TEST DRIVE MEME!

[faderifting]

TEST DRIVE: ORLAIS EDITION

I. EVERYBEAR I GO

Believe it or not, there are bears in Orlais, too. Stuffed ones posed in noble salons casting intimidating shadows as lords tell unlikely stories about how they bravely stared the great beast in the eye before they slayed it with a single shot. One comtesse keeps bears as pets in large pens on her estate, much to the distress of her nearest neighbors. But most common are the dancing bear acts found on street corners here and there. Perhaps there is some sort of special bear communication network that has passed on a message, because it seems like the presence of the Inquisition has inspired these bears to finally make a break for it out of servitude, and that is how you find yourself being chased by a bear in a belled hat down a narrow cobbled alley lined with street vendors.

II. OUI OUI MON AMI

The Inquisition's efforts are currently focused on Orlais, where a civil war is raging and intelligence indicates Corypheus seeks to eliminate Empress Celene, while the oppressed elven population's discontent threatens to bubble over into a second rebellion. The Inquisition's activities here are mostly political and designed to gather influence and information: endeavoring to make a good impression at the ball of an influential comtesse with ties to the Council of Heralds, or assisting with the reconstruction of the alienage district destroyed by fire. There are rowdy soldiers in taverns to eavesdrop on, and restless crowds listening to streetcorner speakers preach Celene's virtues, or Gaspard's, or lament the end of the world.

But honestly, who cares about any of that? Halamshiral also offers great high-end shopping. Priorities. Gowns, tunics, fur-trimmed cloaks, sleeves slashed and puffed with layers of bright-colored satin. Tall boots with gold spurs to clink as you walk. Veils, lace-trimmed smallclothes, perfumes, necklaces worth your weight in gold. If you have the coin, the shopkeeps have time for you. The slightest whiff of poverty will leave them cold toward you. They might even pretend not to see you, but hey: they work on commission.

Even among decadence and finery, there are signs of unrest. In an out-of-the-way village square, little Orlesian children gather to throw thick gold coins in a gilt fountain, with whispered wishes and giggles. All at once, a thief pushes his way into their circle, breaking the idyllic scene. He leaps into the fountain and grabs a handful of coin. Thin, dirty, ragged, hollow-eyed and, under the hood of his cloak, elven, he scans the now-screaming children -- and then takes off running.

“Stop him!” howls one precious Orlesian cherub, her rosy cheeks streaked with tears. “That dirty knife-ear took my money!”

Kids are just the cutest.

III. SKYHOLD

Skyhold is where people who don't like fun accents and life being a constant masquerade hang around repairing walls, filling out paperwork, and, on rare occasions, engaging in elaborate, color-coded team snowball fights.

That last occasion? Totally over. Now the Inquisition will see you work, work, work, work, work. Working to save Thedas is not all fun and games, and there are plenty of things to keep you busy in Skyhold. See that roof over there? It has a hole in it. Climb up, someone suggests, and fix it. See that hole over there, in the wall? Some drunk from the tavern fell through it yesterday, and it needs repairs. See that floor over there? It’s dirty. And here’s a mop.

If these tasks seem too menial and demeaning, perhaps you’d like to head up to the library and reshelve some books. Perhaps you’d like to meet a special friend there? The stacks are warm and cozy, and at least a little out of the way. Secret spaces are at a premium. But be careful: you aren’t the only one in Skyhold, no matter how many people shipped out to Orlais.

If warm ovens are more your style than warm books, try the kitchens. They could always use a helping hand - especially because one of the baby griffons has made its way down there. A sharp-beaked competition for your plans to pilfer snacks, but you’ll prevail, right? The griffon loves chicken, and the taste of your blood. Get her outside before she gets too comfortable.

Or just feed the dogs, you dirty Fereldan.

IV. WILDCARD

Thedas is a big place. Do something else in it. Maybe in the Hinterlands.

Comments

( a ) jumps on you here too

[rowancrowned]

[ it was impossible to miss celebrimbor's arrival. impossible to miss the arrival of another quendi. but thranduil had not gone to him on his sickbed, had not announced himself before now. they were not close enough kin. if galadriel had not been here, the duty would have fallen to him, but she was, and it came to her first to care for her cousin.

he wears an embroidered tunic, pants, no splendid robe nor circlet, no jewelry beyond the rings on his fingers, and he takes care to approach from celebrimbor's good side, to bow with grace and dignity, and then raise his eyes to celebrimbor's. ]

Mae l'ovannen. May I sit with you?

[ formality is a good shield against many things. ]

yes good

[silverfist]

[ for a moment, celebrimbor looks as if he's uncertain how to respond, which is true. of course he's aware that he's not alone here from the world he knows, but-- though sauron isn't present here, he'd still steeped celebrimbor in his filth. there is no part of him that hasn't been defiled, and he knows it. he feels it every moment of every day. why would anyone who understands that want anything to do with him--?

that, he decides abruptly, forcing the thought away, that is self-pity, and he won't have it.

instead, he dips his chin at last in a small, short nod, lacing his fingers together in his lap as if to hide them. ]

I was surprised to realize that I was not alone here, [ he admits after a moment, single eye sliding away from thranduil's face, out toward the gardens once more. it had been days before he'd been conscious enough to be aware of much at all, truthfully. ]

[rowancrowned]

Less alone [ gently. ] than you might think.

[ he sits, and keeps as much space between the two of them as the bench allows. there are other elves in the garden, even if they are of thedas and not arda, even if they wear their hair like celebrimbor does, with no inkling to the meaning. at least on celebrimbor, it shows what it ought to- illness. something horrible, rather than a fashion choice. ]

I am afraid [ he starts, as he must, somewhere. ] that we never met in Arda. My wife was [ and how he wishes for the special tense in sindarin that indicates a spouse across the sea, rather than the too-mortal past tense! ] a jeweler who studied in Eregion, for a time.

[silverfist]

[ he tenses at the mention of his city, heart clenching painfully in his chest. he cannot now know how many were able to escape before sauron's forces invaded, before sauron himself took celebrimbor. he can only hope for the best.

still-- ] We did not. [ a brief pause, turning his head slightly to glance at the blond's profile. ] .. What is her name? Was she one of mine? [ had she been in eregion when it fell, or had she left before that?

is that how he knows celebrimbor, through his wife? or perhaps galadriel had spoken to him. he's not certain he wants to ask. (who knows how he might be remembered in arda, given the frankly stupid mistakes he'd made.)

a brief pause, quiet, and his good eye slides away from thranduil's features again. ] Being here has been.. [ he trails off, glance finding one of the stranger-elves and the dwarf she's laughing with. ] .. disorienting.

[rowancrowned]

Calenmiril. [ white jewels. the mother-name is always correct, in the end. his hands rest in his lap; he touches the largest of his rings, the one set with an uncut diamond. her work, of course. he has three of her pieces here, and only three. ] She studied briefly, did not seek access into the guild beyond being a guest. She, too, was Sinda.

[ and would not have been encouraged as much as a noldo, in other words. ] She came to visit kin in the Greenwood, and I saw her as if for the first time, despite knowing her as a child.

[ it hurts to speak of her, but he does, to this elf who knew her, or knew of her. she was calenmiril. how could she not make an impression upon everyone she met, not shine as brightly in their eyes as she had in his? ] We wed shortly after.

[ and so she avoided the troubles of the city. it is good celebrimbor does not expect eye contact of him, avoiding it as well. the garden is a much more pleasant sight to enjoy. ] Yes. It is. But some things are the same.

[silverfist]

[ he searches his memory for a face to go with the name, thinking it familiar despite all. it's.. difficult at times, recalling life before his time in sauron's hands (before annatar). he has no idea how long he spent in that dark place, but it had taken.. much from him. still-- still, he owes it to the elf beside him to try to recall--

--and abruptly, he does remember, seeing thranduil's touch to the ring. ]

A laugh like a bell. She had an interest in unusual stones at the time, I believe.

[ celebrimbor cared more for his forge and his work than for other people, it had often been said of him, but that isn't true. he loved his family--still does, despite everything they'd done--and he loves galadriel and even (eventually) celeborn. he'd loved-- (eyes like molten gold, a smile like a knife)

he hadn't been shy, precisely, he simply had never quite known how to deal with people the way others in his family could. it had given him the reputation of being withdrawn, even cold; a good ruler with his city and his people in mind always, but not approachable.

despite that, despite the distance he'd often maintained, he doesn't easily forget people. ]

She had fine hands for dainty work. I gave her a good pair of gloves and a tool-kit before she left. [ a pause, unlacing his fingers to rub at the top of his thigh. ] .. It sounds as if you made her happy. I am glad to know it.

[rowancrowned]

[ he smiles- looks to celebrimbor, and smiles. you get caught in a rut of thinking of final moments over the joys of the rest of it. ] Yes. I had no greater desire as a husband. [ his voice is steady ]. When we return to Arda, when you and my wife both are released from the Halls, perhaps I could- premature though this invitation is- beg your company for a meal?

[ but between then and now is a long, long road, with too many perils to name, without light to guide them along it. he looks to celebrimor's leg, to where he touches it, and keeps an even tone. it is, he has found, the easiest way to deal with these things. ]

Am I free to assume you came from before the seventeen hundredth year of the Second Age?

[silverfist]

[ the request earns another glance, uncertain, but upon seeing the smile, he pauses and offers a small nod. ] .. Should she wish to speak to me. It would be good to see her again.

[ when he notices the attention to his leg and the way he's rubbing it, he stills his hand, curling them together once more to ignore the ache. it's only an ache, after all, and he's experienced considerably worse in the last--

last..

he blinks, dizzy, but nods a second time. ] .. I cannot recall how much time passed there, but.. I do not believe it was.. longer than.. [ he trails off, eye squeezing shut as he rubs a knuckle over it and waits for the nausea and disorientation to pass. ] I was dying, at the least.

[rowancrowned]

She spoke fondly of you. [ when she did. it was one of those things that was brought up only once, then laid to rest.

he watches celebrimor realize thranduil is watching him, watches the flinch. this is what happens, he supposes, to those who do not have the grace of glamour to hide what they do not wish to be seen. ]

Has the Lady told you of what will happen? In the Third and the Fourth Age. [ things that have not happened yet for thranduil, things he knows only by the grace of his son's brief, painful presence in thedas. but the telling of these things is not for him, it will come easier from kin. especially from galadriel, who rumors place as close to him.

and for a moment, he is silent. then, suddenly, with the faint smile of the slightly embarrassed: ] I fear I have been very rude. I am Thranduil Oropherion, of the House of Elmo.

[silverfist]

[ when he can no longer taste bile, he finally opens his eye again, breathing in carefully through his nose. he doesn't have enough distance yet to allow himself to think consciously of his imprisonment. ]

There are things we have yet to discuss, but I have heard.. some. [ his mouth twists, self-conscious. ] I fear that I have not been steady enough for everything just yet. [ she knows that, and so does celebrimbor. his physical damage is the very least of it, but.. slowly, he's picking up the pieces of himself. ] It seems good to know, at least, that he was never able to touch the Three. [ it gives meaning to what he'd suffered for and died to hide. he's grateful beyond words for that.

his glance lifts at the introduction, eye widening faintly for a moment before his expression evens again. ] I assure you, there has been no rudeness on your part. I am grateful for the company.

[rowancrowned]

She is your kin. The right falls to her. [ and it is not one that thranduil particularly wants, so it makes this all very simple- he leaves it to her, and tidily moves on, skipping the topic of the three entirely, and all the hurt that might live there. ]

And I am glad to have another Quendi in Thedas, where there is much work to be done. [ but- later. celebrimbor has hurts to heal- the physical ones will be impeded, due to the veil and all the harm it does to those who have their fëa on one side and their hroa on the other. the other hurts can, perhaps, only be healed by mandos and time. well. they are elves, they are entitled to both. ] And especially one who knew my wife.

[ thranduil shifts on the bench, turns his body more towards celebrimbor. ] May I fetch water for you? Tea? Whatever the healers have deemed acceptable for you. Lembas in milk, perhaps, with honey?

[silverfist]

I-- [ he blinks at the offer, startled, finally offering a small shake of his head. ] You have my thanks, but I am well enough. Actually.. [ he reaches for his cane, leaning against it as he rises carefully to his feet. ] I would be more grateful for a distraction from my thoughts, and it would be good for me to walk.

[ he taps the cane against the side of the brace on his bad leg, smile thin. ] My healers fret, but I tire of being an invalid. Will you tell me about this place? All I have learned has been from the native folk thus far.

[ it will be good to hear about this-- world from one of his own people. .. and as he said, it will give him something to think about that isn't (annatar) sauron. ]

[rowancrowned]

[ thranduil nods, standing with his hands held at the small of his back and his head inclined. ] Of course.

[ celebrimbor can lead- celebrimbor knows his limits. celebrimbor is- one known to thranduil only by legacy. there were times they may have crossed, but each one passed without their meeting. ] The Men are Men, as they always are. The Dwarves- I cannot speak of them, for I am afraid I know too little, beyond that they seem as Dwarves always do.

[ dwarfy, in other words, and utterly foreign to thranduil's mind, beyond him ever guessing their motivations being anything beyond pride and greed. as they imagine thranduil's mind runs, for how could they imagine a way of thinking different from their own.

(the less thranduil has to speak of dwarves, the better.) ]

Our kin are-- well, you have seen them. Tell me what you see.