Who: THE MIRRORS (Sam, Ellie, and Robyn) Where: The REAL mansion When: May 13-20th Rating: PG-13 for possible language, violence, and flirtation Summary: A chance to cross over doesn't happen every day. The Story:
[He doesn't come her with the intention of finding anyone. In fact, part of the reason he does come here is the quiet, the solitude, the almost-certainty that few of the mirrors invading their side will find themselves coming here. He comes here because he feels it only a matter of time before his own other self steps across, and he has a quiet need for solace before that happens.
You who stand before the gates, You who have followed me into the heart of evil, The fear of death is in your eyes; its hand is upon your throat. Raise your voices to the heavens! Remember: Not alone do we stand on the field of battle.
He remembers the words in her voice - in Andraste's voice. It was only in contemplation that he realised he had indeed seen her during his forays into the past some months previously. Nathaniel is still unsure of how he feels about it.
This time, when he sees Robyn, he knows it isn't the version of her that he sees day to day. He takes a pew on the other side of the chapel's centre aisle, not quite level with the mirror warden, and quietly bows his head down.
The Maker is with us! His Light shall be our banner, And we shall bear it through the gates of that city and deliver it To our brothers and sisters awaiting their freedom within those walls, At last, the Light shall shine upon all of creation, If we are only strong enough to carry it.
Does she know the Chant? Does she remember it? He feels it would be too harsh a thing to ask.]
[ She knew the Chant. Knows only bits and pieces, now. Commander Cullen used to try and help her remember, but she hasn't seen him in ages, assumes he's left her just like everyone else.
This man she remembers from another time, a conversation. ... Or, so she thinks. Maybe not; they all blend together, people who won't look her in the eyes, who are either revolted or sympathetic or both.
Robyn's Mirror doesn't want company, but she seems to scoot a little closer nonetheless, staring. ]
You don't seem frightened. [ She remarks of the perhaps-stranger. ]
[He glances at her. She's still the same - Robyn, but not quite Robyn - a quiet blighted creature that could never strike fear into him the way a hurlock might.]
I'm not afraid of you, Robyn.
[He isn't sure if that's what she means, but he's neither afraid of her directly nor afraid of her part in what's happening. The rogue never had the impression that this mirror wanted to hurt anyone.]
[He says it quietly, echoing her. Does he fear them? Not exactly. He believes that Robyn can take care of herself on the other side, and that enough mirrors have brought themselves here so as to keep her safe from them.
Nathaniel presses his fingertips together and closes his eyes for a moment, breathing out a few words.]
Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.
[And why not both? If that's what it takes - and sometimes it is, when it comes to being a Warden, going into places where no one else would dare to for the best of reasons.
He glances across to the shade of what Robyn could have been, and smiles.]
[Some people don't follow the Chant. Some people walk away from it, yet still remember the words when they hear them. To have known it once and forget it completely is.. a little sad, in Nathaniel's mind.
He glances across at her again. It's interesting, in a way. He's never seen someone so taken by the Blight and yet so fully capable of thought at the same time.]
[ Were they in Ferelden and she were a real person with a real poisoning, she wouldn't be anything like this. As with the other failed recruits, she would be dead. ... But this is Wonderland, and, as they say, anything is possible. ]
... Yes. [ She answers slowly, looking suspicious. ] But what do you care about what I might want?
I have no quarrel with you. No more than that. [He says, leaning forwards slightly and pressing his fingertips together, his elbows resting closer towards his knees.]
I know enough to recite, if you'd find any pleasure in hearing it.
[The chant could take weeks to recite, and he does not know it in its entirety. He senses that it wouldn't matter to her, though, and he clasps his hands together as he ruffles up as much as he can recall from his deepest corners of his memories.]
There was no word for heaven or for earth, for sea or sky. All that existed was silence. Then the Voice of the Maker rang out, the first Word, and His Word became all that might be: Dream and idea, hope and fear, endless possibilities. And from it made his firstborn. And he said to them: "In My image I forge you, to you I give dominion over all that exists. By your will may all things be done."
[ She doesn't know how well he remembers it, but it sounds right. She listens in silence until he stops, whenever that may be, eyes wide and attentive (though her mind tries to wander, as it always does, with pain or other things). ]
Thank you. [ The Mirror says. ] You didn't have to do that for me, but you did.
[As it turns out, once he gets going he can remember far more than he thought, but eventually he runs out of verses. He glances to her with a faint half-smile and lifts one of his shoulders slightly.]
You're welcome. I.. hope it brought you some kind of comfort.
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\o/
You who stand before the gates,
You who have followed me into the heart of evil,
The fear of death is in your eyes; its hand is upon your throat.
Raise your voices to the heavens! Remember:
Not alone do we stand on the field of battle.
He remembers the words in her voice - in Andraste's voice. It was only in contemplation that he realised he had indeed seen her during his forays into the past some months previously. Nathaniel is still unsure of how he feels about it.
This time, when he sees Robyn, he knows it isn't the version of her that he sees day to day. He takes a pew on the other side of the chapel's centre aisle, not quite level with the mirror warden, and quietly bows his head down.
The Maker is with us! His Light shall be our banner,
And we shall bear it through the gates of that city and deliver it
To our brothers and sisters awaiting their freedom within those walls,
At last, the Light shall shine upon all of creation,
If we are only strong enough to carry it.
Does she know the Chant? Does she remember it? He feels it would be too harsh a thing to ask.]
no subject
This man she remembers from another time, a conversation. ... Or, so she thinks. Maybe not; they all blend together, people who won't look her in the eyes, who are either revolted or sympathetic or both.
Robyn's Mirror doesn't want company, but she seems to scoot a little closer nonetheless, staring. ]
You don't seem frightened. [ She remarks of the perhaps-stranger. ]
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I'm not afraid of you, Robyn.
[He isn't sure if that's what she means, but he's neither afraid of her directly nor afraid of her part in what's happening. The rogue never had the impression that this mirror wanted to hurt anyone.]
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[ Of the other Mirrors who had crossed over to do them harm, to bring back their own traitors and teach a 'lesson' to those who lived on this side. ]
If I am here, then she is there. [ The Mirror states. ] And "there" is not a very nice place to be.
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[He says it quietly, echoing her. Does he fear them? Not exactly. He believes that Robyn can take care of herself on the other side, and that enough mirrors have brought themselves here so as to keep her safe from them.
Nathaniel presses his fingertips together and closes his eyes for a moment, breathing out a few words.]
Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.
[She would not falter, and neither would he.]
I don't fear them any more than I fear you.
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[ She thinks of Cullen and Hawke, of whom she herself is deathly afraid. ]
You're very brave. [ The Mirror remarks thoughtfully. ] Or foolish.
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[And why not both? If that's what it takes - and sometimes it is, when it comes to being a Warden, going into places where no one else would dare to for the best of reasons.
He glances across to the shade of what Robyn could have been, and smiles.]
What brought you here?
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This. [ She replies simply, gesturing around them. ] Ours may be a 'mirror' of this place, but it is no substitute.
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You've no chapel on your side? [He asks, then looks to the front of the room.] Do you know the Chant?
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[ It only exists because of the one that was created on this side. Theirs does not have the life, the vibrancy of the original. ]
I did. [ Didn't she? ... Yes. Once. ] I have forgotten.
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He glances across at her again. It's interesting, in a way. He's never seen someone so taken by the Blight and yet so fully capable of thought at the same time.]
Would you want to remember it?
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... Yes. [ She answers slowly, looking suspicious. ] But what do you care about what I might want?
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I know enough to recite, if you'd find any pleasure in hearing it.
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I would. [ She whispers. ] Please...
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There was no word for heaven or for earth, for sea or sky. All that existed was silence. Then the Voice of the Maker rang out, the first Word, and His Word became all that might be: Dream and idea, hope and fear, endless possibilities. And from it made his firstborn. And he said to them: "In My image I forge you, to you I give dominion over all that exists. By your will may all things be done."
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Thank you. [ The Mirror says. ] You didn't have to do that for me, but you did.
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You're welcome. I.. hope it brought you some kind of comfort.
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He looks back at her, catching her eye for a brief moment.]
What is it like, on the other side?