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[freedom_is_grey]

Of course it was Broodmothers in the Deep Roads.

Of course.

Fortunately explosives and an enormous block of lyrium were enough to take them out, no one died, and the Grey Wardens have a brand new recruit.

One with a sense of humor, too. Ysalwen has a feeling she's going to like Sigrun.

But it has been a long few weeks.

Which is why she's taken leave of her court, such as it is, to head to Milliways, and quiet, and freedom from the responsibility of being all things to a lot of people.

Plus the food is excellent, and the armchairs by the fire are incredibly comfortable.

One out of one mabari hounds agrees!

Okay, he's also napping, and Ysalwen is poring through a physics textbook, but still. Comfortable.

Comments

[balancingminds]

Tom is not feeling well, he's gone so far as to loosen his cravat and he has a strong drink as he lounges in a chair. His head is too full of noises and voices while he feels ill.

When the lovely and strange woman with her dog sits down, he sits up straighter and nods to her, "Good evening."

[freedom_is_grey]

"Oh, hello."

She smiles at him, reaching out to rest one hand on her dog's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, am I bothering you? We can move."

He was sitting there first, after all.

[balancingminds]

"No, not at all. Your dog is lovely and happy. After all these are the most comfortable seats in Milliways,"

He feels an odd certainty as he says this and wipes his handkerchief over his face to wipe away his sweat.

[freedom_is_grey]

"They're certainly more comfortable than a lot of the seats at home, I'll give you that."

Liranan barks once, cheerfully.

This new person appreciates his awesome!

Then Ysalwen ruins everything by frowning, ever so slightly.

"Are you all right?"

[balancingminds]

"Yes, simply enjoying the heat of the fire. I find it rather nice. What is your dog's name? I'm Thomas Lefroy of London,"

It wouldn't do to be ill, he rarely is, this is just something that will pass like the voices in his head. He must find out why a dog would be awesome.

[freedom_is_grey]

"This is Liranan," she says, scratching between her mabari's ears. "And I'm Ysalwen."

The Hero of Ferelden.

"You're sweating. Maybe a chair a little farther from the fire would be better?"

[balancingminds]

"Yes, perhaps and something cooler to drink," Slowly he stands up, using the opportunity to bow to her though he wobbles and sits in another chair, "Might I ask where you're from?"

[freedom_is_grey]

"Amaranthine, these days. In Ferelden. Thedas, not Earth. You probably haven't heard of it."

She's regarding him with an air of increasingly-less-faint concern.

Liranan, too, lifts his head and whines a little.

"Does your world have healers? Or surgeons? I've heard them called doctors, too, here."

[balancingminds]

"Oh yes, though my door's gone and I'm not that ill. Only a little tired and with an odd headache. No, I never have, but they're nice names,"

Tom tries his best to look healthy, while having a beautiful woman look at him with concern can be nice, not what he was hoping for tonight.

[freedom_is_grey]

At least he appears to appreciate the tattoo.

"Your door is -- gone? Well, that would go some way to explain any distress, wouldn't it? At least mine's only locked itself once or twice, not disappeared completely."

[balancingminds]

"No, I'm not distressed. All that's waiting for me there is work since my friend Henry is in the country with his family. Yes, I've never seen a woman with a tattooed face but it suits you," He stops right after he says that, "I must humbly apologize, I shouldn't have said that. At times I seem to be hearing what I shouldn't be."

[freedom_is_grey]

"Huh."

Something flickers into existence around Ysalwen, the air warping as if seen through a heat haze.

"Can you hear it now?"

She'll certainly be more comfortable if the answer is 'no'. Magic isn't a cure for all ills, but it certainly helps.

[balancingminds]

The haze is odd and he shakes his head,

"No, again I must apologize. Its disconcerting and has been giving me a horrible headache."

[dejah_thoris]

Woola loves sleeping in front of the fire. He sprawls, taking up the space of a small hippopotamus, letting the warmth seep into his bones. But today, someone has already claimed the prime real estate on the rug. He stops a few feet away, looking perplexed. He looks over his massive shoulder to his mistress who is only a few steps behind.

"Well, it looks like you're out of luck, my friend. You might just have to nap on the other rug." Dejah throws Ysalwen a grin with a playful roll of her eyes.

The calot whines under his breath. This is so not fair.

"Mind if we join you?"

[freedom_is_grey]

Ysalwen grins back, quick and crooked.

"I don't mind at all. Neither does Liranan, I'd guess."

Here she gives the mabari a quick look and a slight headtilt.

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind shifting over, either, if your friend would prefer a little more room."

[dejah_thoris]

"Oh no, there's no need for him to move. Woola, remember what we talked about."

Woola gave a long-suffering sigh and carefully picked his way around the mabari, each of his massive six feet placed as delicately as cat's paws. Once he got to the far side, he circled once and then settled down, nose flaring and bright eyes fixed on his mistress as she took the seat beside Ysalwen.

"Thank you. I don't believe I've had the pleasure. I'm Dejah Thoris."

[freedom_is_grey]

Liranan seems torn between looking at this new six-footed potential friend and watching Ysalwen and Dejah.

And sleeping.

Choices are hard.

Ysalwen, meanwhile, broadens her smile and inclines her head a little.

"I'm sure we'd both remember if we had. I'm Ysalwen Surana. Pleased to meet you, Dejah Thoris."

[dejah_thoris]

Woola quirks an eyebrow at Liranan, but not much else. He's aware he's there but he has other duties right now. His massive head sinks down onto his front feet and he focused on the new person his mistress was talking with.

"Ysalwen Surana," she inclines her head in return. A wait rat comes by to take her order and gazes warily at the two creatures curled up in front of the fire. She asks for her usual. "Are you studying physics for a class? Or freshening up for a particular project?"

[freedom_is_grey]

Ysalwen's smile goes crooked again.

"I'm working on picking up the basics, to begin with. I have a feeling understanding practical applications will make calculus easier to get into, as well. Are you -- oh what's the word -- a physicist?"

[dejah_thoris]

Dejah mirrors that crooked grin back to Ysalwen, and nods. "I am, among other things. Have you a tutor or is this a self-directed line of inquiry?"

[freedom_is_grey]

"Self-directed, as is so much of the study in my life. Fawkes did say he would help, but there is biology to get into, as well. And chemistry. Atoms, you know? I have a feeling there's something in that that might work quite well with magic. I just need to know more before I can find it. That and more capable hands can only help with machinery repair here, right?"

Science is great. And so far has proved to involve fewer demons than the Fade.

[dejah_thoris]

Dejah blinked a few times. "I'm sorry, did you say -- magic?"

[freedom_is_grey]

"I did. I am, after all, a mage. It's what we do."

[dejah_thoris]

Dejah's eyebrows rise and her mouth opens. Nothing comes out for a moment. And then she remembers where she is.

"...I'm sorry, I'm not from a world with magic. What is now known to be advanced technology was put forth as magic by an invading shadow occupation. That belief was used to oppress our people for ten thousand years. So you'll forgive me if I seem to hold a bias." She tries to keep the edge out of her voice. She almost succeeds, but not quite.

[freedom_is_grey]

Ysalwen hears that edge, and in return her own voice is very dry.

"Perhaps it will comfort you to know that mages are oppressed, imprisoned, made Tranquil or killed in my own world. But I am absolutely sure that what we do has nothing to do with technology. So."

Make of that what you will.