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.

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The water may be freezing, but it's a relief as soon as they splash into it and Adella pauses for a moment to pull her shirt down from her face and double over, gasping in cleaner air.

Once she feels like she's almost caught her breath she looks up at Cullen, a light frown on her face.

"We-- we should get across the water. It'll be safer. I've never seen natural fire move like that." Even magical fire, it was a hell of a feat to get it to flood an area that quickly.

He can't help but stare at her for a moment or two, as though she might vanish again as quickly as she arrived. As though he's not sure she's real.

He's been feeling that a lot, lately. But he shakes himself a little, and grips her arm.

"Yes," he agrees, tugging her along. "It's not very deep, but we'll need to get back to camp to get warm again." The water is freezing, and he doesn't need her catching cold in addition to everything else.

"Maker's breath," he mutters as the far bank approaches. "How long have you been here?"

"Oh good, you have a camp. That's a relief." Her back is still warm from the fire, but she knows that warmth won't last, especially in this cold. She does shake her arm free from his grip before reclaiming his hand in hers after a moment. She doesn't mind being led, but she's feeling more dragged when he has her by the arm.

"...Several hours?" she replies, after a moment of thinking. "It had to have been early afternoon when I was so ceremoniously dumped. You've been here longer." She can tell, just by looking at him. Not too much longer, maybe, but longer.

The beard growth and general unkemptness of his appearance might be a good indication, it's true. His face takes on a pained expression as they wade through the deepest part of the river, a feeling like pins and needles of ice stabbing through his clothes and into his skin. His teeth begin to chatter.

"I had hoped you wouldn't - nevermind. This arena started - a week ago, or so. Here, here's the bank..." There's a slight rise, and he leans down to help boost her up and onto dry land.

She holds a little tighter to his hand as they cross through the deepest part of the river. Granted they can touch bottom, but it's a steady enough flow that she knows it would be easy to get into trouble if she lost her balance. Her lips are clamped closed but the heat that had soaked through her clothes from the fire was now replaced by the biting numbness from the water.

As soon as Cullen boosts her out of the water she turns back to help him, her hands wrapping around his bicep. He might not ask for it but she's assisting all the same.

"A week? I just... I just saw you." She frowns, shaking her head. "This is beyond any kind of magic I've ever heard of."

"And before that, I was several weeks in the city they call the Capitol. You'll see when we get out of here," Cullen affirms, reluctantly allowing her to assist him out of the water.

Instead of getting up immediately, he sits for a moment, shivering and wet, running a hand through his hair as his mind races. Letting it sink in. She's here. She's here.

"There are others," he says after a moment. "From our world, here."

He feels like he should be something other than numb inside, but at the moment he can't seem to muster anything up. Perhaps he will later.

She crouches down next to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders without really thinking about it. She's cold and wet too, but together they're both generating heat.

"Who else is here?" and why is it that I never noticed them missing? She doesn't ask it, but she wonders. Her mind drifts to the space between Eluvians, and how Morrigan had said not all Eluvians lead back to their realm. She didn't remember going through the Crossroads, but considering whatever these Game Makers did suppressed magic, it wouldn't surprise her if they had access to something that could pull people through from one realm to another.

"Dorian, Cassandra, Cole, Iron Bull, and Josephine," he rattles off immediately, his hands running over her arms soothingly. "And -"

Oh, dear.

"This is - difficult to explain. I don't really understand it myself." He should warn her, though. Let her know what to expect.

She's a little alarmed at how many of their people are here. She doesn't say it aloud, but it's obvious on her face. When he trips over something she frowns a little deeper, shaking her head.

"Just say it. Honestly we're in a place wholly not our own and I can't use magic. If I don't understand it either I'll just add it to the list of things making my brain hurt at present." And the list was really starting to get long.

"There is another Inquisitor here. Well, two, actually," he says in a rush. "A Dalish woman, of the Lavellan clan. And a Maxwell Trevelyan."

He turns his head to look at her, gauging her reaction.

Her expression is fixed for a moment, a slight frown as she stares not quite at him, but the air in front of him. She hadn't expected that.

"What? How is that... What?"

"More or less my reaction as well," Cullen says wryly. "They are, however, genuine. They have the Anchor, just as you do. I don't understand it, either."

She lets go of him with one arm so she can scrub her face with her hand, as if that'll help her press all the jumbled pieces of this situation into place. After a moment she shakes her head, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"All right. I can... accept that, I suppose. The- Maxwell. He doesn't look like he and I could be related, does he? I mean, I know, the name. But that's my brother's name, however it's also a common name in our family I think I've got at least two distant cousins named Maxwell." That would almost make sense, if it were someone somewhere in her family tree. She doesn't know how, but she'll hold onto it, all the same.

"Not... particularly, no," Cullen says with a vague shrug. He certainly sees no resemblance in the man's face, but he's never looked very carefully, either.

"He's at the camp, you can ask him when we get there. Not all of us are still in the arena. Cole, Josephine and Lavellan are - they didn't make it this far," he admits. "Presumably, we'll see them again when we're back in the city."

"So the battle to the death thing is, what, an illusion?" She frowns, shaking her head again. "I didn't get much explanation as to what I'm doing here." She can say with certainty right now, though, that she won't be killing any of her friends.

"What kind of people are we dealing with, here? Do you know?" He'd been here longer, surely he had some kind of read on the situation.

"If it's not death, it's something very close," Cullen admits with a shake of his head. "I was in the previous arena, for a short time. I didn't fight anyone, however. Someone blew the whole thing up. I can't be sure if I died or if I was knocked unconscious and awoke back in the city.

"But Cole most certainly died. I saw it happen."

Supposedly, he would be back in the Capitol by now. Cullen doesn't know if he believes that or not.

"And what kind of people depends on which people you're talking about. The other Tributes seem to be all sorts. Some are decent, kind and helpful. Some are presumably cruel and dangerous. I haven't met all of them, not by a long shot. As for the ones responsible for bringing us all here - Aside from the blood sports, it seems not all that different from Orlais. Those in power are mostly concerned with getting more of it. Those without, want some. They play the Grand Game, though they may not call it that."

"Maker's breath, they've done this more than once?" She looks a little sick for a moment, before squeezing his shoulder. She's upset that she wasn't here for her people, for Cole when he apparently died. Even if he doesn't know her, that changes nothing.

"Well, I'm here now. I guess we'll make the best of things, not like I'm not used to people trying to kill me." Although she was usually better equipped to defend herself.

"Many times, from what I understand," Cullen says darkly. Then he stands - it's far too cold out here for them to sit around like this.

"Come. We need to get to camp. It would be silly to survive a fire only to freeze to death."

She doesn't say anything further about the situation, following him up and wincing a little as her legs protest. Going from trying to outrun a fire to freezing cold water was apparently something her muscles weren't a fan of.

"It would be embarrassing, really. Dying in a fire is much more dignified. I'm happy with the notion of living today, however," she gives him a thin smile, rubbing her hands together to try and get some of the feeling back in her fingers, at least. Her legs will be fine once they start moving.

"I'm not sure either would be particularly dignified," Cullen mutters, reaching for her. They could both, it seems, use a little support. And, frankly, he needs to reassure himself that this isn't some sort of bizarre dream, meant to torture him.

It wouldn't be the first time.

She has no objections to him reaching for her, and she leans into him, sliding her arm across his shoulders.

"I didn't say they would be, just that fire is more dignified," she replies, absently rubbing her hand over his back as they start forward.

"More symbolic appeal, perhaps," he offers, his lips twisting a little. Just because the Maker's Bride had been burned alive, doesn't mean Her Herald needs to suffer the same fate, however.

"You're uninjured I hope?" he offers after a moment. They can make a more thorough assessment at camp, but it might be good to know now, if there's something to be concerned about.

"I feel a little like a marshmellow that's been too close to the flames and then thrown in ice water, but other than that, I'm fine." She offers him a reassuring smile, one hand brushing the back of her neck and wincing a little because the skin is quite warm to the touch.

"How about you? I'm not the one who tripped."

"A bruised shin, a few scrapes, nothing serious," he says by way of reassurance. "Once warm and rested I'm sure we'll be fine."

He glances at her again, taking in her appearance. The clothes are strange, but everything else about her is so achingly familiar. Her touch, her profile in the darkness, even her smell, singed and sooty as they are.

Now that the immediate danger has passed, he's beginning to react a little - his stomach churning. He doesn't want her here. Her magic is gone here. This is a terrible place, and she belongs in Thedas. At Skyhold, safe.

And yet, she's here. In his sight, and alive, and real. He'd been beginning to wonder. Really wonder.

"I have a feeling warm is subjective," she comments, her eyes drifting over the terrain. It's damp right now, but she knows the feeling of a place that can go from habitable to freezing death in a matter of hours. Emprise du Lion almost had nothing on this place.

Unaware of Cullen's train of thought, she's mostly just relieved he's here. The complications and repercussions haven't fully sunk in, and she's never been one who enjoyed shouldering her burdens alone. She may be the Inquisitor, but there's still an entire Inquisition behind her.

"I suppose we could go back to the forest. It was pretty warm there."

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revocation - 2015-02-08 05:37 (UTC) - Expand

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