[ The formality is odd, to be sure. Kitty isn't used to all the courtesies she's being given here. A girl and a commoner doesn't get asked how she prefers to be addressed; hell, she's likely to get a snappish you there what's your name. Typically, Kitty's accustomed to being called girl, the word dripping with boredom at best, menace at worst. ]
Kitty's fine. [ Or, well - ] Kitty's the best option, actually. Miss Jones always sounds so off.
[ Kitty's dressed plainly and practically. She sits, her posture prim, on the edge of the chair, leaning forward with equal parts nerves and anticipation. ]
What about you? I mean - I can definitely just call you Commander Coupe. That's how everyone else has been referring to you. I don't mind.
[ she drags a hand along jaw. if the gesture’s weary, it’s not for kitty. she straightens, a conscious restructuring of form — abandons it for a bad job, sits along the edge of the bed. ]
Outside the Gallows, that is most prudent. Within, you will hear others. Those chosen say less of me than they do the one speaking. My friends, [ or the presumptuous and disrespectful. ] Call me Wren.
[ the edge of her mouth crinkles, rueful. ]
Coupe will do for now, I think.
[ better not to crowd the girl. she turns to rifle, comes up with book in hand. the binding’s old, frayed; still clearly once printed with some reverence. the rays of a sun are scored deep into the cover. an LC is inked into the corner of a page. she offers it to take. ]
You will need forgive me some hypocrisy, but consider it an accessory to practice, rather than the substance.
This is the Chant of Light. It is absent of certain verses — copies of these are rare, and I regret, not mine to give freely. In the mean, that is Orlesian, beside the Trade.
[ a parallel column. ]
Best to familiarize yourself with its contents. I understand that Skyhold intends to render them mandatory reading.
[ Kitty's brow wrinkles as she turns the book over in her hands. Mandatory reading. So is this book a piece of propaganda, then? Something to indoctrinate its readers? Why else would people be forced to read it? Books that challenge your way of thinking, in Kitty's experience - those are kept away, behind lock and key. Books that anesthetize you, that lull you into stupidity, they're printed in big text with lots of pictures and pretty covers. But, to be fair, Kitty's experience isn't experience from this world; maybe that's just cynicism talking.
Still. The apologies are interesting. Her gaze flicks up from the cover of the book to the nearly-as-weathered face of the woman before her. ]
[ Her smile’s thin. It’s a good answer, politic; it says nothing very much at all. (That — itself — says something. Opinions aren't the product of facts alone.) ]
To understand the South, you must understand the Chant. It is as much a language as the words within.
We hold that when it is sung from all corners of Thedas, the Maker will return. Deliver the world,
[ The tip of her chin aside. ]
There are some who accord you a place in that. A matter of statement and expectation, no?
[ There are any number of ways to avoid the question, she's
exercised them before. But you have to extend a bit of trust if you want it returned —
And the Imperium aches like an old fracture.
(The former face of Inquisition outreach; in service some thirty years. Who
would even believe kitty?) ]
But I do not know that it matters. I believe that we can make a better
future — what is this, but the inheritance of creation? To work for that
which you cannot see — what is that, but faith?
[ Kitty hesitates a moment, then says, bolder still - ]
You're a Templar, right? Aren't Templars... [ She trails off; she doesn't quite have the knowledge or vocabulary to describe what they are yet. But she trusts that Coupe will understand the thrust of the question. ]
I served the Chantry, before the Inquisition. I will do so again, when our work is done.
[ That's optimistic. A slight gesture for pause, an explanation: ]
We are not all of a mind. The Order has declared its independence — others have been used by Corypheus, led astray. I understand the Imperium to keep its own to different standard; you may see templars in this city, but we've little common of it.
[ Kitty gives a small nod. She doesn't fully understand, not yet, but she says, her curiosity getting the best of her - ]
I've heard the perspective of some of the mages here. A lot of them - they see Templars as...cruel. Others see them as a necessary evil. [ Kitty tilts her head slightly to the side, studying Coupe's face. She certainly doesn't look cruel. Or evil. ]
I haven't heard the perspective of a Templar before, though. In your eyes - what's the Order for?
Power demands responsibility, a check. But we cannot allow its absence to rule our fears — the Order exists as much for the protection of mages as it does the rest.
[ A mob's an ugly thing. She watches a long moment; at last eases off a glove, and extends her left hand to take. The back's a marbled web of burn, not quite enough to cover the lingering shape of a brand below.
(A delicate ring rests improbable over callous.) ]
They did not choose magic, [ Softly: ] But it must not become their burden alone.
[ Kitty doesn't take Coupe's hand, but rather touches it - her fingers resting lightly on the burn. For a moment, she thinks of Jakob, his skin mottled back and white with the disfigurement that Mr Tallow had left upon him. She thinks of her own skin, clear as anything, because of her luck. Because of her resistance. And Tallow hadn't had to pay for it. Not officially, at least. The Hyrneks, they'd gotten him back, hadn't they - but not once did anyone in power speak up for what had been done to her friend. ]
What is that?
[ Not the burn. The burn, she understands. She's asking, rather, about the brand underneath. ]
[ Carefully, she positions her fingers, tugs the glove back into place. The flex of leather. ]
A threat, only. [ She regards Kitty, level. Something reorients in the slope of her shoulders, invisible armor rejointing itself. ] A reminder of one’s place.
[ The confusion gives way to anger. Her lips press together, and the muscles of her face tighten. ]
So that's what Tevinter is like, is it? [ She finds her fists clenching. ] Think everyone's under their control. Think they've got the right to hurt and abuse anyone and everyone.
[ There are eyes in these walls; ears. She has been counting, in large part, upon being uninteresting to watch. The Inquisition are by and large idealists, a would-be arm of the Southern Divine; their presence here is pragmatism, not affection. Few will be under illusions otherwise.
But that doesn’t mean they can have Kitty going on a more public tear.
She turns to collect the pillow (some overstuffed, feathery thing), ]
There is more than one Tevinter. [ She holds it out like a target. A tilt of her chin, the lift of her eyebrows: There are fists in those hands — so go on, then. ] Those who work, and serve, who do not rule. Corypheus is as much a danger to them.
Those who stand by while people are - are branded as slaves. As people - and elves, and all the others - as they're hurt and killed and scorched by magic, as they live their days terrified and miserable and afraid -
[ She shakes her head, and glares at the pillow, but doesn't strike. Determined to save her blow for a more deserving target, apparently. And in the meantime, she digs her nails so deep into her palms that she nearly breaks skin. (She may have a sense of what's smart, politically, yes, but that reason and rationality so often falls by the wayside when her temper gets involved.) ]
[ She glares down at her fists, then, like they've offended her. She knows she should calm down. Thedas is covered with injustices, after all, isn't it. Tevinter might well be the worst of it, but all of it matters. And she needs to approach with a level head, doesn't she? But it's hard - hard, when she thinks of it, and thinks of Jakob, thinks of Coupe's brand, and thinks of the way that even a world apart there's a place here just like London, like it's inevitable, like it'll always be this way... ]
And it's been this way for thousands of years. Hasn't it. [ She jerks her chin down at the book, the Chant of Light - she doesn't know it well, but she's heard enough from it to know about some part of Tevinter's role in the faith. ] It hasn't gone away or changed in all that time.
[ The reward for hard work is more work — Can’t recall now who’s said it, Petrana, or Araceli, or Courwin, or half a dozen others. A sentiment to dog all their shadows. ]
They murdered Andraste. But there have been others, since. There will be more, when you and I are gone.
[ Frustrated, she unworks one of her fists enough to jerk it through her hair. ]
It's not like home. I don't know what to do here.
[ A sentiment like the one she'd expressed on the network - but when talking publicly, she'd taken care to sound positive, cheerful, helpful, good-natured. Now, it's angry and despairing. This is a tone of voice rather more representative of her feelings. ]
[ She realizes how much she's given away. She tenses immediately; her face goes closed-off and wary and hard. Her eyes search Coupe's face, as though she can tell whether or not Coupe is trustworthy from her face alone, as though that isn't a completely absurd proposition. As though you can know someone from anything except their deeds. As though she can tell.
But. But Coupe has said the right things, at least. She's offered sympathy, and she's offered help - she's offered to educate Kitty, when it's in the best interests of tyrants to keep people ignorant...Offered her a book, didn't try to indoctrinate her or change her mind. And she has that brand. Would someone wicked have something like that? In Kitty's experience, the wicked were the people who'd never felt the oppression of power - who'd only ever exercised power over others. So.
After a long, wary moment, Kitty shakes her head no. Then, after another shorter pause, she says: ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
this is perfect, you are perfect
Date: 2018-07-23 12:36 am (UTC)[ The formality is odd, to be sure. Kitty isn't used to all the courtesies she's being given here. A girl and a commoner doesn't get asked how she prefers to be addressed; hell, she's likely to get a snappish you there what's your name. Typically, Kitty's accustomed to being called girl, the word dripping with boredom at best, menace at worst. ]
Kitty's fine. [ Or, well - ] Kitty's the best option, actually. Miss Jones always sounds so off.
[ Kitty's dressed plainly and practically. She sits, her posture prim, on the edge of the chair, leaning forward with equal parts nerves and anticipation. ]
What about you? I mean - I can definitely just call you Commander Coupe. That's how everyone else has been referring to you. I don't mind.
four hundred years later
Date: 2018-08-15 04:47 pm (UTC)[ she drags a hand along jaw. if the gesture’s weary, it’s not for kitty. she straightens, a conscious restructuring of form — abandons it for a bad job, sits along the edge of the bed. ]
Outside the Gallows, that is most prudent. Within, you will hear others. Those chosen say less of me than they do the one speaking. My friends, [ or the presumptuous and disrespectful. ] Call me Wren.
[ the edge of her mouth crinkles, rueful. ]
Coupe will do for now, I think.
[ better not to crowd the girl. she turns to rifle, comes up with book in hand. the binding’s old, frayed; still clearly once printed with some reverence. the rays of a sun are scored deep into the cover. an LC is inked into the corner of a page. she offers it to take. ]
You will need forgive me some hypocrisy, but consider it an accessory to practice, rather than the substance.
This is the Chant of Light. It is absent of certain verses — copies of these are rare, and I regret, not mine to give freely. In the mean, that is Orlesian, beside the Trade.
[ a parallel column. ]
Best to familiarize yourself with its contents. I understand that Skyhold intends to render them mandatory reading.
no subject
Date: 2018-08-15 05:11 pm (UTC)Still. The apologies are interesting. Her gaze flicks up from the cover of the book to the nearly-as-weathered face of the woman before her. ]
So - you don't agree with that decision?
no subject
Date: 2018-08-15 05:21 pm (UTC)[ her hands spread, indicating borders broader than the imperium alone. ]
What do you imagine those to be?
no subject
Date: 2018-08-15 06:00 pm (UTC)[ Her answer is cautious. ]
I'm a stranger, like you said. I'd need to know more about everything - politics and all - to really understand it.
no subject
Date: 2018-08-16 07:14 pm (UTC)To understand the South, you must understand the Chant. It is as much a language as the words within.
We hold that when it is sung from all corners of Thedas, the Maker will return. Deliver the world,
[ The tip of her chin aside. ]
There are some who accord you a place in that. A matter of statement and expectation, no?
no subject
Date: 2018-08-16 07:24 pm (UTC)Kitty fiddles with her hair a moment, then asks a slightly more daring question: ]
Do you believe that?
you're a hero i'm on email tags again
Date: 2018-08-16 08:22 pm (UTC)[ A breath in, ]
No.
[ There are any number of ways to avoid the question, she's exercised them before. But you have to extend a bit of trust if you want it returned —
And the Imperium aches like an old fracture.
(The former face of Inquisition outreach; in service some thirty years. Who would even believe kitty?) ]
But I do not know that it matters. I believe that we can make a better future — what is this, but the inheritance of creation? To work for that which you cannot see — what is that, but faith?
<3
Date: 2018-08-17 02:23 pm (UTC)You're a Templar, right? Aren't Templars... [ She trails off; she doesn't quite have the knowledge or vocabulary to describe what they are yet. But she trusts that Coupe will understand the thrust of the question. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-08-17 03:31 pm (UTC)[ That's optimistic. A slight gesture for pause, an explanation: ]
We are not all of a mind. The Order has declared its independence — others have been used by Corypheus, led astray. I understand the Imperium to keep its own to different standard; you may see templars in this city, but we've little common of it.
no subject
Date: 2018-08-17 04:01 pm (UTC)I've heard the perspective of some of the mages here. A lot of them - they see Templars as...cruel. Others see them as a necessary evil. [ Kitty tilts her head slightly to the side, studying Coupe's face. She certainly doesn't look cruel. Or evil. ]
I haven't heard the perspective of a Templar before, though. In your eyes - what's the Order for?
no subject
Date: 2018-08-17 04:46 pm (UTC)[ At the Imperium, in all its sprawling glory. ]
Power demands responsibility, a check. But we cannot allow its absence to rule our fears — the Order exists as much for the protection of mages as it does the rest.
[ A mob's an ugly thing. She watches a long moment; at last eases off a glove, and extends her left hand to take. The back's a marbled web of burn, not quite enough to cover the lingering shape of a brand below.
(A delicate ring rests improbable over callous.) ]
They did not choose magic, [ Softly: ] But it must not become their burden alone.
no subject
Date: 2018-08-17 05:00 pm (UTC)What is that?
[ Not the burn. The burn, she understands. She's asking, rather, about the brand underneath. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-08-17 05:24 pm (UTC)[ One that she ought to have responded to —
Hasn’t. Can’t dwell on that just now. ]
A Magister was, [ Dry, dry as her mouth goes to think of it: ] Unhappy with me.
It is a slave's mark.
no subject
Date: 2018-08-17 05:28 pm (UTC)You...were a slave?
no subject
Date: 2018-08-17 05:35 pm (UTC)[ Carefully, she positions her fingers, tugs the glove back into place. The flex of leather. ]
A threat, only. [ She regards Kitty, level. Something reorients in the slope of her shoulders, invisible armor rejointing itself. ] A reminder of one’s place.
no subject
Date: 2018-08-17 05:49 pm (UTC)So that's what Tevinter is like, is it? [ She finds her fists clenching. ] Think everyone's under their control. Think they've got the right to hurt and abuse anyone and everyone.
no subject
Date: 2018-08-17 06:12 pm (UTC)But that doesn’t mean they can have Kitty going on a more public tear.
She turns to collect the pillow (some overstuffed, feathery thing), ]
There is more than one Tevinter. [ She holds it out like a target. A tilt of her chin, the lift of her eyebrows: There are fists in those hands — so go on, then. ] Those who work, and serve, who do not rule. Corypheus is as much a danger to them.
no subject
Date: 2018-08-17 06:21 pm (UTC)[ She shakes her head, and glares at the pillow, but doesn't strike. Determined to save her blow for a more deserving target, apparently. And in the meantime, she digs her nails so deep into her palms that she nearly breaks skin. (She may have a sense of what's smart, politically, yes, but that reason and rationality so often falls by the wayside when her temper gets involved.) ]
Why don't they rise up? Why don't they resist?
no subject
Date: 2018-08-17 06:28 pm (UTC)[ Her eyes track to Kitty’s hands, linger before returning up. ]
You are hurting yourself.
no subject
Date: 2018-08-17 06:35 pm (UTC)Who cares.
[ She glares down at her fists, then, like they've offended her. She knows she should calm down. Thedas is covered with injustices, after all, isn't it. Tevinter might well be the worst of it, but all of it matters. And she needs to approach with a level head, doesn't she? But it's hard - hard, when she thinks of it, and thinks of Jakob, thinks of Coupe's brand, and thinks of the way that even a world apart there's a place here just like London, like it's inevitable, like it'll always be this way... ]
And it's been this way for thousands of years. Hasn't it. [ She jerks her chin down at the book, the Chant of Light - she doesn't know it well, but she's heard enough from it to know about some part of Tevinter's role in the faith. ] It hasn't gone away or changed in all that time.
no subject
Date: 2018-08-17 06:49 pm (UTC)[ The reward for hard work is more work — Can’t recall now who’s said it, Petrana, or Araceli, or Courwin, or half a dozen others. A sentiment to dog all their shadows. ]
They murdered Andraste. But there have been others, since. There will be more, when you and I are gone.
[ She presses the pillow again. ]
You care. So use it.
no subject
Date: 2018-08-17 07:02 pm (UTC)[ Frustrated, she unworks one of her fists enough to jerk it through her hair. ]
It's not like home. I don't know what to do here.
[ A sentiment like the one she'd expressed on the network - but when talking publicly, she'd taken care to sound positive, cheerful, helpful, good-natured. Now, it's angry and despairing. This is a tone of voice rather more representative of her feelings. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-08-17 07:08 pm (UTC)[ A shopgirl, She’d said to another. Wren knows better than to discount the possibilit — might have lived and died a butcher —
Even so. ]
Did you do it alone?
no subject
Date: 2018-08-17 07:17 pm (UTC)But. But Coupe has said the right things, at least. She's offered sympathy, and she's offered help - she's offered to educate Kitty, when it's in the best interests of tyrants to keep people ignorant...Offered her a book, didn't try to indoctrinate her or change her mind. And she has that brand. Would someone wicked have something like that? In Kitty's experience, the wicked were the people who'd never felt the oppression of power - who'd only ever exercised power over others. So.
After a long, wary moment, Kitty shakes her head no. Then, after another shorter pause, she says: ]
Not until recently.
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