[Arthur and Imhar] Four Walls Seems Mighty Like A Cage To Me
Who: Imhar & Arthur Pendragon Where: Everdale and environs When: Saturday Morning What: Welcome? Why: Well he's just escaped Orlais hasn't he? Status: Ongoing Ratings: TBD
There was always intrigue to be found at the Winter Palace. Always. If it wasn't who was touching bits with who, it was who was planning to murder who else or... Orlesians, right? Imhar'd heard whispers for a very long time about a place where you could go that let you stay hidden for as long as you needed. Sounded like a trap. It was probably a trap, but when was Imhar ever good at staying snared in a trap?
So when the wolf started overtly making his plays, Imhar started planning. When the wolf killed the Elf Mother, Imhar planned faster and tried very very hard not to panic enough to draw attention to himself.
The trip to Preya had taken far, far more doing than he was alright with. Deals with Antivans and spirits of boundaries who hadn't ever been particularly fond of him in the first place (he swore, they were all on the same level of mad and tetchy as his murderous goat spirit brother,) to get onto boats and carriages and to let himself be made unconscious enough to pass those boundaries.
The final ship docked and he found himself in a carriage being delivered to the place that'd been arranged for him. The air smelled crisp and cold. Better than Halamshiral had been or the port at Rialto. Good. A proper snow would help his heart. He wasn't leaving his people forever. Just a little while. Long enough that his absence would protect them. Sometimes running was the smarter option. Right? Gods, he hoped so.
When the carriage pulled to a stop and he got out there was a blonde man who looked straight out of Redcliffe just there. He swore if he was being arrested the moment he arrived he was going to have a grand old vengeful time with the people here who'd organized his arrival.
He'd kept the Orlesian finery he'd been in when he slipped away from the Inqusition Nonsense on. Not the best for warmth, but he was Avvar. It'd take far more cold than this for him to be bothered by it. Besides, he'd stolen it from that lovely Tevinter mage fair and square in the first place and that man was very very attractive when he was Unreasonable Outraged about something.
Imhar smiled charmingly at the man, copper eyes crinkling at the corners. "Hello."