[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

[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."

[dreadinquisitor]

The humor, such as it was, faltered there, slipping around his mouth.

Lady Trevelyan.

It wasn't the first he'd heard of it, of course, Cullen had mentioned it, but it was another to face it. So close... and so very far.

"...I could certainly say the same," the words came out slowly, as his eyes moved over her face again, taking more care with the details. Did they look alike? He tried to set her against the man he knew in the mirror - against his brother, father, mother. "If you'll forgive me."

[unlikelyherald]

She shook her head, shrugging her shoulders.

"I'm not offended. You... aren't from Ostwick, are you?" If Varric were there he'd be able to tell, but she's not quite as good at accents as he is. She could usually place general locale but getting specific within the Marches? That was a talent.

"I grew up in the Ostwick Circle. First mage in the family for generations, lucky me."

[dreadinquisitor]

"I- I am, yes," he nodded, the strangeness of it all only increasing the more she told him. Two Trevelyans, both of Ostwick, but one a mage -- there was a difference for you. "But not of the circle. I'm no--"

And then it hit him, a sudden flash of clarity.

Lady Trevelyan, a mage, the angry voices.

He looked at her, the dawning realization clear on his face. Voice uncertain as he struggled to accept it.

"You're not alone here... are you?"

[unlikelyherald]

"I had a brother whose name was Maxwell. But he... I don't think he'd look like you. I haven't seen him since he was eleven though," She rambled a little, avoiding the question for a moment. Dorian had very clearly gotten upset when he'd realized that she and Cullen were from the same reality, remembered the same events, remembered each other.

She'd just met Maxwell, she didn't know how he'd react to that news. Of course, he'd already guessed it, so she let out a breath after a beat, nodding her head.

"I'm the Inquisitor that Cullen knows."

[dreadinquisitor]

"I... I have no sisters," he said quietly first. "A brother, Alexander...."

His voice trailed simply trailed off, brow furrowing as his mouth twisted, corners pulling down, eyes slipping away.

He didn't know how to react. He recognized surprise, a twinge that might have been disbelief, but the rest was too jumbled, too tangled and sudden to piece out.

"I didn't think that was possible," he said after a long moment, eyes lifting again to find hers. "For someone to come after...."

[unlikelyherald]

She didn't know Maxwell, and couldn't even begin to guess at what about this situation was bothering him the most. Primarily she has what Dorian was upset about to go off of, but even that, she isn't sure.

"I think with people who are happily manipulating entire worlds of people just for bloodsport, the possibility of two people coming from the same place is not beyond them," she ventured carefully, pressing her lips together as she looked up at her male... counterpart.

"They may not have done it before because it's more interesting if you're all at odds about something. You've started getting along, and... here I am." She wasn't the biggest fan of the idea that she was being intentionally used as a pawn to hurt people, but part of her hoped if she acknowledged it instead of looking for some other answer it would be a situation she could control.

[dreadinquisitor]

If she'd asked him to explain, he likely wouldn't have able to. Not with any sort of coherence. How did one put it into words, that sudden lurch under one's feet as what you thought you knew turned on its head?

It might not have been the best of solutions, but it had been one. One that had made the way forward clear, now... Was his - realm out there? His people? Did they need him, were they-- was he waiting?

Seven arenas for me. Nearly a year now.

It should have been a relief, her appearance, but suddenly Maxwell could feel the distance all the sharper. All the deeper.

He looked back at her.

"Did you come alone? Did you see- anyone else?"

He could guess the answer, but he had to ask.

[unlikelyherald]

"No, I'm sorry," she replied, her features pinched with sympathy. She can imagine how she'd feel if she had been the one in Maxwell's place. Adella was determined not to feel guilty about the situation in that she wasn't the one in control, but she couldn't help but feel the twisting in her chest at so many others upset by her sudden appearance.

"There's always hope, though."

[dreadinquisitor]

He hadn't been aware of his holding his breath until then, the exhale coming at once, heavy and long. He'd known, should have known, but still....

"No, it's alright. I didn't expect that you did; I just needed to ask." His head shook, tiredly, wearily, but he tried to offer her a small smile - trying to push the rest down again.

It wasn't her fault, and the last thing any of them needed was more burden. It was his weight, he would shoulder it.

"And it's probably for the best. It's not as if I would want to subject them to this place, if I could help it."

[unlikelyherald]

"I meant more that... we can get out of here, get back to where we belong." She'd only been here a few hours, but she wasn't suffering delusions about the kind of place it was.

"I'm not looking forward to chasing Corypheus through the Arbor Wilds, but I know it needs to be done, and they interrupted me." Which was just rude, in her opinion. It was going to bother her until she could get back there, finish what she'd been building for the past year.

[dreadinquisitor]

His eyebrows lifted, rising toward his hairline in surprise. He'd been careful to hold back after realizing that not everyone was from the same point in their timelines. He couldn't say it would do harm, precisely, but it had certainly seemed to upset Cassandra.

But he still couldn't help being curious, and he had to fight the urge to say more, pressing his tongue against the back of his teeth.

"I can't say I'm missing my stack of unfinished reports," he replied after a beat, joking carefully. "But I suppose it is nice to know something will be waiting for me."

[unlikelyherald]

"It's usually faster if you pitch half of them out the window," Adella replies, a teasing tone touching her voice. She didn't actually throw her reports away, but she'd thought about it more than once, and they often got put off for more interesting things.

"I don't know if it helps, but Cullen's been here for weeks. The last time I remember seeing him, before I woke up here, was very shortly before. I have a feeling that if-when you return, your life will be the way you remember it." Or she hopes. If not, she can't imagine what panic Leliana and Josephine are dealing with, suddenly without their commander and Inquisitor.

[dreadinquisitor]

He chuckled lowly, his head bobbing in a small nod, thinking of the nights he'd been tempted to just pitch the lot into the fire -- particularly those out of Orlais, where it seemed they had parchment to spare for the rolls and rolls they went on.

Then he sobered, the curl of his lips slipping away as she went on.

"None of it makes sense. I've talked to others, outside our circle--" ours, yes, that felt appropriate, "--they've been here for so long. I don't know how it's possible." He paused, lips parted on a thought he couldn't quite put into words, then shook his head. Hands turned up in a helpless sort of gesture. "All I know for certain is that I'm here now."

[unlikelyherald]

"That seems the best way of addressing it," she replied, smiling a little. For the moment, there is obviously nothing they can do from here, and even talking about it she has a feeling isn't a smart idea.

"Make the best of the situation we're in? I have a feeling we're both familiar with that." She knew that their histories may be different, but the way they became the Inquisitor, she's fairly certain that's the same.

[dreadinquisitor]

"...And make it up as we go?" he added after a beat, lifting an eyebrow. "That sounds familiar."

If nothing else, that was something.

[unlikelyherald]

Her smile widened and she nodded her head.

"Exactly. I think we can probably work together, Lord Trevelyan." What she wouldn't have given to have someone else in the same situation she was in when she was the Inquisitor. It could be beneficial, here.

[dreadinquisitor]

He hadn't given it much thought until that moment. Lavellan and he hadn't had much chance to speak before the arena and then--

But he felt it then, something small. Something like a relief.

That burden could be shared.

"Maxwell," he said, with a gentle smile. "Lord Trevelyan makes me think my father's standing behind me."

[unlikelyherald]

She let out a laugh, nodding her head.

"Maxwell, then." Part of her wanted to ask him about his father, his family. She barely knew hers, and she wondered if their families were similar only in name and geographical location. Another time, perhaps. "I prefer Adella, for similar reasons."

[dreadinquisitor]

"Adella," he echoed with a nod of his own, smile widening slightly.

It was bound to be awkward between them - strange to say the least, especially in here in the very beginning, but it wasn't hard to say he already liked her.

Could see how the others could come to do so.

"I'll admit, it is a little nice to hear it besides, after all that Inquisitor and Your Worship, business," he joked lightly. "I think I might have forgotten it eventually."

[unlikelyherald]

"I know exactly what you mean," Adella laughed, a little more earnestly. She turned so she was more fully facing Maxwell, her arms resting on her legs.

"I had to keep reminding people they were allowed to use my first name when we were alone. Even then, it was Inquisitor more often than not," it's a strange but also liberating realization that Maxwell was one of the few people who could truly understand what she has been going through as the Herald. People may commiserate, but few can comprehend the full weight of being hailed as one of the Maker's chosen.

[dreadinquisitor]

That earned her a laugh in return, even as a little pang of sadness bounced against the backs of his ribs.

Even when they'd been alone together, it had been Inquisitor as often as it had been his name... at least before it become amatus.

Though he suspected it was a much teasing as anything.

Moving closer, he brushed snow from one of the makeshift seats they'd made and join her by the fire.

"The worst was when someone didn't know," he added, leaning his elbows on his knees. "For a moment, I was just another person until someone let the Herald out of the bag."

[unlikelyherald]

"People are always so nice when they realize you're the Herald. I'd get about two seconds of judgemental ass because of the staff on my back, and then 'Oh wait, you're her!'" she sighs, shaking her head. "You might not have gotten that, but after a while it was kind of nice. I have terrible ideas, people need to stop just going along with them."

She looks at him for a moment, before tilting her head, curiosity getting the best of her. "So, I know why I was at the Conclave. Why were you?"