family matters

Siobhan was glad her patron, Goodwin, did not want to stay in the Free Marches when the heat hit, instead, the two of them had gone to the estate that belonged to an old friend of his in Ferelden. You'd wanted to travel there for some time as it was, it had been too long since you'd seen Morrigan, and you missed her dearly. Ferelden was in no way as hot as it had seemed in the city-state. It was still outrageously warm for the season which wasn't too awful as she absolutely abhorred being cold and the amount of clothes she often would have to wear to make up for the warmth was always annoying and hid some of her best assets.

Her patron seemed to enjoy seeing her in the thin linen and silk dresses she’d had made and she caught his friend eying her a few times. Goodwin took it in good humor, of course. The man wasn’t possessive, he was too old for that. Her companionship with him was more the fact that he liked the status having a pretty young thing like her on his arm gave him. Sure there were… requirements to her being his travel companion but she’d been aware of that from the beginning. Warming his bed and acting like a covert bodyguard wasn’t too horrible of a task. She got whatever she wanted from him otherwise and he even let her have her privacy when she needed it, making sure wherever they traveled there was a private room for her as well. 

Usually, her rooms weren’t too far from Goodwin’s but as this had been short notice she had a bit of a walk from where he’d passed out in his own private rooms. The air was heavy with the heat as she moved through the hall, walking past the library of their host… and seeing a light coming from under the door. The estate was asleep as far as she could tell and it seemed odd that anyone would be up this late. Curious and secretly armed she moved into the rooms, inhaling the smell of books as she looked around. 

She snuck quietly, sticking to the shadows, the softness of her soft lace lined chemise, helping her silently move through the room, until she got to the source of the light. 

Her breath hitched in her throat when she saw who was standing there, flipping through the pages of one of the books. It was a face she’d only seen in charcoal on parchment, drawn over and over again by her mother. 

”I found him in my father’s library, secreting away some books. He was the most handsome, charming man I had ever met. He’ll come back for us. He will.”

It had been bullshit. It was likely the man standing in front of her in this full circle moment had no clue who she was or what she looked like. She could come up behind him in the dark and put her blade between his ribs, but that wouldn’t be enough. No, she needed him to know about her, about what happened to her mother. She didn’t need him to care, but she needed him to know. 

What are you doing in here!? her voice sounded scared and nervous, but she was far from it, You’re not supposed to be here…

[font=Arial, serif]The idea had been to start with the furthest lead and then work backwards to Arlathan. In hindsight, he was glad of it. The greater the distance from the Marches, the better. Something which Ruth never thought would cross his mind regarding the land of the Dog Lords. He usually hated Ferelden. Too damp and with a cold that could sneak through the thickest layers worn to chill a man to the bone. Ruth hated the fucking cold above all else, usually sporting many layers unless the weather was as it had been lately, freakishly unusual. [/font]

[font=Arial, serif]This library had been mentioned to him a few times, curiously untouched or at least badly catalogued enough he’d been searching it far longer than intended. As usual, he had nested. Growing distracted by a text or two that had sparked a vague interest in some myth about something called a Kelpie. A shapeshifting water creature which tempted victims to their deaths by enticing them to ride their ghostly, ethereal horse's form. [/font]

[font=Arial, serif]As the voice called out, Ruth’s reading paused, and he expelled an exaggerated sigh. Cross-legged, his back leant back against the wall to find the person so hell bent on interrupting his valuable reading time. “... Isn’t it obvious?” a hand lifted the book a fraction, the pages ruffling with the motion. He was entirely too relaxed, as if being caught red-handed wasn’t unusual for him. [font=Arial, serif]“I’m reading,”[/font] rolling his eyes for added measure. “It’s the first time I’ve heard mention of a murderous sea horse, partly wondering if it’s based on one of the old elvhen ones.”  [/font]

[font=Arial, serif]He wasn’t. It had just been an amusing distraction for this frustratingly disorganised hellscape. “I get around. It’s a talent.”
[/font]

The attitude wasn’t something she she expected but it wasn’t a surprise, maybe that was where she got her own wit from. She moved into the room more fully, clutching her gown to herself tighter, continuing the role of the nervous maiden finding someone who shouldn’t be there.

I can see that, she said quietly and ran a hand through her blonde curls and held up the lantern to see a little better. She still couldn’t believe it was actually him and he was sitting there in front of her. She had always wanted to look for him but she didn’t no where to start but it seemed like the Maker or the Creators or whatever power on high that she was supposed to believe in wanted to throw him in her path.

Murderous sea horses? she looked concerned. She wasn’t. She didn’t really care. She was playing a nervous little half-elven waif, right? Some servant or kept woman who had no power and was scared of the intruder. Not that she didn’t think for a second she couldn’t take the man in front of her without even waking up a single person in the house. But where was the fun in that. She wanted to toy with him. See what she could get out of him without him being aware of who she was and not only who she was but that she knew exactly who he was.

Her eyes darted back and forth between him and the door behind her, Maybe I should get a guard or someone… I… don’t think you’re supposed to be here and I don’t want any trouble… she said, timid and backing towards the door, baiting him to stand and get closer.

There was always an attitude when he was being interrupted. It didn’t matter who, or the age, sex or class, all were treated the same. With mild disdain and boredom. His sharp blues watched her draw deeper into the still room, the corner of his lips twitching in amusement as she stated her own eyes were not quite as dull as her previous question. He did appreciate the additional light, though.

To him, she looked nothing more than another servant in another building that he’d crept his way into under some guise or another. Pretty, but they always were, weren’t they? And he’d usually enjoy them. Until he as making a quick exit out a window, escaping an infuriated husband, or worse, catching feelings when he himself wouldn’t advise it. Women. Blissfully he wasn’t picky about his own sex. It made things far less complicated.

“Kelpies?” He offered, brow arching while he quietly questioned her intelligence. Nearly every fishwife had a tale about some sea creature. Curious, that serving girl didn’t know that.

Her apparent nervousness caused him to chuckle though, a hand gesturing into the air the dale sought to at least reassure her he wasn’t anyone nefarious. Merely curious about the written word. “There’s no need to fret, little Miss. I don’t hold any ill-intentions. I’m simply an avid reader and my visit will be short.”  Slowly Ruth unfolded his lower limbs, rising only to stand, but, stubbornly, remaining where he was. His arms loosely crossed over the other, waiting to see if she’d make good on her threat. Yet for a man who never made a reckless bet, Ruth didn’t believe she would go through with it.

“Honestly. And as a bastard I can honestly say I am most of the time. Honest, that is. But I’m really just looking for a book. A specific one. This,” he turned over the one in his hand, “this was just a wee distraction. I bet a smart lass like yourself might know where the one I’m hunting is, right?”

Siobhan didn’t expect Ruth to have any clue who she was. Maker, she’d had no confirmation that the man even knew she existed. She didn’t look enough like her mother to expect a flash of recognition if he would even remember her in the first place. No, he had no clue who she was. Probably just another face in a sea of faces. How many poor maidens had he left bedded and alone. How many half-siblings did she maybe have hanging around out there that neither of them knew about? She wanted to put voice to those questions but that would come with time.

She’d honestly never heard of Kelpies before, however, growing up in the chantry and either being ignored, abused, or trained into a perfect weapon, she didn’t get to hear many old wives tales or stories of legend and myth. If she was honest she knew very little of elven anything and if it didn’t have to do with religion or nobility or directly related to her ability to kill or seduce those she needed to seduce to get what she wanted. She didn’t quite care that she didn’t know and if she could play up innocent and dumb it would only help her lure him into a false sense of calm.

She had to fight to keep from rolling her eyes when he called her little miss but she kept her face doe-like and kind of nervous. Just an avid-reader sneaking into a private library late at night. So normal. She bit down on her bottom lip and watched him stand. It became clear where she got her diminutive size from as he only stood maybe an inch taller than she. He hovered there and she started toying with the fabric of her thin night shit, toying with it.

So he was after something specific. That was interesting. She nodded slowly and tucked a blonde lock of hair behind her ear, I might be able to. You’re sure this is okay? She just needed him to tell her what he wanted and to find it first.

The possible consequences of Ruth’s escapades didn’t play much into his mind. He was well aware of it being a possibility, but so far, no-one had come along, brat in tow to confront him. There had been the lie that Nell had spun. One he’d believed to be her final attempt to lure him back into the clan and under his fathers influence again, but he’d ghosted Skyhold and any letter she sent after. There was nothing good to say to a woman sent by his father to play him for a lovesick fool. Before, he had been more carefree, now he was certainly colder and meaner for it.

He’d gotten distracted, though, and not by the pretty face before him. No, she was actually a timely intervention to get him back to the task at hand. He was technically on the clock and winning her aid would have him out of here sooner. A grin flashed, his head giving a brief nod as she appeared more willing in helping him find it. “Positive,” he’d lie smoothly. “I’m not even going to take it out of here. That’s perfectly acceptable, yes?”

He took a half-step back, gesturing deeper into the estate's library. “It would be very old, the cover made out of Halla hide. It’s supposedly from a Clan, one closely associated with the elvhen Goddess Sylaise.” Ruth shrugged, uncertain if that hunch held any truth to it. “It’s very likely your employer doesn’t understand it. Ancient elvhen isn’t commonly spoken now.”

He’d sigh, partially sad about the language, partially out of appealing to her more gentle nature. “I just want to copy it. For my people. I can sweeten it for you darlin’, for your help. Or even to narrow it down some.” He’d chuckle, “else I be distracted by another book.”