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

Entry tags:

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

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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.

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."

Cullen watches the exchange carefully, tired as he is, his hand never leaving her waist, though his grip loosens a little. If she wanted to pull away, she could.

"We need to get warm," he says flatly. "Tell me you still have the fire going?"

Spare clothes are in limited supply, otherwise he would be insisting that she change.

"He's filled me in a little, yes," she replies, although she's still processing it. She doesn't leave Cullen's side, her hand absently lifting to cover his on her side, silently gesturing that she isn't going anywhere.

"I did figure out the no magic on my own. Fortunately before I tried to put out the suspiciously fast-burning forest fire."

"... I'm not sure if the forest fire has managed to convince you of otherwise, but it is freezing. Of course I still have the fire going."

He stepped back, motioning behind him as he quickly glanced over them. They were certainly... cozy.

"A mage, then?" Dorian asked, genuinely interested, though the gears were clicking into place. Wasn't Cullen's Inquisitor a mage...? He shot a questioning glance at the man, but didn't quite voice it aloud, yet. "How refreshing."

Cullen relaxes an ounce or two at the touches - and at Dorian's tone, quite frankly, which he's used to. Adella showing up, and their daring escape, has really thrown him for a loop, and he has to remind himself that he doesn't need to be defensive of her to Dorian, of all people.

"Yes, you're no longer alone in that," he hears himself say wryly, leading her with care to the fire. "What have we got for food?"

"As much good as it does, where they've somehow cut our connection to the Fade," Adella adds in, a little bitterly. She doesn't like being disconnected from her magic.

Allowing Cullen to lead her to the fire she does break away from him long enough to sit down so she can pull off the soaked boots and socks to lay them out. She's trudged through enough freezing cold rivers to know that it'll take them longer to dry and leave her colder longer if she leaves them on.

"So I take it that the... Inquisitor from your realm isn't a mage, Dorian?"

"I just received some supplies from Jason," Dorian said, tossing Cullen the small silver sphere. "With a snarky note, no doubt."

He considered, for the briefest of seconds, and then took off his parka to offer it to Cullen, before stepping over to Adella.

"It's almost as strange when they allow a connection to something else instead, I assure you," He murmured, thinking of his first arena. To her question, though, he shook his head. "Thank the maker, no. A Dalish bowman, actually. Though 'realm' is an interesting way of putting it," He said mildly, looking over at Cullen. "I take it you didn't explain my theory, then."

"Thank you," Cullen says, cracking open the supplies and digging through them for food for the two of them. He would've preferred the parka go to Adella, but it's Dorian's to give, not his.

"I didn't explain your theory because it's clearly incorrect," he mutters darkly. "And besides, we were trying to get back here as fast as possible."

Adella raises her eyebrows at the exchange between Dorian and Cullen, before looking over at the other mage, and tilting her head to the side.

"What's your theory, then?" Because even if Cullen thinks it's wrong, she'd still like to hear it.

"Just because you don't wish be believe it is correct doesn't mean it--" But there it was. The truth that he had somehow been trying so hard to avoid, even as it had been (quite literally) staring him in the face.

He paled slightly, before taking a harder look at Adella.

There was one very easy thing that would prove his entire theory wrong. One simple thing, that he had, until not, thought impossible.

"... You're his, aren't you." It wasn't exactly a question.

You're his. What a statement. Cullen's lips twist a little at it - he knows what Dorian means, really, he just - You're his.

"Adella belongs to no one but herself," he mutters, almost reproachfully. "She is - the Inquisitor I know, however, yes."

He's not petty enough to actually say I told you so, but... almost.

Again she feels like she's missing something, although she appreciates that Cullen speaks up so she doesn't have to pretend to be offended.

"I take it the other Inquisitors here aren't ones anyone is familiar with, then?" Which is, again, weird. All the strange things, she's going to need to get parchment and start writing them down.

It is a rare thing, when Dorian Pavus is speechless. He is generally blessed with a quick tongue and a quicker wit, but that doesn't quite extend so far as meeting someone that he was absolutely certain was dead.

His eyes dart away from hers, his brows furrowing.

"... No. No, they were not," Dorian said, a sudden, painful, lurching motion in his gut. He tried to cover it up within seconds, offering a bemused half smile that he really didn't feel, and didn't quite manage to hide how very sick to his stomach he felt. "Well, there goes that theory, indeed. I can hardly argue against such ample evidence."

Cullen can sense something of the other man's distress. It doesn't seem logical to him, though, anymore than it was logical to him that he should be so determined for his own Inquisitor to be dead.

And now upset at the prospect that he might be alive?

"Dorian suggested time magic was at work," he finally explains to the woman next to him. "That, being from different timelines, different points in the timeline, the others were all snuffed out."

She notices the shift in Dorian's mood as well. Even if she's a stranger to this Dorian, in their reality, they had gotten to be quite good friends. She nods slowly at Cullen's explanation. She'd seen time magic before, it was a sound enough theory.

"I have to admit I'm glad you're wrong, Dorian. I don't really relish the idea of being snuffed out by magical circumstance."

"Not so much snuffed as... Not happening to be in the right place at the right time," He replies, but his mind is already elsewhere. "It was the only theory that made any sense at the time." It certainly made none now.

How on earth was she here?

And why was Cullen the one to be reunited with his Inquisitor, while Dorian-

He shoved that particular feeling down incredibly hard.

"I'll have to think of something else," He finished lamely.

"I'm no philosopher," Cullen says dryly, "but who's to say all these different worlds don't simply exist alongside one another? It seems the simplest explanation to me, given... everything."

Frankly, he's not thinking too hard about why she's suddenly here. No doubt it will trouble him, before too long. Right now, however, he's still in a state of shock, to some extent. It hasn't fully sunk in.

"When Morrigan showed me what her eluvian is capable of, she told me that the space it leads to has other mirrors that lead to places... not our world. I think it could stand to reason that they're similar worlds, that exist alongside each other." That was the theory she was clinging the strongest to, because while it only made so much sense, it seemed the most logical to her.

"It is strange they would choose to pull so many of us from similar worlds, but different enough that we don't all have the same... well, me." Which she thinks is a pity, but she's not going to say that out loud.

"Perhaps they think it's more dramatic this way," Dorian said hollowly, remembering an echo of a conversation.

He was thankful for the rational discussion, even if he was having difficulty concentrating on it fully. Rational discussions were good. Talking about anything aside from the massive wave of grief and nausea that had suddenly swept over him was good.

There was a long pause, his brow furrowed. "... Perhaps there is some truth in what that man told me, after all," He murmured lowly. "He said that apparently we can return home. If we die. That some of the other tributes have done so, only to be brought here again."

Cullen gives Dorian a hard look. "That's what I've been trying to say," he mutters darkly. "They can bring us here, naturally it follows that there must be a way to reverse the process and get back to where - and when - we came from."

Why is the man so upset by this? It's hope. Hope that they can return to their rightful places, to the people they care about.

"It would make sense," she agrees, although she can tell it's still upsetting Dorian, somehow. "It would also explain how... Cullen could have been here for weeks and I never noticed he was missing." Which of course meant that there very well could be some time magic in play as well, which means Dorian isn't entirely wrong.

"I doubt they'd tell us if we just asked them nicely what they were doing?"

Dorian flashes a glare back at Cullen when the man gives him that look. He had admitted that he was wrong, he really didn't need it rubbed in his face.

"Whatever it is, it isn't only us they can do it to. They call others from various different points of history in their worlds, as well. And just because we can go back, I'd rather not have to die to do it. Exactly what guarantee do we have that everyone who perishes here is sent home? From what I was told, even when we do, we don't retain any memory of this place."

"I never said we should die to do it," Cullen points out. "But doors don't open only one way. I intend to seek out a solution, regardless of what you think."

As far as he's concerned, that's the end of the discussion. He's made his intentions clear. He can't do much from in here, but once back in the city, well.

He looks at Adella, concern writ plainly on his features, and he offers her Dorian's parka. He doesn't need it as much as she.

"There isn't much we can do from here, anyway," she adds, pulling her legs up under her. When Cullen offers the parka to her she frowns at him, shaking her head. "I was closer to the rolling inferno than you were, I'm comfortable." The back of her neck where her skin had been exposed was starting to feel a little sunburned, in truth. Her legs were cold, but once her socks dried off that would be remedied.

"Dorian, have you been here as long as Cullen?"

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