open / gen.

[fitzrovia]

G E N E R A L . — pick a character of mine, drop a comment. alternatively, comment and don't pick a character if ya ain't particularly fussed. all formats welcome; prose, action, prompts, text, e-mail, whatever you want. — pls link images if they seem to be straying into nsfw territory of some sort (on a gen. post, i know).

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[knightenchanted]

[ if there's anything that lliorel is particularly adept in, it's leaping into conversations and situations with far more external confidence than what she feels inside. she'd have thought, or at least hoped, that by now she might have actually acquired a more solid sense of internal confidence too, but... nope, not yet. either way, it doesn't stop her from keeping on in this vein. good on him for exacting such an effective pause. lliorel can't tell whether it's intended or accidental, the product of his needing to finish the wine first, but she feels her heart hammer a little bit harder in her chest for it.

she stays quite still and thoughtfully silent for a moment. mulling over the words, forcing herself to think about things that she has so far managed to sidestep in her own head. ]

Sometimes I can't help but wonder if that's not what the world needs, [ she begins softly, as though making a terrible admission ] But I know that it isn't. That I wouldn't make the world any better than what it is by doing so. I've not intention of martyring myself for this cause; I want to see it through to its end, whatever that end may be. I've never felt something like this before, something that desperately makes me want to live, survive and fight.

[ her expression twists, somewhere between cringing and flinching. ]

I suppose I must sound naive, but I can't help that. Until something gives me cause to feel differently about it... that's how I'll feel. [ she gives aedan a long, long look. ] Though I don't believe for a moment that it wouldn't have broken many hearts and hopes if you had not survived the Blight. I know that isn't quite what you meant, but all the same.

[greyhero]

Well, what can I say... Thedas wasn't ready to let go of me just yet.

[ He says this with a bleak smile, edged with resignation and dry humour. Precedence had demanded that a Warden should give their life to end the Blight but through Morrigan's deepest, darkest magic neither Aedan nor Alistair had needed to sacrifice their lives. Apparently the Maker had another path for him that didn't involve dying with the Archdemon. Survival had meant Alistair's fate had led him to finally take up the crown of Ferelden but what did Aedan have? Ten years of fruitlessly searching for a cure for the Taint with nothing to show for it. Yet.

But this conversation isn't about his successes and failures - it's about the Inquisitor and everything she stands for. Aedan can't help but marvel at her now, listening to her thoughts on sacrifice for a cause that could very easily take her young life from her at any moment.

His heart breaks right there for a moment - people like Lliorel shouldn't have to throw themselves on the Maker's mercy, not when they have their whole lives ahead of them. To hear her promise to fight, to fiercely survive in the face of it all, transforms his smile in to one of genuine pleasure. ]

Yeah. Tell death to go to hell, that's what I'm saying, [ He agrees as he reaches for the bottle and steadily tops up his goblet. ]

Oh, and don't play Leliana at cards. That's my other advice.

[knightenchanted]

Good.

[ still, his successes embolden her. they give her at least the hope that there's a chance of surviving this, of beating it. if he could do the unthinkable, defeating and kicking back the blight without dying in the process, then maybe she could defeat corypheus too. even more hopefully, perhaps without losing her self in the process. because if she loses that, well, she might as well have lost the whole fight.

the way lliorel would see it, maybe — yes, she has an entire life that's worth living stretching out ahead of her. a life that would have been very different if corypheus wasn't descending upon thedas, but there's the point, isn't it? that option has been scattered to the wind. it's gone, and if lliorel hadn't stepped up to become the inquisitor, then who would have in her place? someone else, young and naive and inexperienced, but just as frightfully lucky as she was thus far? any life could have been the one at the helm. she'll do right by the cards she's been dealt. she's determined to. ]

It certainly can. And if it comes knocking, I'll tell it some things from home that I won't let your delicate human ears hear, and scare it back to where it came from.

[ she grins, a little wolfishly, behind her goblet again, taking a bolder gulp this time and vaguely regretting it, though she hides it well. there goes any intention of keeping up with aedan in terms of speed, but she thinks she has the stomach to keep up with the volume. probably. ]

Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. I value my dignity as well as my life, I'll have you know.

[greyhero]

[ Having helped himself to the Inquisitor's bottle of finest Fereldan wine Aedan can't help but top up his goblet a little too generously - it's good stuff and their conversation is warm enough to encourage him to be a little familiar. He points the neck of the bottle her way, silently offering to top her glass up for her just as generously as he has his own. ]

Oh, Maker. Dignity. [ He laughs, shaking his head in rueful apology. ] Say goodbye to dignity, I'm afraid. You're a hero now, heroes don't get to have dignity...

[ Not when there are a hundred and one bards out there across Thedas champing at the bit to write the bawdiest ballad about whose bed their hero du jour ends up in at any given time - Aedan should know, he's been the subject of too many over the years. He's even sung a few himself. ]

There's bound to be a trashy novel about you already, [ He points out with a grin. ] Several, probably. Fame in Thedas spreads pretty damn quickly...

[knightenchanted]

[ although her own wine is only just past half empty, lliorel extends it to aedan after a moment's consideration. a full goblet is a happy goblet, is it not? or, something. either way, the cellars aren't lacking for their many vintages, so she isn't even remotely concerned with the speed that aedan ploughs through it. so long as he can handle it and doesn't end up nakedly swinging on a rope made of her bed sheets from the the balcony, singing the songs detailing his apparent bawdy exploits. which she doesn't think he will.

she laughs, a short, sharp sound, her face lit with some kind of incredulous, morbid curiosity. ]

And so long as I've not seen a word of it, my blissfully ignorant dignity can remain in tact! [ she pauses, thoughtfully swirling her wine around her goblet a few times before she glances back at aedan from beneath crinkled brows. that she is trying not to continue laughing is fairly obvious. ] I can't decide if I would wish to read it. I'd imagine in some areas it'll be entirely more interesting that my actual life.

[ ... ] I'm sure Varric could find me one.

[greyhero]

[ He doesn't set the bottle down until Lliorel's glass is practically brimming; he knows he's being cheeky again with how much he's pouring but the Inquisitor could probably do with a drink. Aedan nods thoughtfully at the idea of blissful ignorance protecting one's dignity - it never worked for him, but that could say something more about his propensity for reading trashy novels and singing bawdy songs than anything else. ]

Well, if you do find any just don't take them too seriously, that's all, [ Aedan confides - more advice from one Thedosian hero to another as he takes another mouthful of rich wine.

The name - Varric - is one that Aedan finds vaguely familiar - not that he knows many of the Inquisitor's circle except for Cullen and Leliana - and he tilts his head curiously. ]

Varric? Why do I know that name?

[knightenchanted]

[ she pulls a face at the fullness of her glass, and doubts that aedan will pay it any attention. taking care not to spill it all over herself, she lifts it back to her lips to drink as much as she can, as quickly as she can, before her hands betray her and spill it over her fine clothing. and it is fine clothing. lliorel has never known a mage's coat to be made so well, except for perhaps amongst some of the better off clans, the ones that made the best deals with orlesian cloth merchants. she has thicker skin than she would give herself credit for, in any case — her dignity would withstand the knock of a trashy novel, whether she knew about it or not.

just about, in any case.

though lliorel is herself excellent at remembering both names and faces (at times somewhat alarming to inquisition soldiers that she addresses by name, who have never even happened to see her own face to know it is the inquisitor), she forgets that people like aedan have not been spending all their time learning the ins and outs of the inquisition's constantly expanding roster. she blinks once, daftly, before remembering this very fact. ]

Varric Tethras — the infamous hand behind The Tale of the Champion and Hard in Hightown, to name just a few. The few that I remember, anyway, he has something of an extensive bibliography to his name. He's amongst our company, here.

[ and very comforting company he makes; he is by far the person lliorel is least worried to speak to about whatever's going on in her head, as much as she genuinely trusts in her various companions already. ]

[greyhero]

[ Aedan snaps a finger in sudden realisation; yes, of course he's heard of the name Varric Tethras, how could he possibly have forgotten? Hard in Hightown's infamy had spread across Thedas, even reaching so far as the edges of the Tirashan where Aedan had been conducting his years long mission. He'd spotted a cheap copy with poor binding and crude illustrations from a wandering trader, the type Aedan always seems to meet on the roads of Thedas, and bartered away a few stolen daggers in exchange for the curious book. It had made him miss home, tragically enough, despite the high drama and dubious plot twists. ]

That guy? He's with the Inquisition? [ The idea is a bit ludicrous as Aedan makes clear in his expression. What a best-selling author is doing within the ranks of the Chantry's army (or whoever's army it is now) is a anyone's guess. ]

So is he writing or fighting? I guess they do say the pen is mightier than the sword but I didn't think anyone meant that, y'know, literally.

[knightenchanted]

He's been a part of it since the very start, so long as you consider the start to be when I woke up underneath Haven's Chantry. He helped us close the Breach.

[ there's a fondness in the way lliorel speaks of him, like she's talking about a favourite relative almost. lliorel speaks of most of her companions with warmth, even those she has struggled to see to eye to eye with. she appreciates their efforts wholeheartedly, regardless of their differences. ]

Both, I would imagine, though it's fighting that I've seen the most of. He's quite the shot with his crossbow.

[greyhero]

[ He laughs at that, both impressed and delighted by the fact that the Inquisition has a celebrity author within its ranks. Surely that must make the Inquisitor herself only the second most famous person in Skyhold, after Tethras. Aedan is sure there's something witty to be said about heroes creating their own narratives but he keeps that little thought to himself. ]

A crossbow? Maker, that's brilliant. [ Aedan takes another mouthful of wine as he contemplates the merits of a crossbow-wielding author. It's a wonder that Tethras has any bad reviews of his books at all if he's that good a shot. ]

You have got to introduce me. You don't have a choice in the matter, I'm afraid...

[knightenchanted]

[ only the second most popular in skyhold, certainly, and anywhere else. being both an elf and a mage, on top of the inquisition's reputation remaining questionable in some circles — well, lliorel wouldn't be surprised if she ranked third or fourth, even. not that she has ever expected any kind of universal adoration, or even respect. you take your lot, and you work to change the minds and hearts of those who are willing to listen, to learn. but not everyone is. that's a burden everyone bears, no matter their background, their race. as for the narrative, gods! if lliorel was able to follow her own, it would have been a relief. that's for varric, and varric only to deal with. ]

Isn't it? It's quite the impressive piece of work. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to demonstrate her capabilities to you.

[ she smiles a little broader, put at ease by how delighted aedan seems to be by this information. either way, she's beginning to see him now as more of a man than a figure, held up by mythic stories. it's less intimidating, this way. it calms her. ]

As if I didn't intend to! I think you'd get on wonderfully.