rhone_marrok (rhone_marrok) wrote in thebattleage, @ 2011-07-18 00:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! complete, (thread), [revered mother helen], rhone marrok |
Who: Rhone Marrok, and The Love of Rhone's Life Revered Mother Helen (NPC)
Where: Amaranthine Chantry
When: 6 Solis, in early morning following the Joining
Summary: After days of waiting for an audience with Amaranthine's Revered Mother, Rhone is finally granted one. After the Revered Mother's conversation with the Warden Commander, she might have a proposal in mind.
Rating: Uncharacteristically Low. Rhone hasn't sworn at a Revered Mother since he was 16.
The courtyard was peaceful even if Rhone was not. At it's center, the stone statue of Andraste stood in serene communion waiting for the masses that would eventually seek out her passive counsel. With Amaranthine caught in that tender transition between the sleepless finally finding rest and the sleeping finally stirring, her upturned palms and chiseled chin were marked only by Rhone's flickering gaze and the first rays of the sun.
For now, it appeared that Rhone would be leaving Amaranthine mageless... a development that left him as sick as it did angry. Fiona's death wasn't one that he mourned (pretending that he did so would have been unforgivably hollow), but he did know that she had been entrusted into his care. With Vespera's disappearance, even if she wasn't a member of any Circle, and with the other mages he had accompanied joining the auxiliary ranks of the Wardens, Rhone couldn't help but feel that this entire excursion had been a complete failure. While that didn't rest on his shoulders, he did take it personally. If it had been a test in patience, it was one that he had clearly failed. If it had been one in accepting circumstances beyond his control, then he was currently failing. Rhone wanted to seethe, kick, and rant until his voice was heard above all the others- but on some level (one he had clawed tooth and nail to find deep within himself as a younger man) he knew that there were other voices that carried more weight than his own. It was time for those voices to speak, and for him to slip back into his role as a military member of the Chantry.
He knew it.
That didn't stop him from hating it.
Sleep hadn't come easily the night before. His summons from the Revered Mother had caught him off guard- but a call from the Revered Mother in any city couldn't go ignored, even if it came before daybreak... and no matter how poor his disposition.
And Maker help him, but Rhone was nervous on top of it all. He boiled over quickly, started fights where he shouldn't, incited arguments because his pride was scuffed- but he couldn't do that with the Revered Mother. Those instincts had to be forcibly curbed in observance of a hierarchy that he had legitimately come to respect. He still felt like the angry little boy storming around the Chantry orphanage, but without the freedom to follow his impulses. He was still frightened of what lay beneath the veneer of the Chantry leaders, if only because he had something that they could finally take away from him. His role in the Chantry was small, easily replaced, but it was all that Rhone had ever had.
Being summoned without a provided cause churned the already uneasy tide of nausea, so when one of the Chantry's Sisters entered the courtyard, his eyes snapped to her figure. She quietly guided him the distance to the Revered Mother's office, slipping away without a single outward noise. Respectfully he hovered in the doorway, breaking the silence as delicately as he possibly could. Just hearing his voice in the wee hours of the morning sounded like an intrusion upon the silence, but it was entirely unavoidable. "Your Reverence? My name is Rhone Marrok-" Outwardly he steeled himself, even if it felt like his insides were about to squirm away from him at a moment's notice. He wanted to tack on 'you asked to speak with me?', but the Revered Mother knew better than he did precisely why he was there. "Thank you for setting aside the time to meet with me."