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Lalin ([info]lalin) wrote in [info]thebattleage,
@ 2012-03-05 00:15:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:! complete, ! incomplete, (thread), black matthew, conlan delaine, lalin adain

Who: Lalin Adain, Conlan Delain, and Black Matthew
When: Afternoon, 19 Solis
Where: Vigil's Keep's Courtyard
Rating: E for Everyone, V for Very Sad
Summary: Lalin receives bad news.


Almost Home. And isn’t that a funny thought. Home had meant a lot of things to Lalin over the years. Currently, it apparently meant the walls of Vigil’s Keep and the hope of seeing friends too long parted from. That was all she could think as she approached the Keep with her companions. Home, Faer, Azabeth, home. Maker, did she miss them. It felt like eons since she had last hugged Azabeth or kissed Faer's cheek to watch him blush. Soon, she thought, and moved faster towards the doors of the keep. Soon! She was so focused on getting inside the buildings and tracking down the people she had left behind that she nearly ran over a young man with a letter in his hand. “Excuse me!” she laughed and would have taken off again, had he not darted out to grab her arm.

“Are you Warden Lalin?” he asked quickly, as though she was going to dart away at any moment.

“Yes,” she said, confused as to why someone should be looking for her. “I’m Lalin.”

“I have a letter for you, ser. I’ve been told to watch for your coming and give it to you right away. It’s very important he said.”

“Who is ‘he’?”

“Korris Tael, ser. He’s been a companion for a while, I believe. He left for Denerim a few days ago, but left this letter for you. Very, very important he said,” the young man repeated. As though he believed she should rip into the letter at this very moment.

Instead, Lalin took the letter from him and thanked him. She had no idea who this Korris Tael was. She had never heard of him before in her life. Very odd... Lalin looked down at the letter in her hands. It was simply a single sheet of paper folded in on itself and sealed with wax. There was writing on the back that she didn’t understand. She looked up at the Keep and sighed. Her reunions were going to have to wait if the letter was so important. Unfortunately, reading hadn’t exactly been high on the list of Talin’s things to teach her. Lalin could write labels for her potions and poisons and knew what they all said, but that was memorization and not understanding.

It wasn’t exactly an embarrassment. There were plenty of people, especially in the Alienage, that couldn’t read. But her illiteracy wasn’t something that she went around advertising. She was sure Matt and Azabeth knew only because she had been with them for so long. Not because she had told them. Still, it was a little embarrassing to have to ask for help. She glanced back at her group. Matt and Lillie were talking quietly to each other, nothing new there. She was absolutely happy for them. Matt deserved all the happiness in the world and she rather liked Lillie. However, that did leave Conlan as the only other in her group that she would trust with something important or secret, whatever it was that was in the letter.

“Hey Conlan!” she called, running over to grab his arm and pull him off to the side. “Would you do me a favor?” She pushed on without waiting for an answer. If worst came to worst, she could aways beg, but she was pretty sure Conlan wouldn’t deny her. “Can you read this? The messenger said it was urgent but... I was never... exactly taught to read.”



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[info]conlandelaine
2012-03-08 02:34 am UTC (link)
Lalin's approach shook Conlan out of his thoughts. He was still weary from the mission to Norloth. In fact if pressed he doubted he could even recount the events that had occurred after they'd escaped the burning barn. He looked over to her, and hesitantly extended his hand.

"That's okay, I was taught but I don't remember most of it." He actually did remember all he was taught, but he hadn't been taught much. He was in fact, unsure of whether or not he could make out the contents of the letter as he opened it.

It turned out he could read it, but immediately wished he hadn't. His mouth opened and then quickly closed, and he felt a sinking feeling in his chest. He didn't look at Lalin for a moment, wondering if the inability to read would cover his hesitation. He never once thought of lying about it to her but he really didn't want to give her the news on the paper.

"It's- it's about Faer." He looked away from the page, folding the letter. "It says he died, to save the Wardens he was with. I'm sorry Lil Sis."

Conlan hadn't spoken to Faer often, and of those, a number of them had been disagreements, particularly in how battles should be fought. Con had often worried ever since the Dalish warden had been sent away that he would get himself killed, and seeing as that was Conlan's job, he had to suppress the urge to blame himself. It was another name to add to his shield, but that would wait. Instead he waited there fully ready to extend his arms the second Lalin clearly needed a hug and a literal shoulder to cry on.

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[info]black_matthew
2012-03-24 05:07 am UTC (link)
Never let it be said that Matthew was a man who did not keep an open ear. The keep was imposing, yes, an appropriate home for the Wardens and all that their upkeep entailed - and there was plenty of room and also a lot of things to do, not the least of which was securing a space for himself and Lillie in Amaranthine's numerous rooms, because if there was one thing his flower would want it was a bath, followed preferably by a nap. But he heard Lalin's voice, cutting across the clamor of the yard, and so he spoke to Lillie all the things that needed to be said, that he loved her and would find her once she had claimed a little niche for their own, and he would have been happy with a washbasin and a narrow cot to serve - and he would come and find her once she had done this, but for not he needed to speak with his student. He lifted her hand to kiss it, then bravely stepped away, and oh how hard it was, to leave her willingly when he had only just gotten her back.... But Lalin, it seemed, would shortly need him as well.

Conlan read the letter, and Lalin waited with baited breath as Matthew padded up behind her, silent from habit and not intent to deceive; realizing from Conlan's face that the death of this Faer was more deeply hurtful than it seemed, from his outsider's perspective, he circled some few paces to the side, to approach in Lalin's peripheral vision, and bowed his head in what he hoped was appropriate commiseration. He had gone more blindly into worse situations, but none of them came to mind at that precise moment. "I couldn't help but overhear, Lalin... I'm truly sorry."

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[info]lalin
2012-03-26 10:37 pm UTC (link)
Lalin's heart stopped. She blinked at Conlan. She shook her head. Tiny movements that couldn't betray even the smallest of details of what she was feeling. It was impossible to express. She reached out a hand to tug lightly at the paper, as though she would be able to look at it and tell that he was right. As though she would suddenly be able to read the words that were drumming on her heart. "Conlan," she said, trying to laugh. She hardly noticed that Matt had come up behind her and was trying to give her comfort. "Conlan. That's not what it says. Did you read it wrong?" The teasing in her voice came out as a pained gasp, instead. Her own body was trying to tell her what her mind refused to accept. Her hand darted forward to tangled in his sleeve. "Con," she said, begging. "Please. That's not what it says."

The last time someone close to her had died, she had lost her grandmother. Lalin had been deathly ill at the time and by the time she made it back into the city, Denerim was trying to rebuild and she found herself an orphan on the street. There had been little time to mourn. Lalin had, from an early age, not allowed tragedy to touch her. The abandonment of her mother, the death of her grandmother, Gavin's carelessness and her own love for him were all things that had been shoved down. They were not allowed to truly touch her. But none of these things had hit as hard as Conlan's words. Never before had she been tested with the death of a loved one in such a way, as an adult and fully able to experience and understand the grief that came with such news. Lalin suddenly feared she was not as untouchable as she had once believed. "Conlan," she said again, tears starting to choke her.

Her knees buckled, but both men were there to keep her steady. Lalin seemed to suddenly realize who was standing next to her. She jerked the paper out of Conlan's hand and pushed it at Matthew. "Matt tell me. Tell me it's wrong. Tell me, please." It didn't occur to her that Matt really didn't know who Faer was to her. She never had a chance to introduce them. Her whole body shook with fear and grief. She didn't truly believe that Matthew would tell her Conlan had read it wrong but... Of all the people in her life, Matt was the one who had taken her in his arms, had been a father to her when she desperately needed it. Surely, of all the people in all of Thedas, he could make this right.

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[info]black_matthew
2012-04-03 02:26 pm UTC (link)
Matthew didn't know who Faer was, nor what bonds he held over Lalin, but he had the benefit of experience, and he had not gotten so far in his life without being able to extract information from context only. With every evidence of gravity and respect due the situation, he took the letter from Lalin and held it in both ink-tipped hands, reading the contents quite carefully, though he had little doubt of what he would find within. To make it worse, he could tell that Lalin just wanted him to make it all right - and never more had he wanted to be able to do so, but there were some things that were only in the power of the Maker, and not one old man.

He read the letter swiftly, but maintained the pretense for several long moments after he had finished, deciding what exactly he wanted to do; in the end, he folded the letter delicately in upon the creases, as if hiding the words themselves might blunt the impact they had. He slipped a glance at Conlan - a temporary truce there, mandated by Lalin's pain, and he would not break it, though he might wish Conlan might have removed them to a more private place, or at least delivered the bad news with more tact. Matthew, for his part, would not cause more pain than necessary. "It's true, Lalin. He died a hero, so say the Wardens." His face was pale, the skin around his dark eyes tight. "I wish that I could make it not so. I truly do."

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[info]lalin
2012-04-03 10:45 pm UTC (link)
The confirmation felt like an arrow to the heart. It felt like dying.

She took the letter from Mattew and pressed it to her heart. Then she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. He wouldn’t lie to her, she knew that. Not that she thought Conlan had. It was a fool’s hope, a moment of childish fear and desperate begging against an inevitable fall. Now that she knew, without a doubt, without a possible, hopeful doubt that Faer was dead, she fell apart. She couldn’t find the strength to do anything but press close to Matt and cry.

She hadn’t loved him but she could have. There were two people in Lalin’s life that she had felt an instant connection with and had instant affection for. One of them was her best friend and heartsister. The girls had been with each other since their very early years and Lalin could not imagine a life without Az in it. They were a part of each other and there was absolutely nothing that could tear them apart. She loved Azabeth with a fierceness that was never ending and limitless and it had all started with an instant connection, an instant meeting of friends.

She had felt the same thing with Faer, had known that given time she would love him deeply and without end. But they hadn’t been given the chance, they had barely met when there were being torn apart again. And now this. She had lost him before he was really hers to lose. It wasn’t fair.

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[info]conlandelaine
2012-04-03 11:39 pm UTC (link)
Conlan barely caught Matthews glance. It was true there was probably some bad blood between them, it had almost seemed like every person Conlan had been close to over the past few years, already had a much deeper and more honest relationship to the older man. In a more introspective moment Con might have expected him to also known Viara and Ordhan long before Con met them. But this wasn't an introspective moment, and Conlan never was a man who could afford to hold grudges. At the moment he was worried about Lalin, and Con knew how much she'd be hurting long before he could see the moment hit.

It was the first time in a long time he had to comfort a friend over the death of a loved one. As she fell on Natthew, Con began to feel very much out of place. He didn't doubt being part of her support system, in the past he'd offered advice, but he wasn't exactly emotionally open. He'd meant to change that after the events of Norloth but now... he just couldn't think of what to say. It seemed sudden self realizations didn't come with directions, and Conlan was at a loss. Finally he took a breath and looked at Matthew.

"She should probably go see Az, I'll find the Boss and see if we can't find out more, and make arrangements to help handle this."

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[info]black_matthew
2012-04-07 02:53 pm UTC (link)
It might have helped if Conlan had stood back for a moment and simply though about his actions. Ah, the indescretions of youth; Matt was sufficiently older than Conlan that the mercenary would forever be lanky and barely old enough to drink in Matthew's eyes, but at least he didn't rub the lad's nose in it. There were more important things to do.

Whhen Lalin threw her arms around his neck, he returned the embrace, strong arms locked across her back to hold her tight, tilting his head that he could touch his cheek to the crown of Lalin's hair. "Oh, there, love," he murmured quietly, for a moment only the two of them in that crowded courtyard. "Let it all out." Whatever grudges might be held against him, no one could argue that Matthew did not love his 'daughters', or was a bad father-figure for them; partly, he was glad that Azabeth was not here at the reading of the letter, because then he could bear the initial brunt of Lalin's tears and give her to her heartsister in somewhat better shape. What she needed now was her family, disparate and strange as they were, and Matthew would see to it that it was done.

He had just had this thought when Conlan spoke up; he flicked a dark eye to the Warden, not daring to nod. "I'll take care of it," he said instead, quietly, simply.

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[info]lalin
2012-04-10 08:42 pm UTC (link)
Distantly, she heard Conlan and Matt talking about to do with her. A small voice in the back of her mind was embarrassed. She was weeping in front of the entire group as they made their way into the keep. Matt had dried her tears before, youthful hurts and scabbed knees. Once when she had broken her arm falling off the Arlessa's wall, he had held her close and carried her to the healers, as she cried and cried. Conlan had never done so, but he, at least, knew her. The others in the group did not. Her inner self already feared their probing questions. Her heart was bleeding and she didn't think she would be able to take sympathy and questioning looks from anyone other that her family. Not that she blamed Conlan for giving her the news directly, in a public place.

Her body wracking sobs eventually dissolved into hiccuping gasps as she tried to catch her breath around her tears. Her hands tangled in Matt's shirt and she leaned heavily on him, feeling like her legs couldn't hold her up. Conlan was right. She needed Az. When the tears still streamed down her face, but the sobs had slowed and she could speak again, she tipped her face up at Matt. "Take me inside," she whispered, throat and lungs sore.

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[info]black_matthew
2012-04-26 09:34 pm UTC (link)
Oh, dearheart. Matt felt her pain, more than she would ever know, and when she asked in that hoarse pleading voice for him to take her away, if Conlan was watching, he saw the blow strike home in the flinching of his eyes. Matthew made it a habit never to show his vulnerabilities, but this little slip of a girl was practically his daughter, as close to him as blood. That she suffered - that he could do nothing to protect her from that suffering, or even ameliorate it once it had occurred - was the worst kind of torture that the Maker could inflict on Matthew's blackened soul.

He dipped his head, pressed a fatherly kiss to her temple, his voice even only because Lalin needed it to be; she needed him to be strong, to be an invincible shield to hide her from the world, and he would be that person for as long as it was necessary. Matthew, of course, forwent the easy way - instead he dipped his shoulder and picked Lalin up in a princess-carry, just as he used to do when she was a little girl. She was so light in his arms, as if Faer's death had already half-wasted her away - Matt's face was hollow-eyed and grim as he carried his little girl to the keep, to give her over to the custody of her heartsister, praying with all his might that she could do something to ease Lalin's pain.

Later, he would go and pray in the chapel for Lalin's sake, even though he knew the elf wouldn't appreciate the gesture; after that, he'd hit the bar for far more rounds than he ought to drink. If he was lucky, Lillie would pry him away to come to bed, but sometimes, a man just needed to filter all the emotions through the bottom of a glass mug.

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