[open] winter's light feels different on my skin

[unlikelyherald]

Who| Adella and hopefully no one who wants to kill her
What| Arrival in the Arena
Where| the pine forest, heading east.
When| late week 1, midday.
Warnings/Notes|


Adella would have liked a minute to gather her bearings, before she was shoved though the tube into the Arena. She, of course, wasn't afforded that. What information she was given and expected to run with she'd have to sort through, later. Instinct told her to run, as soon as she was given the chance to, and she did, heading for the forest.

The cold in the Arena felt familiar, at least. Skyhold was in a good location, it could get almost warm during the day, but it was a drafty old castle in the middle of a mountain range. The cold in the Arena was nothing she wasn't used to, although she would have liked her own clothes instead of what they'd provided her with.

She slowed to a walk after her sprint into the woods, looking around for any kind of advantage she could grab a hold of. Being unarmed and acutely aware that she's cut off from her magic worries her. It's been a long time since she felt like she was a caged animal, but that feeling creeps into the back of her mind as she looks around, her head jerking at every sound. One thing struck home, at least. There's people here, and supposedly they want to kill her.

Comments

[revocation]

Cullen tends to take the late watch shifts. He brooks no argument with it - he hates trying to sleep at night, especially in such close proximity to others, when there is every likelihood he'll wake screaming from a nightmare if he manages to fall asleep at all.

No, it's better to be productive than to cause disturbances for others.

He crosses the river - they're near enough to it that he feels secure in leaving them for an hour or two while he attempts a bit of a hunt. It's cold, but he's used to that - he's Fereldan, after all, and Skyhold is no tropical paradise. It's been raining, but it stops not long after he sets out, the wind picking up a bit and -

He smells it. Ash. Burning. Fire. He smells it before he sees it, even before the orange glow approaches. He would've thought the trees were wet enough to prevent such a thing, but apparently not. He turns heel and darts back toward the river - if he can cross it, he should be fine. The river should stop it if nothing else does. But the fire is moving fast, and the heat and the strange light from it makes seeing difficult, especially as ash starts to fall in his eyes, making them water, getting caught in his throat.

He stumbles, and spots a figure against the orange glow. "Here!" He calls. "The river is this way!"

[unlikelyherald]

Once the rain started, Adella had hunkered down under a tree that had afforded her some vague protection from the rain. She'd gone through several theories as to why she was here and why this was happening, but never really settled on one she liked.

When the clap of thunder following the lightning strike sounds like it's nearly on top of her, she jumps up, noticing the fire almost as it starts. She frowns for a moment, watching it, thinking it's surely too wet for it to spread, but spread it does, and quickly. She's had enough training with fire and magic to know that if it starts moving towards you, you go in the other direction.

She manages to stay ahead of the flame, but not the smoke and ash, and pulls the neck of her outfit up over her nose, attempting to breathe through it. At least she wasn't cold, anymore. When she hears someone calling out to her, she thinks her mind must be playing tricks on her, because it sounds for a moment like Cullen. She waves her arms at the man in the distance, running towards him.

"It's magic fire, run!"

[revocation]

Her voice is so familiar it shoots through him like a thunderclap all its own - but there's no time to be surprised, no time to pull her aside and ask her name, and he can't see her clearly anyway. It could very well be his overactive imagination, hearing things.

Either way, the fire approaches, and there isn't time to think about it, or stop and have a chat. He waves her forward, and starts off at a sprint, as fast as his legs can take him. It's not that far - he hasn't strayed too far into the forest, wanting to keep near the river and their encampment. A good thing, because he's built for endurance not speed. He would never outrun this blaze were he deeper in the forest.

"This way!" he calls again, choking on it, but at least his sense of direction is good - he knows where he's going, he doesn't necessarily have to see his surroundings clearly to find his way back. Though he thinks he can see the glimmer of the river ahead, in the moonlight. Maker's breath. He's not at all surprised they're unleashing magic on them, in this place where the likes of Dorian is without.

[unlikelyherald]

She's exhausted, but stopping really isn't an option. She can feel the heat of the fire at her back, and it keeps her moving, following after the man. It's entirely possible she's being led into a trap, but right now she'd rather die by someone stabbing her than by fire.

It's lucky that she's spent nearly a year running all over Thedas, otherwise she likely would have tapped out by now. Squinting through the smoke she thinks she can see the river past the trees and she pushes her legs a little harder, ignoring the burning in her lungs.

[revocation]

Even if he was the sort to lure someone into a trap, this would hardly be the time or the place - they're both running for their lives. Alliances can be worked out once they've both made it to safety.

The heat is blazing, the fire must be moving incredibly fast through the trees. But there it is - the safety of the river, it's definitely there, almost within reach -

He stumbles again, nearly falling to his knees as he trips on some underbrush, a curse muttered under his breath as he scrambles to get back up.

[tevintage]

Dorian was on watch, wrapped up in his newly delivered parka, his make shift staff gripped in hand, the pocket knife strapped to the end of it. It was a poor replacement, but at least he could pretend to defend himself, this way. He rubbed his arms, eyes narrowed at the smoke on the horizon, practically glaring at it.

He remembered dying in flame, last time.

Oh, he remembered.

Thus it was that he had his eyes firmly trained on the treeline when two figures appeared, and he was already gripping his staff into a protective stance before he recognized the first of them, and relaxed.

"And here I thought you might have turned into a rather well done roast," Dorian quipped as he leaned back again. "Glad to see I was wrong. You've even picked up a straggler," He added, quirking an eyebrow at the woman with him.

[revocation]

It's her. Maker, it's her. Cullen wants to sob - in relief, perhaps, or despair - he can't quite be sure which. Relief that she's alive, and that he somehow managed to find her in the arena. Despair that she's here, after hoping and praying that she wouldn't be brought.

There's ash and soot in her hair, streaking her face, but the chilly air is a welcome respite from the heat of the raging inferno that is still going on the other side of the river. His arm is around her middle, to help her navigate the terrain, and possibly also to reassure himself of her presence, when Dorian's voice calls out.

"She is no straggler," Cullen says around a cough. Though he knows not to expect anyone else to recognize her, it's still strange. "This is Lady Trevelyan."

[unlikelyherald]

Adella is grateful for the arm around her waist as after her run through the forest she feels ready to fall over, but she can tell it's almost more for his benefit than hers. She's not about to shake him off, whatever the reason.

"I'll answer to Adella a little more readily than Lady Trevelyan," she adds, managing to give Dorian a smile. She'd gotten the bare bones that people weren't going to know who she is, but seeing clearly that Dorian didn't recognize her was a little painful.

[tevintage]

He frowned, clearly not understanding for a moment, before it dawned on him.

"Ah- Trevelyan. Yes, of course. Forgive me, Inquisitor," Because that is entirely what he assumed her to be, "but I'm sure Cullen has already explained a bit about our- predicament. We have one of your kinsmen here as well, interestingly enough."

He hadn't, of course, realized which Inquisitor it was - or rather who's.

He stepped towards them. "Are you hurt? No magic, I'm afraid, but we have some limited supplies."

After the Inquisitor's in camp?

[alwaysshielded]

Cassandra had not spent a great deal of time actually in the make-shift camp they had pulled together. Enough to to get some sleep each day, to check which members of the Inquisition were alive, to tend to her limited gear, and eat. She managed to dwell on little more than the faces which were missing whenever in camp, however. Josephine, Cole, an Inquisitor. From all reports, they were likely a very relatively 'safe' in the Capitol, yet she was still far more at peace when scouting or hunting in the wilderness. And so she spent as little time possible doing anything else.

The Seeker was entering camp from once such scouting trip, a bone-deep weariness forcing her return, when she spotted the unfamiliar head of hair at the fire. There were no signs of struggle, making the woman being an invader unlikely. Some tribute she had not yet met, then. One at least one member of their little group had considered trustworthy. But Cassandra would form her own opinion. She straightened her back despite her exhaustion, one hand resting lightly on sharpened-stone knife tucked into her makeshift belt, and approached the figure.

"Greetings."

[unlikelyherald]

Adella was starting to feel a little less frozen although her socks were still damp from the river. She sat with her toes stretched out towards the fire, as close as she dared to get them, when Cassandra approached. She looked up at the Seeker, a smirk that turned into a surprised look as soon as she realized that Cassandra didn't recognize her.

"Hello Cassandra," she started, not really sure how to continue. It isn't every day that someone has to introduce themselves to people that they've known for months. "I'm guessing you don't know me. My name is Adella Trevelyan, I'm the- well, I guess an Inquisitor." She held her left hand up to shake, turning it so that the scar left by the mark is clearly visible, even if the magic is absent.

[alwaysshielded]

"Another Trevelyan. I see. Perhaps it's not so surprising they've a taste for nobility."

It's said to herself as much as the woman before her, the ways of the Capitol continuing to be something to evaluate. One Inquisitor dead, then another introduced. Done quickly on purpose, before any of them can fully find their feet under one banner in the arena, perhaps? But, if nothing else, she has slowly come to terms with the idea these were, in fact, actual Inquisitors and not some product of their captors. But Cassandra still takes her time, giving the woman an evaluating look as she takes her hand. Not near as hostile as the first time they had met in Haven, but far from any trusting gaze Adella may have grown accustomed to.

"I trust you have spoken with the others."

[unlikelyherald]

"I have. Cullen is the one who found me... running from the fire," she nodded in the direction of the pillar of smoke still visible in the distance. "He and I-- We're from the same timeline." She knew if she didn't bring it up immediately it'd come up sooner or later, hot button issue that it seemed to be.

"Which seems to be a first."

Also after

[dreadinquisitor]

He hadn't heard everything, the words muffled by distance and lightly falling snow, but the tone had been clear. Particularly toward the end, hard and tight - a careful argument being had, just out of earshot. He shifted on the frozen ground, turning toward it...

Inquisitor, makes sense, no memory....

He blinked in the dark, piecing it together, as the voices crescendoing and quieting, footsteps crunching away.

Well. It wasn't like they hadn't known it wasn't possible. There were already two of them.

He gave it a few moments more, as long as he dared given the precarious position of the arena, then slowly rose, chilled muscles and joints protesting despite his new coat.

He wasn't quite certain how to introduce himself when he approached, but a polite dip of his head seemed safe enough. "Inquisitor, I take it."

[unlikelyherald]

Knowing how people tend to eavesdrop at campsites, it actually surprised Adella a little that it took as long as it did for someone to "wake up." She was feeling guilty that her presence was obviously upsetting Dorian, and staring at the fire when Maxwell approached. She looked up at him, a light frown crossing her face as she took his appearance in. He obviously wasn't anyone she knew. At home, that never meant much. Here, however, and with the information she had from Cullen...

"I could say the same to you. Maxwell Trevelyan, yes?"

[dreadinquisitor]

"My reputation precedes me, I see." The joke was half-hearted, the twist of his mouth more wry than anything, but he was willing to try. The strageness of it all be damned. "Hopefully good things."

[unlikelyherald]

"Mostly just your name, and the fact that you're a he," Adella replied, a slight smile touching her own lips. "It would seem that we're related-- In name, at the very least. My name is Adella Trevelyan." She has to wonder if an version of him existed in her own realm, though she can tell he isn't one of her brothers. Even though she hadn't seen them since they were all children, she doubted any of them grew up to look quite like the man here, now.

"You're a little different from what I was expecting, though."

[tevintage]

It was a few hours later, after the sun had set and the cold had really started up, that Dorian finally wandered back to camp. Still wearing the parka that Maxwell had given him, he clutched it tightly around him, swearing under his breath as the wind whipped up around him. He was happy to find the fire still lit, and paused in front of it, palms out, before he noticed he wasn't alone.

"... I owe you an apology," He said after a moment, before turning towards her, face drawn. "That was... Not the smoothest introduction I've ever made. I'm sorry."

[unlikelyherald]

Adella hadn't moved from the fire, partly because people kept coming and going. Sleeping might be an option, once she wasn't so riled up by the day's events. Her socks and boots have finally dried by the time Dorian returned, and she had been considering going to look for him, so he got a bit of a surprised look when he reappeared.

His apology made her smile, despite the fact that she was feeling guilty in and of itself.

"Well, lucky for you I know another version of you who made a much better first impression." She tilted her head playfully, her smile widening briefly. "I admittedly could have been more charming. We can start over, if you'd like."

[tevintage]

A small smile came to his lips, despite himself.

"Oh, no need. If I've made an ass of myself once, at least you've already seen the worst," He pointed out wryly, before taking a seat in front of the fire.

"I-- If it is any sort of defense, my temper was entirely of my own making, and not yours." He tilted his head to look over at her. "... Or Cullen's. It was unfair to take it out upon either of you, and I am sorry for it."

Dorian might have a short fuse, but he believed in both timely and thorough apologies, and he was going to get through his even if she tried to laugh it off. "I am-- glad. That you aren't alone, here. I know it has been... difficult, for the others."

[unlikelyherald]

"I understand, don't worry," she replied, her smile softening a little. She knew it wasn't exactly personal, which helped. She felt guilty if only because she hated seeing those she considered her friends in pain. Even if technically they'd only just met.

"I don't think we're alone, though. I have Cullen, which is... good. But even if I didn't, the rest of you are still here. Even if we don't remember things in just the right way, we have that common history within the Inquisition at least, don't we?" She had obviously been thinking about this since Dorian left, and in her subsequent conversations with the others when they had approached her.

"We also seem to have this whole mess in common now, as well. I've always preferred to find friends in the situation I'm in. Granted that may be because most of my friends from the Circle are now dead."

Inquisition camp, after

[meravas]

Bull came lumbering into the camp some time after everything had settled from doing a few scouting rounds, making sure they weren't in any immediate danger, dressed in a parka that fit him, surprisingly, while his hat didn't, stretched over his head with the appropriate holes for his horns to poke through, one side cut down to the bottom. He carried a 7-inch serrated knife in hand, a scarf pulled up over his mouth.

Something felt off. For one, there was someone else now in the camp that he didn't recognize, just like the time at the meeting where Cassandra had invited the woman named Shepard. But they were still missing Josephine, Cole, and the other Inquisitor. Who knew when they would return and if they would.

Snow crunched under his steps as he reached up to pull the scarf down, letting out a puff of foggy breath, trying to take a headcount of who else was around that he could see.

[unlikelyherald]

Bull will find that everyone is in their place, aside from those who had been missing before Adella's arrival. When she heard the snow crush she turned quickly, although when she realized who was behind her she instantly relaxed. She knew he wouldn't recognize her, but he's a fond sight.

"Well if it isn't the Iron Bull. Cullen mentioned you were here."

[meravas]

It was a relief to see that his headcount came out to the same, minus her, and that everyone was there. Safe and sound. He looked down at the newcomer then as she spoke up.

"The one and only. And did he?" Of course he would. "Funny, he forgot to mention you. I swear, every hour we're adopting more and more people into our camp. So, what am I calling you?"

[unlikelyherald]

"He may have mentioned me, I just wasn't here before," she replies a little wryly, before inclining her head. "My name is Adella Trevelyan. I'm an Inquisitor." Introducing herself in that way feels alien, because the idea that there's more than one of her is so unusual.

"If there's anything else you want to know, by all means ask."