[OPEN] 🌿 And I see winter broken like lace

[ofwovenstone]

WHO: Cassandra de Rolo (ofwovenstone), Aella Tabris (fangoffenharel), Lyanna Stark (ylgr) and OPEN
WHEN: December 15th onward
WHAT: Winter shenanigans and general catch-all for the month.
WHERE: Gazin and the surrounding area.
WARNINGS: None other than the usual ones that come with Cassandra de Rolo (potential for talk of trauma, blood, near death, etc).
NOTES: starters in the comments

Comments

[ulfur]

Ned swallows and smirks back. "The wine is very good," he comments. He'll take the compliment on his company. "It cheers me to have someone to enjoy it with, too. In addition to my sister's, of course." But she is off having her own adventures at the moment, without her big brother to tie her down, or a lover, or most tellingly, a father and mother with expectations of the grand match she'll make.

"Good," he says quietly, reaching across and squeezing her arm. "I would not want to intrude on the solitude of your travels if that is what you would prefer. But it has been a very great privilege to have such a knowledgeable guide here."

Ned lets go and sips again. His gaze turns faraway, reflective. "If only there were a godswood here," he says thoughtfully. "I used to pray every day before the sacred tree in it. We call it the heart tree, in Westeros. I have not felt quite myself without that ritual." He meets Aella's eyes, not apologizing for his beliefs but wondering if she had any of her own to relate to.

[fangoffenharel]

Aella can’t help but hide a laugh in her wine. “That’s one thing Gazin has in abundance. Good alcohol.” But her dark eyes are sparkling, and her smile is fond. “I do hope she can join us one of these days.” His sister seems fun. The sort of person who would get on in Thedas just fine.

She covers his hand with her own for a moment. “Believe me, if you were intruding I would have no problem telling you.” He knows her. She has no qualm with telling people what she thinks. She can be diplomatic about it, and kind, when it’s someone she likes and cares about. But she has no problem with saying it. “But you’re not. I have plenty time to ride out on my own. And I enjoy your company.”

She takes a deep sip of her wine, meeting his gaze. “You would like the Dalish, I think. They’re elves, like me, only they’re nomadic, seeking to preserve and recover the knowledge and treasure of the fallen Elven kingdoms. They’re more in touch with nature than those of us elves who grew up in the city alienages. We do what we can to honour the old ways there but it’s... different, than the Dalish. I met one of their clans in Brecilian forest.”

As she’s talking she’s thinking. The way he talks about the godswood... “There’s a place. In Vasari forest. It won’t be the same as your godswood, I don’t think. I don’t know that anything could be. But maybe it might be close? Somewhere you can go to pray, at least. Away from Gazin. In the quiet of nature.” And then, before she can stop herself, before she can think and shut the hell up, she continues. “Go with me. To Roselake. And then I can show you the copse of trees when we get back. Roselake is supposed to be a mystical place, different for everyone who goes there. But it’s also just... really fucking pretty.” She hasn’t spent a lot of time there, but she’s ridden that way, on those days where she itches with inactivity, too used to travelling, too used to being busy, too used to DOING something.