The Roof, Monday Morning

[cracksmostly]

So. Merrill had discovered the roof, and more relevant to her interests, the rooftop garden. This had been entirely by accident, as she'd been trying to get from her dorm room to the preserve at the time, and don't ask how exactly point A led to point C by way of missing point B because she'd been a little too lost in her thoughts at the time and certainly wouldn't be able to tell you. It was fine, though, since tending the spiky little plants was a job that appealed to her. It'd worked out well as far as she was concerned.

Having finished with that, she settled down near the edge of the roof, not too far away from the garden. It wasn't the same as being out in the preserve, but still quieter up here than in the dorms.

Somehow, at some point in the last week or so and equally by accident, she had also managed to find the library -- that accounted for the small stack of books beside her. They were all supposed to pertain to elven history, but whether she'd find anything useful in them was entirely up in the air -- so far none of them seemed to be the elven history of her world. She was determined to go through all of them thoroughly, though, and then when she was done she'd turn them in and check out a few more, and so on.

Safe to say that, ever since she'd met that Witch of the Wilds at the party a few weekends back, she was just a little tiny bit obsessed with the idea of finding and restoring an eluvian. It was her duty to preserve and recover what she could of the elves' lost culture, and this? This would definitely count.

[OOC: Open? Definitely open.]

Comments

[not_every_mage]

Really, it was sad they couldn't fund their Fandom lifestyles by selling torn trousers and shiny rocks looted from spider corpses.

Though the lack of giant spiders was perhaps compensation.

"Mostly," Anders answered, in an equally low tone of his own. he understood the urge to whisper about the Circle as well as she did. "The mages there said I had a knack for it, whatever that's worth."

Then, almost shyly: "Do Dalish talk about the schools of magic the same way as the Circle does? Creation, entropy, primal, spirit?"

[cracksmostly]

There was a definite upside to not having hordes of giant spiders descending upon you out of nowhere every time you set foot in some subterranean space or other.

She shook her head. "Our relationship with magic isn't quite the same as yours," she said, and she didn't mean for it to sound pretentious but it very well could be interpreted that way. She clarified a bit: "It isn't so formal, the way we study it. I don't know if it's different with other clans, but there's only me and the Keeper anyway."

[not_every_mage]

It sounded a bit pretentious, but not so much that Anders minded.

"That sounds nice," he said, wistful. "I know your people don't have it easy, but it'd be freeing to see your magic grow without so many people always there to tell you that you were using it wrong. And to walk outside without getting special permission and singing the chant backwards while standing on your head."

[cracksmostly]

"You only say that because you haven't heard one of the Keeper's lectures," Merrill said with a little laugh. "She could scold a rainstorm until it turns itself into a nice sunny day . . . did they really make you stand on your head?"

[not_every_mage]

"While singing," Anders reminded her. "Cross my heart."

[cracksmostly]

Anders, you were terrible.

"Just to go outside? Your Chantry doesn't make much sense," Merrill said, frowning. "Don't tell Cassandra I said so, though."

[not_every_mage]

Anders knew he was terrible, and would feel guilty about it exactly never.

"You already know they lock us up from childhood," he pointed out. "What's a little head-standing? But don't worry about me telling Cassandra. We don't exactly see eye to eye on the issue."

[cracksmostly]

Merrill might as well go ahead and get used to hanging around terrible people of this sort anyway.

"She wouldn't be looking for a way to drag you back home if the two of you did," she said, half distracted by a wilting leaf on one of the plants. "Even if I'll never understand her side of the argument, either."

[not_every_mage]

"I think it boils down to 'people want to control what they can't understand,'" Anders said, caustic. "Not that she sees it that way, but she's wrong."

This would be an excellent time for Merrill to start talking about the leaves, if she didn't want a lecture on the failings of the Chantry.

[cracksmostly]

But how would she learn to, er, appreciate the epic scale of Anders-style rants about the Chantry otherwise?

"It frightens them," Merrill said quietly, as sad as Anders was caustic. "And it's easier for them to control than to try and understand, and not be afraid any more."

Safe to say she missed the narrative cue about talking about leaves.

[not_every_mage]

"Exactly," Anders said, jabbing a finger toward her as if she'd made an excellent point. "And from what I've heard here, it's not just our world, either. I know someone who spent time in a cage over powers he didn't even have yet. People are frightened bastards everywhere."

A tiny, sad smile. "Here is a little better, at least. So that's something."

[cracksmostly]

Merrill nodded. "My roommate doesn't care, as long as I don't set the room on fire," she said, sounding as if she still had a hard time believing it. "And no one's called me names yet. I wonder if that's part of why the Keeper sent me here?"

She carefully plucked a dead leaf from one of the plants.

"It could be worse. Where we might have ended up."

[not_every_mage]

"It could have been so much worse," Anders agreed firmly, and gave Merrill a sidelong glance. "Were you training with the Keeper a long time? I didn't get sent to the tower until I was about 12, and that was old."

[cracksmostly]

"Since I was four," Merrill confirmed, turning the leaf over in her hands. "I was younger when my gift manifested, but there were already two mages in my parents' clan, so they gave me to Marethari to be her First. The Circle takes children in that young, too?"

[not_every_mage]

"Honestly, I think it prefers it," Anders sighed. "The ones who don't know what it's like to be free are much easier to keep in chains. I managed to hide what I was for a long time. Even from myself."

Anders' stubborn streak had started young.

"Four, though," he repeated thoughtfully. "That would be small even for us. Do you get to see your parents often?"

[cracksmostly]

Merrill shook her head. "Once, at the last arlathvhen. I hardly remember them any more, really; the clans are so spread out, they only meet every ten years or so." She laughed, one short wistful exhalation. "Then the Keepers spend a lot of time arguing."

It was her turn to give him a thoughtful glance.

"I wouldn't like being locked up in a tower, but it must have been nice, at least, to have other children to study magic with."

[not_every_mage]

"That part of it wasn't terrible," Anders admitted. "Some of them made for good friends ... at least, once I got over not talking and trying to run away every ten seconds."

He shrugged. "It is nice to feel properly trained, I'll give the Circle that."

He didn't mean that to be as condescending as it might have sounded.

[cracksmostly]

If Merrill was less inclined to be nice, she might have said something about what elves had been able to accomplish with magic long before the Circle or the Chantry existed. As it was, she looked mildly affronted for a moment or two, but kept any defensive retorts to herself.

"Instead of worrying you might set your bed on fire in your sleep?" was what she said instead, then: "It was always just me and the Keeper, when everyone else was learning other things. It got a little bit lonely. But I never wanted to run away. Is it really that bad in the Circle?"

[not_every_mage]

"Oh, I suppose it's not if you keep quiet and don't attract anybody's attention," Anders conceded. "There's enough to eat. You hear about beatings and such but it's rare. It's just that constantly being told you're wrong and dangerous wears you down."

He suspected Merrill might understand that much, at least.

[cracksmostly]

She did, in a way, and made a soft noise of sympathy.

"It isn't the same, when it's only the Keeper lecturing me, and I'd much rather deal with her than the templars," she said. "But there's a reason we try not to help them to remember we exist."

[not_every_mage]

"I don't know how templars handle Dalish," Anders admitted, running his thumb over the spiky leaves. "Not kindly, I'd imagine."

[cracksmostly]

"There are enough humans who think we're all dangerous, mage-gifted or not," Merrill said, biting her lip. "It's enough that most places don't want to risk making us angry."

Granted, the Dalish were not exactly benevolent to humans they deemed intruders.

"So, the templars pretend not to notice us, and those of us with the gift stay spread out among the clans. If they ever decided we were enough of a threat to be worth the risk . . ." She glanced up toward the sky. "I don't think they'd take any chances."

[not_every_mage]

Anders bit his lip. "I wish I could say I thought we were better than that," he admitted. "But ..."

He couldn't.

[cracksmostly]

Merrill just shrugged, as if she were resigned to it.

"We mostly avoid humans, so they don't understand much about us," she said, in the interest of fairness. "I can't say we don't use that to our advantage."