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

"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?"

Dorian is more than happy to let the matter drop completely, turning his attention to the fire, poking at it with the same sort of annoyed but distracted mood that he was addressing everything else.

"Near enough to not make a difference," He admitted. "I found him and Cole after wandering around for - I have no idea. Several days, at least."

Cullen frowns a little at her refusal, his eyes sweeping over her with a concerned sort of cast, but he doesn't remark on it - just settles the parka back over his own shoulders.

Maker, but he misses his own clothes.

"Dorian, Cole and I arrived at about the same time," he affirms after a moment. "Then the others began arriving."

She notices the look Cullen is giving her and without remarking on it or even paying it much thought she reaches out to take his hand. Sure she's cold, but she's not going to admit that.

"I wonder if there's a pattern, a reason to how they're pulling people." It's more a curiosity than anything. One of her favorite things about the Circle was the limitless educational opportunities. This is a mystery to be solved, in more ways than one.

It was impossible to miss, even though his attention apparently entirely on the fire. It was an innocent enough motion, of course. Something that he wouldn't have even thought about twice, had it been his Inquisitor.

Had it been his hand that was being reached for.

But it wasn't.

A very hot, very ugly feeling welled in his chest and he coughed to clear his throat, tossing the stick into the fire.

"Abject cruelty?" He suggested with a dark and pointed tone. "You should probably meet the rest," He said, pulling away from the fire and walking over to pick up the empty tin that Jason had so helpfully told him to use to collect water with. "I'll take supply run duty."

The hand in his takes him a little by surprise - frankly, the situation is so awkward all around that he isn't sure what to do with himself. But he can't deny her anything, and the familiarity of it helps warm him as much as the fire.

Dorian is gone before he can even give the man his parka back.

"Well, that was pleasant," he mutters. He can't blame him. Cullen sighs and rubs at the back of his neck with his free hand. "Hopefully he won't catch cold out there..."

Adella frowns after Dorian, concern evident on her face. She hadn't been trying to upset him, but clearly she had. Normally if she pissed Dorian off he'd tell her why.

This new reality is going to take some getting used to. She shakes her head, looking over at Cullen.

"I think the novelty of this place is starting to wear off." She sighs, looking up in the direction Dorian had retreated, again. "If he's gone too long someone needs to go after him."

"I know how you feel," Cullen mutters darkly. "No doubt this has been engineered by the ones bringing us here. This is all entertainment to them."

"I told you we should've gone back into the forest," she replies, her hand absently touching the back of her neck again. "It would've been much less awkward." She glances away from Cullen, shaking her head.

"And maybe at least half as entertaining as this mess."

"He'll be fine," Cullen says quietly, giving the fire another poke. "He's in love with the Inquisitor he knows, I think. Why he's so determined for the man to be dead is beyond me, but -" An eloquent shrug of his shoulders.

She raises her eyebrows at that, looking back at Cullen again. "Oh. I... suppose that would do it, then." Suddenly she's very aware of her hand in his and she pulls it away, rubbing both her hands over her face.

"Maker's breath, and here we are. He's miserable and I'm groping you in public." She's aware that's an overly dramatic way of putting it, but she also knows-knew Dorian. He's nothing if not theatrical. "He's probably trying to bury it. It's easier to pretend someone's dead, than think they're... somewhere you can't reach, I suppose?"

"You're not groping me," he points out with a snort.

But she has a point - about Dorian, anyway. At this point, Cullen doesn't think there's anything he could say to make things better, so he just shrugs again. "You know him better than I do," he points out. "I assume he just needs time and space to work through it."

She's about to object that no she doesn't know him, not really. This Dorian and her Dorian could be very different people, motivationally speaking. But Cullen's been here longer, she imagines if he noticed a difference, he would have said something. She stares into the fire, shifting again and pulling her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and sighing.

"Most likely. Even if he needs something else, I'm clearly not the one who should be talking to him."

"Nor I," Cullen says with a sigh. "I can't really imagine what he's going through."

If Dorian's Inquisitor had shown up, if their positions were reversed? Cullen isn't above admitting that he would feel a twinge of jealousy, at the very least.

He's no stranger to guilt, even over things he has no control over.

"Nothing good, I'm sure." She sighs again, turning her head and resting her cheek against her knees, looking over at Cullen. After a moment she reaches out to rest her hand on his arm.

"You should get some rest. You look like you haven't been sleeping."

She can always tell. The others, if they notice, mostly don't point it out. Well, Cassandra would, if she thought he was putting himself in danger, but mostly they don't talk about it.

She does, though. And his mouth twists a little, not at her, but at the truth of it.

"I don't care to disturb the others," he mutters after a moment. Bad enough they're all stuck in this terrible place, huddling in a cave - he doesn't need to be waking them all with his nightmares, too.

"I don't think they'll mind as much as you think. Everyone has nightmares." Still, she understands what he's saying, and gives his arm a gentle squeeze. "Sleep nearby and I'll wake you up if you start dreaming. You usually mumble before you start making any real noise."

She'd volunteer to curl up with him, in different circumstances. As it is, despite her run through the forest she's feeling very awake, and she likely wouldn't be able to sleep even if she tried. Too much running through her mind to allow it.

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

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