bethen avilla ; the circle mage (bethe) wrote in thedas,
The Mother's weathered hand slipped from her lap to accept the offering, her fingers wrapping around the Templar's for a brief second as the coin exchanged hands, shaking it gently. "Bless you, brother," said her Reverence, not even bothering to count or weigh the gift before reaching for a small slotted box at the desk beside her. The silver pieces clinked loudly as they settled at the bottom of the wooden container. She faced them immediately after the man stated their titles; she squinted, obviously confused by the fact that he still wore the suit of the Chantry's military arm, though she couldn't refute him. He was just simply more than he appeared. "You are...Grey Wardens? Ah, you should have said so. Your presence in our humble town alone would have been donation enough," she paused, not looking at the donation box, though she was clearly thinking about it. In spite of her verbal gratitude, she had no intention of returning the money. "But thank you for your charity. We fear we may soon be falling on hard times again. Though, that is why you have come so far south, isn't it?"
Even though it was brief, the conversation between clergy (as it was still hard to separate Alderic from their ranks, even if he was truly unaccountable to their order any longer) had given Bethen enough time to gather her thoughts and her words. She could do this. To answer the priest's question first, however, her hands were clasped in front of her as she dipped her head apologetically, "Not...precisely, your Reverence. As my colleague said, we're only passing through town, though our hope is to prevent your concerns from coming true."
Her Reverence had a perfect face for card playing, as she was unflinching at this explanation. Her serene smile remained. "I see. May the Maker light your path and protect you on your journey, all of you." The elder woman's eyes darted downwards to acknowledge the wolf at her feet. Whether he understood such a blessing or not didn't matter. Business settled, the cleric focused her attention on the young woman in front of her, "Now, what was it that you wished to ask of me, child?"
She had practiced what she wanted to say in her head for several minutes now, though she still froze up momentarily when it came to actually speaking those sentences. Beth took a quick look around; Alderic's smile had a wonderfully calming effect. She took a deep breath and started at the beginning, "My name is Bethen Avilla." She was so intent on getting the words out of her mouth that she didn't notice that her Reverence had shifted at the name, sitting up slightly in her chair. "I was born in this town, but due to certain...circumstances, I was forced to leave when I was quite young." Again, she looked at her friend for some kind of advice: should she be blunt, or remain discreet about her condition? The Templars outside the room couldn't have known for certain she was a mage, but they had regarded her with suspicion anyway. What would they do if she confirmed it?
But the Revered Mother ended the query for her, quietly interjecting, "You...are a mage, are you not?" The question left Bethen utterly baffled. How had the woman known? Was it so obvious this entire time? Her phrasing wasn't exactly vague, but she didn't think she'd given that much indication to her status.
Dumbfounded as she was, Beth nodded and managed to answer defensively, "I am. But I've gone through my Harrowing, and the First Enchanter--"
Her Reverence held up a hand to quiet her. It worked; the mage went completely silent. There was no fear or fury in the woman's expression, however. "You needn't explain," she said genially, "You are a Grey Warden. You have undertaken a great responsibility, and for that, the world cannot be grateful enough for your sacrifice. Your parents...would have been very proud of you." It was the last sentence, so soft and soothing, that sent a chill through the Warden. The priest, however, remained absolutely placid, "Welcome home, Bethen. It has been a very long time."