"Ansburg," Sina repeats, trying to picture where that is. "To the east?" she confirms, then tilts her head as Fern continues. "Why?" she asks, and, realizing that might sound rude, qualifies it: "I don't know much about them, apart from Anders. They seem a troubled lot."
"Why?" Fern repeats and looks startled by the question, like it hadn't occurred to her that anyone might hear of her goal and think of it as anything other than a logical and normal ambition for a person to have. She furrows her brows a little in thought, looking aside, then back to Sina again. One can almost see the stars coming into her eyes and smile. "Well--they saved the world from the Blight, didn't they? They saved Ferelden, and Denerim--my gran still lives there, she says she saw the whole thing."
(A bit of an exaggeration on the part of Granny Doirnáin, who'd been hunkered down in the back of her laundry during the whole wretched business.)
Gradually, though, Fern's smile fades with some worry. "What's troubled about them?" she asks.
None of this is news to Sina, per se, but she's so detached from everything the Wardens have done, they barely register on her radar for Important Things. She shrugs one shoulder, looking a little abashed. "I don't know," she admits, "they don't interact much with the rest of the Inquisition. It's hard to know them, and... I'm not certain they... want to be known."
"It's hard to know them, and... I'm not certain they... want to be known."
The last of Fern's smile fades at this, and she looks down at the foliage under her boots for a moment, once again fidgeting her fingers together. That doesn't bode well for her ambition to join them, does it. "Inessa seems nice," she volunteers, trying to catch Sina's eye again. She has nice eyes, Fern thinks.
Sina's eyes are caught easily, and her smile returns. "She is," she confirms, "I'm a bit afraid of Garahel, but at least he seems to know it." She'll never understand the Fereldan obsession with dogs: why let something that similar to wolves into your home, especially when it's actually bigger than a wolf and more comfortable with people? Shem'len.
"Oh, he's just a big softie," Fern all but gushes, her smile growing quite warm; she's Fereldan, too, she's allowed to be completely obsessed with dogs. "And yes, he's so smart! I used to have a couple of collies back on my parents' farm, for herding sheep and such, but they weren't nearly so smart as a mabari." Hard to miss the look of longing in her eyes; Maker, but she wants one. ):
She seems to notice that she's on the cusp of Getting Weird about dogs, though, and reins herself in. Shyly looking down at her shoes, she admits, "Anyway... Even if they've got their troubles--the Wardens, I mean--I still want to try to join them. I can fight," she adds, though admits uncomfortably a second later, "sort of."
Dogs. Who knows. Sina smiles anyway, not having any idea what collies are, but able to assume they are along the same subject lines. It's then that Fern mentions the Wardens again, and joining them, and Sina can't help but look a bit concerned. "I'm sure you can," she says with a reassuring smile, "...I've... never been able to, not for the Inquisition." Lightly touching her glowing sternum, Sina hopes that's explanation in itself. "But even if... you don't, there are other ways to stay useful. Like gardening." Her smile grows, a bit of pink rising in her cheeks. Heyyyy join the garden staff
Fern looks to the green glow embedded in Sina's chest and winces again; yes, she understands, and it shows clearly in her expressive eyes. She also notices that smile, the blush, and finds herself smiling back again. Shyly ducking her head, she reaches up a hand to rub the back of her neck.
"Um," she starts, the noise halfway to a nervous giggle. "I can garden... And I know some spells," she adds quickly, "for keeping the frost at bay, if that's needed. Maybe not so much here as in Ferelden, our winters were bitter cold."
What a way to ramble, good job, Fern. Blushing, she asks, "You like gardening?"
This merits a giggle, as much in empathy as in Sina's own flustered amusement. Fern has a sweet smile, and such emotive eyes, and it's difficult not to be taken by them. "I'm the head gardener," Sina laughs, amused by the fact that she never bothered to say, and that most people still don't know without being told. "I came to check the fruits here, to make sure they're growing as intended." Here in the crazy magic forest.
"You're the gardener for the whole city, too?" Fern asks, looking both surprised and a bit awed; she never thought that a city would give an elf like them that kind of responsibility. It's the wrong conclusion to draw, but not exactly an illogical one; the Chantry grounds are in Hightown, which is about as far as one can get from the Inquisition's headquarters in the Gallows.
Then, deciding to summon up her courage and just Go For It, "Do you need help? With the gardening? I mean--can I help?" This said with another small smile that probably looks more hopeful than she intends it to.
Sina's blush returns; she's never been able to handle any kind of flattery, or... you know, people looking at her that way. She's always been so matter-of-fact about her roles in the clan and the Inquisition, it's hard to see anything exciting about them.
She looks surprised by Fern's question, if only because she can't imagine why that would take so long to ask. "Oh-- always," she replies, "the more people willing to help, the better."
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"Why?" she asks, and, realizing that might sound rude, qualifies it: "I don't know much about them, apart from Anders. They seem a troubled lot."
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(A bit of an exaggeration on the part of Granny Doirnáin, who'd been hunkered down in the back of her laundry during the whole wretched business.)
Gradually, though, Fern's smile fades with some worry. "What's troubled about them?" she asks.
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The last of Fern's smile fades at this, and she looks down at the foliage under her boots for a moment, once again fidgeting her fingers together. That doesn't bode well for her ambition to join them, does it. "Inessa seems nice," she volunteers, trying to catch Sina's eye again. She has nice eyes, Fern thinks.
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Shem'len.
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She seems to notice that she's on the cusp of Getting Weird about dogs, though, and reins herself in. Shyly looking down at her shoes, she admits, "Anyway... Even if they've got their troubles--the Wardens, I mean--I still want to try to join them. I can fight," she adds, though admits uncomfortably a second later, "sort of."
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Sina smiles anyway, not having any idea what collies are, but able to assume they are along the same subject lines. It's then that Fern mentions the Wardens again, and joining them, and Sina can't help but look a bit concerned.
"I'm sure you can," she says with a reassuring smile, "...I've... never been able to, not for the Inquisition." Lightly touching her glowing sternum, Sina hopes that's explanation in itself. "But even if... you don't, there are other ways to stay useful. Like gardening." Her smile grows, a bit of pink rising in her cheeks. Heyyyy join the garden staff
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"Um," she starts, the noise halfway to a nervous giggle. "I can garden... And I know some spells," she adds quickly, "for keeping the frost at bay, if that's needed. Maybe not so much here as in Ferelden, our winters were bitter cold."
What a way to ramble, good job, Fern. Blushing, she asks, "You like gardening?"
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"I'm the head gardener," Sina laughs, amused by the fact that she never bothered to say, and that most people still don't know without being told. "I came to check the fruits here, to make sure they're growing as intended." Here in the crazy magic forest.
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Then, deciding to summon up her courage and just Go For It, "Do you need help? With the gardening? I mean--can I help?" This said with another small smile that probably looks more hopeful than she intends it to.
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She looks surprised by Fern's question, if only because she can't imagine why that would take so long to ask. "Oh-- always," she replies, "the more people willing to help, the better."