crystal, the morning after The Dream

[untiltheyarent]

FORM: Crystal
SENDER: Fifi
RECIPIENT: everyone
NOTES: Elf Stuff (tm)

[Haltingly, in a small and perhaps unfamiliar voice,]

...who's Fen'Harel?

Comments

[sulahnan]

[ Drawlingly, in a sleepy and familiar voice, ]

The Dread Wolf, elvhen trickster god...bad news, according to the stories.

[untiltheyarent]

Is he... he's not a modern person?

[sulahnan]

Nope. He predates Andraste.

[ But hang on— ]

Why?

[untiltheyarent]

Why would there be agents of him in any modern... [what]

...interpretation?

[sulahnan]

[ She hums, giving it some real thought. ]

Fuck if I know.

[untiltheyarent]

So "Agent of Fen'Harel", as a phrase, means nothing to you?

[There's urgency, not accusation, in the question.]

[sulahnan]

Not like...as a recognizable entity, no. I guess an Agent of Fen'Harel would be someone acting on his behalf? Or someone who pledged themselves to him? But I don't know of any Fen'Harel cult or whatever that has capital-A Agents for us to worry about.

[ She makes a sound that's basically an audible shrug. ]

But I'm not an expert or anything, there could be a cult out there.

[noonrodeon]

All right, miss?

[untiltheyarent]

Yes, I--

I had a dream about someone with that name.

[noonrodeon]

Seems like that's been goin' round. Name don't sound familiar to me, but if you like, I can ask Monsieur Dalat if he's knows anything in the archives on it.

[untiltheyarent]

I appreciate it, Messere.

[noonrodeon]

It's no trouble, miss. And just Noon's fine, I ain't near fancy enough to be a messere.

[muckspout]

[Annoyed.] Who am I? Who are you?

[untiltheyarent]

....what?

[muckspout]

Why?

[untiltheyarent]

Why what?

[muckspout]

I don't know. I thought we were asking questions. You started it.

[untiltheyarent]

I--??

[She just stops. This is probably not worth her time.]

[muckspout]

You? Are who? I am Edgard.

private & in orlesian.

[cozen]

You made me that sad without knowing why?

[ He’s teasing. Mostly. ]

private and in orlesian forever

[untiltheyarent]

[A wincing sigh,]

Bastien,

[cozen]

Fifi.

I forgive you, of course. I have picked up the little pieces of my heart and stitched them together. I just don’t know if you are lying or not now.

[untiltheyarent]

...have some wine with me, ami. Come play with Sati. I need to see your face.

[cozen]

All right, all right. I will be there as quickly as I can make the walk.

[ And he is. ]

[untiltheyarent]

[When she opens the door, she has a bottle and corkscrew in hand, which she gives to Bastien as she goes to fetch the little finely-carved wooden goblets she keeps in her cupboard.

Sati is up and wagging and bounding, in the manner of a puppy still under a year old.]

If she tries to jump up, put your knee up like this, [Fifi demonstrates.]

Don't pet her until she's calm, please.