Blood and Fire

This isn’t what she’s expecting, but Aelith has learned by now to simply go with these things. She steps forward as she’s summoned, the top of her head just barely skimming underneath the plants hanging from the ceiling, and she wonders if the apothecary is intentionally designed to keep humans away, or if it’s an added bonus. Her lips curl into a grin – either way, it’s produced a largely pleasant result. 

     As the stranger speaks, Aelith leans forward, until her nose is barely an inch from the mushroom – then, as soon as she catches sight of the blue, she straightens. “Just after cutting. It’s faint, but it’s there – ” She points, careful not to touch, and then she laughs. “Do you poison yourself frequently, then?” The stranger reminds her a bit of Sigrun – that persistent cheer, the apparent comfort and familiarity with the prospect of injury or death. She feels a sudden ache in her chest; Amaranthine is too far, as are the Wardens. 

     “My name is Aelith.” Her smile is soft, and open. “And there was less a single person who sent me your way, and more a great deal of whispering and suggestion that if I’m seeking out certain knowledge, I’d be a fool not to find you. I understand if you can’t help me, but if you can, I hope you will – I am a Grey Warden.” No use beating around the bush, particularly if she’s asking for help; she doesn’t want to leave out pertinent information, and especially if that information might be convincing. “And I’m hoping to learn more about the taint. If you’d prefer to speak later, I can come back – or I can buy you a drink and we can speak then – whatever you’d like.“

Jeja gives a little satisfied hum at the pronouncement, sweeping the freshly cut mushroom into the pile with the others, and then all of them into a little basket. Not poisonous, then, or at least not any kind of poisonous that will bother them.

“Oh, not nearly as often as Jorgun feels I do-- She worries about having to train someone else up to fetch her things from the caves.” Jeja dismisses the idea with a flip of their hand and a wink. If they were being uncharitable, they might suggest that Jorgun would be glad to have someone who didn't bring quite so many things up from the caves; but Jorgun doesn't say much about it unless Jeja lets it spill into the shop proper, and they're getting better at that. Like this, carefully considering what to do with a Grey Warden.

“Well!” Jeja chirps at last, decision made. "If you’ve come all this way on whispers and suggestion, I might as well see what I can do.” With that, they collect the basket of mushrooms and turn with a vague sort of motion that Aelith should follow them around the edge of the counter and through a door into a marginally more open workroom; where they can wave the little Warden down into a scuffed chair.

Tagged by: @ofexaltations

@swordandsorrow / jeja PLOTTED STARTER

It’s easier than she would have thought to travel without being recognized; everyone knows that the Hero of Ferelden is an elf but no one really cares to stop any elf who matches the description. It affords Aelith some anonymity, for which she’s grateful, particularly now. She’s been sent halfway across the country twice over now, chasing after promises of knowledge that may not actually exist; she’s tired, and her feet hurt, but she’s still smiling when she opens the apothecary door.

     “Excuse me?”

     Five years ago she’d have scoffed at the suggestion that she’d ever be looking for a cure. The taint is what saved her; she would have been content to live out her borrowed years and die an honorable death in the Deep Roads alongside the Wardens she calls her family. ( But people change, circumstances change, and here she is. ) 

     “I’m looking for someone called Jeja. Is there any chance I’m in the right place?”

“Might be! Could I have your help a moment, first?” Jeja looks up from their position behind the counter, twice-broken nose and bushy brows and intense, cheerful interest. There’s enough space to walk from the door to the counter between the hanging herbs and the cabinets, provided one isn’t particularly tall or wide; and seeing as the latest entrant doesn't seem to be either, they don’t feel bad about gesturing them forward.

“Would you say this bruises blue just after cutting, or that it takes a few seconds?” Jeja nicks the cap of the mushroom before them and leans back to let the stranger have a look. There’s a neat pile to the side where they’re done this before, but they’re not having any luck telling.

She’s said it before, and she’ll say it again - fuck the Deep Roads, fuck Bartrand Tethras, and fuck her for thinking this would be a good idea in the first place. Katheryn Hawke is a simple woman, with simple needs, and none of them involve dying in the dark and the cold, miles below the earth’s surface. For a while, Anders had lit the way with magic, but they’ve decided his mana is worth saving, since apparently, even the rocks don’t want them down here.

     It’s why she’s holding a torch, now, and it’s also why she’s trying very hard to find something to say that isn’t we’re hopelessly lost, this pile of rocks looks exactly like the pile of rocks we passed two hours ago. The light is shit, but not shit enough that she can’t be sure of that much, and the light she’d been going towards - faint, but at least something to hope for - doesn’t seem to be any closer to her than it was when they first started going towards it.

     And just as she’s losing hope that there’s nothing else to say, just as she’s opening her mouth to inform them all that they’re most definitely going to die down here, she hears a voice, cheerful and pleasant despite the words. Immediately, Kat looks down, catches sight of unfamiliar mushrooms, and takes a step back, almost falling on top of Varric, who catches her with a vague snort of amusement.

     “Er.” Yes, please, help us, we’re all too young and pretty to die. “Um. Hello. Who, ah - who are you?” And then, because it’s a very real concern - “I’m not hallucinating, right? Because I did eat a mushroom back there that I was about positive was safe but I’m starting to wonder if it wasn’t.”

Jeja watches Kat with the sort of intense interest that they watch most things, gaze flickering to each member of her group in turn. Human with blades, dwarf with a crossbow, human with a staff. None of them really dressed to be down here long-term. Not like Jeja, squared out further with layers of leather and cloth that guard them as much from the chill as the restless denizens of deep places.

The comment about the mushroom brings up a smile that crinkles their whole face, and a chipper “Probably not! Most of what grows around here is dinner or deader.” 

Oh, that’s a nice one. They’ll have to remember to tell Shivvie.

“I’m Jeja.” They let go of their staff for a moment to wave and promptly realize they should have used the other hand, catching it again before it can fall. “Who’re you? Besides lost, I mean.”