twistingveil | [CLOSED] And I'm wondering why I still fight in this life,

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[CLOSED] And I'm wondering why I still fight in this life,

[The walk had been an exceptionally lonely one, the silence around her almost suffocating-- for all the danger she and her companions had been ever hurtling towards, none of them had ever lacked for company, for support. Ashelia had always been grateful for that, but now more than ever she was beginning to realize just how much she had depended on her friends and followers, here in this place she did not recognize, a place that seemed like some hollow, estranged echo of the Orlesian countryside. She had been walking for what felt like ages, exhausted from the trip and all that had come before it, leaning heavily on her staff as she made her way towards the little town that she'd been working her way towards since she'd spotted it on the horizon-- but now, upon entering, it became painfully clear that wherever this was, her suspicions were confirmed: it wasn't Orlais at all, or even Ferelden, and so much of what she sees upon arrival defies any kind of logic, entirely foreign even when she considers that she's spent the last three years among humans and dwarves.]

What--

[There are no words to express her confusion, and nobody at hand to hear them even if she were able to articulate exactly how she feels. She grimaces, choking up on her staff to strengthen her grip with her remaining hand, exhaling slowly as she presses forward. Whatever the case, there is no one to help her now, and she can feel her connection to the Fade itself waning-- almost nonexistent, and perhaps that's the most terrifying part of all, well beyond the unfamiliarity of her surroundings and the fact that she has found herself here alone. She had been without her companions before, for all her life until the Temple of Sacred Ashes, but she had never been without the connection that made mages what they were, and that was frightening.

She keeps to herself, doing her best to ignore the looks she draws as she makes her way along the main road, careful not to meet eyes or engage, but she know she can't continue that way forever. Sooner or later, she'll need to stop to rest, maybe find something to drink-- preferably sooner. It's a small shop with a welcoming front porch and a set of bright blue doors that finally gets her to slow her pace, hoping she might find something of aid once she steps inside. Some direction would be nice, and water wouldn't be amiss, either.]

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[ there is a bookshop in the countryside that jeanne frequents because it reminds her of nicholas and perenelle. she's leaving the shop with an armful of books like belle on her way home with a battered copy of arabian nights, a french translation of course, a hot tea is in her other hand that she almost drops when she sees the ragamuffin young woman approaching.

without a second though, she hurries over, concern plain on her expression, even if her words are... less so. ] Mon Dieu! Tu t'es fait mal, mon agneau? Tu n'as bien?

[Jeanne has already proven herself to be more aggressive in her choosing to engage than any of the others Ashe has passed by on her way into town, and for a moment the mage finds herself startled, lips pressed together as Jeanne lets out a flurry of words that she doesn't quite understand. It sounds Orlesian, and yet she can't piece any of it together despite how much time she's spent in Orlais over the last handful of years.]

I'm sorry, I don't speak--

[Well, she's not sure what to call it, but Common will have to do for now. She can only hope that the other woman can understand her, as well, even as she shakes her head.]

French. I'm sorry. [ and she does indeed look apologetic, soft grey eyes flickering over the woman carefully. as she steps closer, ashelia might notice that the gentle, calming scent of lavender surrounds her, clinging to her skin like a perfume.

ashe not knowing the native language to the region she's in gives jeanne an inkling of an idea of what might be going on (wis 19), but she errs on the side of caution and decides not to assume right away. shifting the tea, she holds out her free hand, gesturing to the shop she'd just left. ]

Please, come with me, you look something to drink would not be amiss.

[Life among the Dalish had taught her to be wary of anyone who wasn't clan, but her years with the Inquisition had taught her that strangers could occasionally be kind, defy your expectations, and at the moment she's so overwhelmed by her surroundings and so worn to the bone that she's in no position to turn away aid, even in the interest of caution.]

Yes, that would certainly help-- I'm sorry, this might sound strange, but-- what is this place called?

[She certainly doesn't recognize 'French,' for all its similarities to a language she has come to understand. Her gaze turns to rest on Jeanne's free hand and where it gestures, her only remaining one still clutching her staff and letting it bear the brunt of her weight.]

I'm feeling a bit-- displaced.

[To say the least. A few years ago, she might have woken up in this same situation and panicked, but cooler heads would always prevail, and she'd seen with her own eyes that even in Thedas, the Eluvians could lead to strange places unlike anything she'd ever witnessed before.]

[ jeanne's expression softens further, sympathy rather than pity. pity is useless, as far as she's concerned, so she doesn't bother to expend it as she leads ashe forward. ]

You're in Orléans, in France. [ how unfortunate that orléans and orlais sound very similar. and, for the record, jeanne did not want to settle in orléans but saint germain was so endeared by the idea of living blocks away from a street named after his wife that she gave in, folding like a house of cards. luckily they live on the outskirts of town so jeanne is not often faced with walking down her legacy unless she has decided to visit cathédrale sainte-croix. ] My name is Jeanne.

[ and she's going to hold open the door to the shop, calling inside in her melodic native tongue to the shop keeper. ]

Orléans.

[It does sound quite a bit like Orlais, just one more similarity between the two. Ashe looks at her curiously as she allows Jeanne to lead her onward, keeping up easily; it's been so long since she's spoken to someone who didn't recognize her on sight or at least know her by her title that she'd forgotten how refreshing it felt to meet someone who didn't have all sorts of expectations for her.]

Mine is Ashelia-- Ashe. [She corrects herself, glad to be able to exclude the title of Inquisitor. She pauses, watching as Jeanne calls out to someone in French once more, offering a faint half-smile.] You're very kind, to help a stranger.

My Lord asks that we show kindness to strangers; to be tenderhearted and offer forgiveness before it is sought, as He has shown kindness and forgiveness to His followers. [ it's clear that jeanne's faith is important to her, but just as clear that she's only offering it as an answer, not as a testimony.

she murmurs something else to the shopkeeper as she gestures for ashe to sit at one of the small, unoccupied tables. ] Joseph is getting you some water. May I look at your injury?

Your Lord-- your Creator?

[There's a note of honest curiosity as she asks, used to hearing the word 'lord' in a very different context, but she's quite familiar with her own Creators and what they ask of their people-- or she thought she had been. She's also had time to become accustomed to what followers of the Andrastian Maker believe, and while the Chant of Light seemed to ask similar things of its own followers, it was not often that she saw them put into practice as she does now with Jeanne.]

Thank you, but it's-- [She glances downwards, to where her arm had been before her return from the Crossroads, and she feels a sharp pang in her stomach when for the first time in years, the glow of the Anchor is nowhere to be found, not to mention the hand that bore it.] It's been bandaged and cared for. It's recent, but-- it will heal.

[As much as it could, though the loss would be a very difficult one to overcome.]

If you are sure... [ there's something about her hesitation that makes it seem like she's struggling to abide by ashe's wishes. the call to heal is incredibly strong, even if jeanne's ability is less so. ] I do have some healing abilities gifted to me through my faith -- I do mean my creator. There are many Gods worshiped here in this world, each of them serving their own purpose for their followers. I found myself drawn to my Lord when I was very young and while my faith has wavered on occasion, I do not feel as if His faith in me has done the same.

Yes, I-- I appreciate it, but I'm not certain there's more than can be done. I had only recently left the hands of the Inquisition healers before coming here. I'm-- still not entirely certain what happened.

[The tale is familiar in some ways, though Ashe can't say that she had answered the call with fervor when it was thought she had been chosen by Andraste herself. She had never been entirely convinced, unsure of why any god would call on someone who did not follow them, but in the end, the mark on her now-missing hand had turned out to be ancient magic and not a blessing at all-- a curse, for all the good it did her.

She has not always been so bitter, but recent events have made it difficult to feel otherwise.]

Faith is a difficult thing sometimes. [Her own has been challenged more than she can say, every belief she's ever held dear shattered by harsh truths that had served to turn her world even further on its ear.] Forgive me, but of these gods you say are worshipped here-- what of Mythal? Elgar'nan, Dirthamen?

[She doesn't dare utter the name "Fen'harel," not now, not so soon after learning the truth.]

[ her expression softens. the veil is difficult that way and jeanne often finds herself at a loss for how to comfort the recently displaced because in all her experience and years, she's never experienced that. ]

I do not know of those gods, but I cannot claim to be an expert in all theologies. [ her knowledge: religion check of 32 begs to differ, but humility is one of jeanne's virtues. ] I do not recall them from either the human or Elven pantheons though and they are the ones I know best.

Elven!

[Ashe latches onto that quickly, curious as to what Elven gods Jeanne might recall instead.]

The gods I named are among the Elven Creators-- there are more, but you said you recognize none of them?

[It's beginning to sink in, just how very far from home she's happened to find herself, and her brows knit together briefly as she frowns.]

This really isn't Thedas.

[ sympathy floods her expression, standing to take the glass of water from joseph and set it on the table in front of ashe before she sits in a nearby chair. ]

No, I am afraid it is not.

[Ashe slowly sinks into the seat opposite her as the realization finally begins to sink in. She'd known all along, really, and yet it had been so unbelievable that she'd been unable to really let herself embrace the idea-- she was so much further from home than she'd ever imagined being, even with the Inquisition itself leading her all across Ferelden and Orlais.

Her frown deepens, and she finds herself looking downwards as she reaches for the glass of water, drinking deep as she struggles to regain herself.]

I'm not sure I understand. I don't know how I got here, and yet-- there's no denying that this place is very real.

[It isn't the Fade or an illusion, it just-- is.]

The Veil is a cosmic mystery, I'm afraid. It is particularly weak surrounding this world so for centuries, millenia even, we've found ourselves welcoming refugees from other worlds. [ she's going some where with this story, she just believes that ashe should have as much of the story as she can before it becomes relevant to her in particular. ] For many years it was one single world, but recently the thin spots have opened up to new worlds, including, it seems, to yours.

[ compassion warms her expression, reaching out to touch ashe's shoulder, as she drops the final reality. ] However, the Veil only opens one way.

One way?

[It takes a moment to really sink in, to process, and she frowns as she shakes her head-- the rest of it she was willing to accept, given a little time to come to grips with the situation, but that was one truth she was prepared to deny, however little good it would do her.]

No, that can't be possible. There are ways to move beyond the Veil-- [Thedas' own Veil was breached by mages on a nightly basis.] Magic that allows people to pass between realms. Surely there must be a way back; it doesn't make sense otherwise.

I am sorry, my dear. If there has ever been an instance of someone returning to their home I have not heard of it.

[She can almost feel the color drain from her face as Jeanne confirms the worst.]

But-- I'm needed, back home. If I'm not there--

[The entire Veil will come crashing down, bringing an end to Thedas as they all know it. That cannot be allowed to pass.]

I cannot stay.

[ she doesn't apologize again, knowing the words will be of little use or comfort. condolences are generally not welcome in times such as this, empty platitudes with no real worth when people are grappling with losing their entire lives and having to start over from nothing.

jeanne still cannot decide if it's a blessing or a burden for the people who remember their lives before, remembering everything they've left behind and lost. it's a weak thought, but jeanne would prefer no memories at all. thankfully, she's never had to deal with such a thing. ]

There is no way back, the way is shut.

Shut.

[It doesn't seem possible. It's too firm and final a statement, and she has never been one to accept 'no' for an answer, not when she believes there are other options to be explored, and yet--

This world isn't her own. Things work differently here, and there are others who have had years upon years to investigate this very predicament.]

You're certain, then.

I am, I'm afraid. [ she reaches out to cover ashelia's hand with her own. ] I can help you begin a new life here, if you'd like. If not in Orléans than perhaps somewhere they speak English.

I'd already been forced to begin a new life once before.

[She frowns at the admission, though she appreciates Jeanne's offer-- it's a kind one, to say the very least.]

I never expected I would have to do it again so soon.

I can promise you will have help, if you wish it.

[ maybe not acceptance with those ears, but baby steps. at least orléans is kind. ]

[Perhaps it's fortunate that acceptance has never been something she's had the opportunity to get used to. Dalish Elves were almost as unwanted in Thedas as the Darkspawn themselves.]

Help?

[She pauses, hesitant.]

You would do that? We may as well be strangers.

[ jeanne smiles softly, holding out her hand. ]

Even the best of friends and family start out as strangers at first.

[Ashe, perhaps, should know that better than most, considering how close she'd become with certain members of the Inquisition's Inner Circle-- but she had never learned to expect that sort of kindness from strangers, and so Jeanne's offer still comes as a surprise, albeit a pleasant one.]

I-- if you truly mean to offer such a thing, then I thank you. I will repay the favor in kind, of course.

I need no repayment, [ jeanne says, shaking her head. ] I only ask that if ever you find someone like yourself, you offer them whatever repayment you would have offered me.

[ effectively pay it forward, in her fancy french way. ]

Of course. [She answers immediately, without thought.] As best I can.

[At the moment, she doesn't feel she'll be much help at all, as little as she knows of this world-- but if she really is trapped here, then that will change with time, and even if it didn't, she didn't believe in leaving anyone to struggle on their own.]

Nobody should be left to drift alone.

Précisément. [ she stands up and holds out her hand. ] Come then, Ashelia, let us head back to my home. Francis will have surely noticed I am not home for dinner by now, his forlorn music will lead the way.

[ her husband has a touch of the dramatic and when he decides jeanne has been out to long -- usually in the garden -- he will sit at the piano and play old french love songs until she comes back inside. ]

Edited 2016-07-12 02:38 (UTC)

Francis? [Ashe looks hesitant for a moment as she looks at the offered hand, taking it gingerly after another beat.] Your-- husband?

[She can only venture a guess. He could be some other family member, she supposes, but it seems likely].

Yes. [ the look on her face is pure love, its gross, they need to stop. ] Most people call him Saint-Germain, but he is always my Francis.

[Ashelia knows that look all too well, and the familiarity makes her heart ache, the wounds she carries having been too recently pulled open and rubbed raw all over again.]

You two are very much in love, aren't you. You're very fortunate.

[She smiles warmly, although there's something vaguely wistful about it, only very thinly veiled.]

I am, I know. I couldn't begin to imagine my life without him.

[Ashe thinks, for a moment, that she once knew how that felt, but then the day came when she'd had no choice but to imagine a new life for herself, one all on her own, full of friends and followers but without the person she'd come to trust the most.

She chooses not to voice any of it. There's no reason to begrudge someone else their happiness.]

He won't mind your bringing home strange company?

[Otherworldly company, at that.]

You are not the strangest company I've brought home, I assure you. [ they met through their immortal mutual friend and jeanne's steadfast protector is an irish warrior princess vampire so like. a mage from another world is just tuesday. ]

[Well that's a relief.]

I'll admit, I'm not used to such generosity. My kind is not well-loved, where I'm from.

Shadowkind are not always well-loved here, either, unfortunately. I fear you may find the same prejudice in this world that you left in your own.

I suppose life in Thedas has prepared me for that well.

[Her clan had always been free, being Dalish, but that was not true of all elves.]

My people are often made to be slaves; it's been that way for centuries, since the fall of our civilization.

Thankfully slavery is looked upon with disgust here. There are some people who will never see the truth and light, but they are blessedly few. And Wynn, the people I work with, we champion the cause of Shadowkind. I promise that however long you choose to stay with Francis and I, we will protect you.

[She nods, letting out a low exhale of relief. That is one difference from Thedas she's glad to embrace without question.]

The people you work with-- you serve as champions? What do you do?

[That sounds awfully familiar.]

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[CLOSED] And I'm wondering why I still fight in this life,

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