunted her darkspawn dreams. But she added her share to the story, like they’d done in the past when recounting the whole adventure that led to her joining the Wardens in the first place. It wasn’t pretty, but to be honest, it could have gone so much worse and she was better off for it.
When Neria deadpanned the beginning of her story, Leliana was already moving to protest. She was pleasantly surprised when the Warden continued without being prodded. She sat in silence, absorbing all of the unbelievable details. A new form of Darkspawn? A Broodmother breeding ground? It was all almost too terrible to hear. Neria claimed to be a poor storyteller, but she had a knack for describing things in a way that made all the listeners shudder. In contrast, a lot of the details that Sigrun supplied got a chuckle out of the other two women. Leliana had noticed the dwarf’s infectious positivity, it was impossible not to. However, after this story, it looked like she could put a good spin on nearly any situation - save for a few details that had lapsed the whole table into respectful silence. The sacrifices of the Legion of the Dead were overwhelming. Leliana wondered if Sigrun would allow her to write a commemorative song in honor of the Legionnaires.
The bard grinned sheepishly back at Sigrun. “I admit, I have not been paying much attention to the activities of the Wardens since I left for Orlais. I knew they were rebuilding, of course, but I have never met any Ferelden Wardens aside from Alistair and Neria. I hope I get to meet the rest of your group. You said a few of them were in Kirkwall, as well?”
She cast a glance at Neria. “I hope you don’t think you are going to to get away with only telling me part of this story. It’s obvious that there is far more too it.” She leaned back in her chair, smiling like she had won something. “I need to add it to your ballad.”
Neria shook her head at Finn. “I have responsibilities now- and the Circle’s in no state to take anyone back right now.” The Ferelden Circle may have been one of the more stable ones left… but even the support of the Ferelden nobility wouldn’t stem the tide of change forever.
Most of the other Circles had rebelled. Neria didn’t like thinking about it.
She shook herself and sat down delicately next to Sigrun, patting Merlin on the head. “You know me- I collect people.” She grinned a little. “This is Finn- I knew him from the Ferelden Circle- Finn, this is Sigrun, a fellow Warden.” She leaned over to see Leliana’s lute as she spoke.
She offered a hand to the mage with a smile, “Nice to meet ya, Finn! Guess you’ve known the Commander a long time then?” Norah was already bringing them a round and Sigrun mused that perhaps she did spend a little too much time in the Hanged Man since arriving in Kirkwall if she was becoming so predictable.
“So, it’s not just the Wardens that seem to be gathering here then, but the old blight company and Circle friends? Commander, even for you, that’s a hell of a coincidence.”
Finn flexed his fingers, then reached out a genteel hand to clasp Sigrun’s and give it a shake. “Yes, we’ve been acquainted some years,” he said, extracted his hand from hers, and then put both his hands in his pockets. Hopefully that would discourage any future attempts at overt friendliness from anyone.
And it wasn’t as though he didn’t now have good reason to brood like a human version of Fenris with brown hair; all Neria had to do was mention the Circle—home—and it was like Finn’s own personal raincloud of gloominess had just materialized over his head.
A bit like this.
Leliana glanced up at Neria’s inquisitive expression, and held the lute up slightly, turning it in her hands. “It’s okay, I just dropped it when I saw you come in. Silly of me, really.” She felt her face start to warm at her confession and quickly busied herself standing the instrument against the legs of her seat. After a few moments she was certain her composure had returned and she sat back up, grabbing one of the mugs from the tray Norah had delivered. She probably wouldn’t drink most of it, but it was nice to have something to do with her hands.
She glanced around the table, wondering what was upsetting the mage across the table, but as he seemed to have collapsed in upon himself, she decided it was probably best to leave him alone for the moment. Instead, turning her attention back to the commander and Sigrun,
“How is it that you two know each other, exactly?”
Merlin sniffed the air, then put his nose to the blood-stained floor and began to weave his way through the crowd, knocking over some less stable patrons in his quest. Neria gestured for them to follow as she spoke. “Yes- I’ve gotten the hang of the Warden-Commander bit if the package, I think… but the nobles…” She pursed her lips; even if she was the ‘Hero of Ferelden,’ not everyone was fond of her- especially since she was an elf, not to mention a mage. ”It gets frustrating.”
Merlin trotted happily over to the corner where Sigrun sat, whuffing his greeting and planting himself under the table, setting his head on her knee.
Sigrun hopped down from her chair once Neria headed her way, grinning widely at the group headed her way, laughter evident in her voice as she called out, “You can’t go anywhere without picking up all of the strays, can you Commander?”
“And lucky for you, the owner of this place seems to like me, so it wasn’t hard to get a table big enough for whoever you ended up collecting along the way.”
“Lovely to meet you.” Finn courteously shook her hand… then inspected his palm as though searching for tavern germs on it. He (not so) discreetly wiped his hand off with a clean portion of the kerchief he’d used to scrub away diligently at that mabari slobber.
“Well,” he said to Neria, examining his fingers, “you could always go back to the Circle—well.” All right, possibly not. As the group drifted towards the tattooed dwarf, Finn held back some, eyeing her nervously. Did he know her? Had they been introduced? Did she like books?
Sigrun’s familiar greeting surprised Leliana. “You two know each other?” She started to sit down, but immediately stood straight up again. Placing the palm of her hand on her forehead she quietly uttered “Oh mon dieu.”
One quick walk across the room later she was sitting next to Sigrun, facing away from the table with her lute in her lap. She fussed with the strings, running her fingers over the body of the instrument and silently chiding herself while she checked for scuffs and damage.
Merlin’s response was to bark once and wag his tail furiously. ‘Good,’ he seemed to say, obviously unaffected by the now not-so-meticulous state of Finn’s robes.
Neria raised a hand to rub at the back of her neck, raising an eyebrow her dog’s antic’s. “I am… still. It’s just that a lot of my company’s found their way here, and hasn’t come back. Not to mention the King, and Queen, and apparently you and several other people I know…”
She smiled a little, sheepishly. “And maybe I needed a little break from the Keep.”
Leliana couldn’t help laughing at the expression on the Warden’s face. She quickly stifled it, but not before earning herself an exasperated sigh from Neria. “I’m sorry, I can just picture you attempting to attend to the duties expected of an Arlessa. I am not surprised you need to get away from it.”
She smiled, casting a glance around the room. “It is strange, isn’t it? I spoke with Alistair when I arrived here, and I have run into many people I know… some of whom I never thought I’d see again.”
She turned her attention to the young man glaring at Merlin. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
Finn had just been told off by a dog. He could add that to his list of Things He Never Expected To Have Happen To Him (Again).
Stewing, he turned a less than friendly look on Leliana before realizing he was scowling at a person, now, and not a dog, and schooled the look into something marginally less sour. “I’m Finn,” he said, stepped over a suspicious looking stain on the floor boards, and offered out a hand for a shake.
The scowl on Finn’s face caught her off guard, but it disappeared so quickly that she couldn’t be sure she hadn’t imagined it.
“Leliana.” she replied with a smile, taking his hand. The Hanged Man was in its usual state of crowded activity and Leliana was suddenly very aware that they were blocking the door. “Should we find a table?”
Leliana happily let herself be embraced, wrapping her arms around the petite elven woman.
“And Merlin!” She knelt down to scratch the mabari’s back while he happily jumped around her, lapping at her exposed arms. “You’re as handsome as ever, you know.” Merlin barked happily, wagging his stumpy tail.
Leliana stood back up to face the Warden and her companion. “Neria, what are you doing in Kirkwall? I thought you were Ferelden’s Warden-Commander?”
Finn trundled into the Hanged Man on Neria’s heels wearing a sullen scowl and wiping desperately (and daintily) with a kerchief at a smear of mabari slobber on his sleeve. The minor catastrophe had, thankfully, distracted him from how packed the tavern was, and also caused him to miss most of the happy reunion occurring between the Warden and the bard.
He focused his ire on Merlin instead. Or his most notorious pouty face, anyway. He brandished his scrawny forearm at the dog. “Look at that,” he muttered, “that stain is never going to come out.”
Merlin’s response was to bark once and wag his tail furiously. ‘Good,’ he seemed to say, obviously unaffected by the now not-so-meticulous state of Finn’s robes.
Neria raised a hand to rub at the back of her neck, raising an eyebrow her dog’s antic’s. “I am… still. It’s just that a lot of my company’s found their way here, and hasn’t come back. Not to mention the King, and Queen, and apparently you and several other people I know…”
She smiled a little, sheepishly. “And maybe I needed a little break from the Keep.”
Leliana couldn’t help laughing at the expression on the Warden’s face. She quickly stifled it, but not before earning herself an exasperated sigh from Neria. “I’m sorry, I can just picture you attempting to attend to the duties expected of an Arlessa. I am not surprised you need to get away from it.”
She smiled, casting a glance around the room. “It is strange, isn’t it? I spoke with Alistair when I arrived here, and I have run into many people I know… some of whom I never thought I’d see again.”
She turned her attention to the young man glaring at Merlin. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
The dark corners of the Hanged Man were perfect for ambiance. Leliana’s love of stories often meant that she would go out of her way to create the perfect atmosphere for a tale, no matter how inconvenient it was for everyone else. Although it would grate against her nerves when she backed herself into a corner, she trusted her training to help her out of dangerous situations. If it ever failed… well, that was one more story.
[…]
“Alright, Merlin,” she had told the over-excited mabari, a joke to calm her usual nerves when entering a far-too-crowded area, “act natural.” Merlin cocked his head at her, wagged once, and promptly attempted to lick the nearest drunken patron of the tavern to death.
Neria sighed, and stepped further into the room, conspicuous and clearly not enjoying it. She scanned the crowd for a familiar horned helmet, or perhaps a set of ghoulish tattoos- Sigrun had to be around here somewhere…
“Do you see her, Finn? Dwarf with tattoos on her face? Probably the only dwarven woman in the entire city?” she asked, turning to look at him; he did even worse in crowds than she did. She barely noticed when the soft background lilt of a lute ceased abruptly, preoccupied with ignoring the double-takes people were doing at the sight of an elf in full Warden regalia, sword at her hip and staff at her back. It took a lot of practice to simply ignore such things, rather than what her first, old instinct was to do- turn around and walk back out.
She’d out-grown that urge. Mostly.
When Neria’s roaming gaze didn’t spot the dwarven Warden, she hesitated, lingering near the door, unsure if she should wait, or perhaps send another message- but then a familiar, softly accented voice spoke from behind her. The mage inhaled sharply, turning around to face the other. “…Leliana!”
It really was a Blight family reunion. Neria laughed breathlessly, reaching out to hug the bard. “It’s been… forever!”
Leliana happily let herself be embraced, wrapping her arms around the petite elven woman.
“And Merlin!” She knelt down to scratch the mabari’s back while he happily jumped around her, lapping at her exposed arms. “You’re as handsome as ever, you know.” Merlin barked happily, wagging his stumpy tail.
Leliana stood back up to face the Warden and her companion. “Neria, what are you doing in Kirkwall? I thought you were Ferelden’s Warden-Commander?”
The dark corners of the Hanged Man were perfect for ambiance. Leliana’s love of stories often meant that she would go out of her way to create the perfect atmosphere for a tale, no matter how inconvenient it was for everyone else. Although it would grate against her nerves when she backed herself into a corner, she trusted her training to help her out of dangerous situations. If it ever failed… well, that was one more story.
As it was, she had a crowd of half a dozen patrons in a semi-circle around her. Half-burned candles flickered on close-by tables and mugs of ale sat, temporally forgotten, in front of their owners. Her gift for enrapturing an audience had proven useful for less savory pursuits in the past, but now it was just storytelling. It was better that way.
Leliana half-sat, perched on a stool stolen from the bar, with her lute hanging from it’s leather shoulder strap and her hands gesturing enthusiastically to punctuate her story in harmony with her voice. The tempo and pitch of her words rose with the dramatic tension of the scene she was describing, and she found herself nearly as enthralled as her audience with the excitement of recounting the tale.
Still, her instincts as a Bard were hard-won and ever-present. When the door to Hanged Man opened, she always noticed, and always quickly noted the visitors.
“The wind was sharp against our skin, the freezing air from the mountain top mixed with the the flurries created by every beat of the dragon’s wings. The cold stung bitterly but we knew that a moment’s hesitation could cost us our lives. As the beast let loose another roar, preparing to scorch the barren ground with it’s fire, Neria raised her staff and-“
Leliana’s voice broke with a squeak as she registered the tavern’s latest visitor. Her listeners were confused and began murmuring amongst themselves after several moments had passed. A young man with kind eyes gently placed a hand on the storyteller’s arm, quietly asking if she was all right.
“Excuse… Excusez-moi.” She brushed his hand away lifted the strap of her lute over her head, letting the instrument fall to the floor with a clatter. She pushed roughly through the crowd with no regard for the patrons, simply trying to keep her eyes focused on their target. Every time she recounted one of these stories, in the back of her mind she would imagine what it would be like if Neria walked in. If she blinked, it might turn out to be just another fantasy.
She walked up to the woman, standing just behind her. “Neria?”
