Cenn_icon.gif Minea_icon.gif

Scene Title Mourning Comes In Waves
Synopsis Sad drinking on the dock.
Location The Docks
Date 02 Justinian 9:31 Dragon
Watch For Minea talking Cenn out of stupid decisions, sad memories, the Shem knows Elven words?!
Logger Cenn

Afternoon in Kirkwall, and the docks are… Strangely quiet. The whole city has been quiet, really, since the Qunari arrived. Only those who must perform their duties do, all others keeping to their loved ones. Thus, it is perhaps strange that the Knight Lieutenant is out on his own. Out, and not in his armor, no less. Simple street clothes, sturdy boots, a recently purchased bottle beside him. Cenn sits upon one of the docks, staring down into the murky water. His hand is wrapped around a pendant at his neck, pressed hard enough his knuckles are white, though it is small enough to not be seen through his grip.

Minea's not in normal clothes. Unlike Cenn, the woman hasn't left the Hanged Man without her Warden uniform on and her staff. It might be the only thing between her and a creators be damned collar and the rest of the garb that Qunari Mages are laden with. When she thinks of it, there's an involuntary shudder. But Cenn's not alone for long. There's a soft "Laide. Laide. Laide." From the Qarden Mage, striding towards the contemplative Templar, looking at him. Possibly. Maybe.

Cenn continues to consider the water for a moment. When he feels eyes upon him, though, he looks up and behind. He tilts his head, not sure what it is that Minea is saying. None the less, he offers her a small smile. He does try to make it genuine, but the sadness he is feeling doesn't quite let him manage it. His hand falls away from the pendant, and it falls down to his chest with a small thump. A halla, expertly carved of dark wood.

That pendant is eyed for what it is. Curiously one might add. She comes to near the Templar, noticing that he's the one from the square. A pained look, an upheld finger. "Excuse me." Then she's getting down to her knee's on the dock and there's a hiss. 'Laide." Cenn can feel it.

Something crawling along his legs, around the abck of him and then around the other side. Something small. "Don't kill it."

Cenn blinks, tilts his head the other way. Looking down toward the movement on his person, he's more confused that concerned. "What is it?" He says, sounding amused.

"Laide. Literally. A mouse." The mouse. She's named the damned thing mouse. "I apologize. He bolted." and there, on the other side of the templar in normal clothing is a woodmouse, impossibly small, pink nose, large ears and all. "Don't kill him. Harmless. An idiot at times." But what do you expect from a mouse. "May I?" Reach across and get the mouse. Those eyes look to the pendant and then to the human's eyes, then reaches across him to trap the mouse under her fingers, talking to it in a stream of fast flowing words under her breath comparing the brain of the poor thing to that of a fish and chiding it for running off and across afuckign templar. Of all things.

"Oh." Cenn says, laughing a little. "I am sorry, my Elven is… Long out of use." Once, there had been a man who spoke Elven to him. Those days were gone. "By all means." Letting Minea lean over and grab her mouse, he holds still to make it easiest for her. "It is quite alright. I've no interest in killing woodmice."

"You'd be surprised who would" Hands close around the tawny brown thing and once she has him, is crouching and retreating a few steps. "It's a beautiful pendant."

Cenn blinks, so used to wearing the thing he hardly thinks of it anymore. Pulling it forward, he looks down, smiling sadly. "Thank you." He says, and a moment later reaches for the bottle beside him, opens it, and drinks. Quite the afternoon for the Templar.

"Not often, such things are seen on those without the ears." She sits back, opting not to leave. If anything, for hte moment she's far safer beside him than on her own with the Qunari in town.

"It…" Cenn starts, swallows hard, considers how to say the next words. "It belonged to someone I…" Another small pause, "Loved." Seems it's honesty hour. Or he's gone through a lot more wine than this bottle.

She'd bet the wine. The mouse plays over her hands, one in front of the other, letting the march on and on for the mouse and keeping a polite distance from him. "Elven, I presume?" Curiosity getting the better of her.

Cenn just nods, swallowing a knot in his throat again. Another drink, it makes the swallowing easier. This time, when he puts the bottle down, however, it is between the two of them.

It's hesitant. unsure whether the bottle placed between them is a sign or not. In the end, she takes it - the mouse scurries around one hand then up her arm to bury itself beneath her hair - and she's taking a quick swig, then cleaning off the mouth of the bottle. The relief on her face when it's a decent drink and not.. well whatever the hell is sold in the hanged Man. The bottle is placed back down. "So why are you here? In Kirkwall?"

Always that question. It was the Ferelden accent, wasn't it? "I was assigned here after the Battle of Denerim." He answers, the tone in his voice being that of someone speaking of a battle they were present at. He takes the bottle up then as well, drinking. It seems it was, in fact, an invitation.

"Bad luck." Softly comments the young elf. "Enjoying it?" Slight sarcasm.

"I requested it." Cenn answers. Who the hell requests Kirkwall? Either this guy is insane or misinformed.

"Oh, so you are enjoying it." She looks over, one brow ticked up up up. "WHat, in the creators names, did you think when you said 'sure, send me to Kirkwall. It'll be great! I love the horny buggers who pass through!" One hand raised out over the water, gesturing at the sky.

"Not in the slightest." Cenn says, shaking his head. "I came here because it is bad, actually." He says, looking out over the water, the sun beginning to set, and cast fire over the water. "I couldn't help with the rebuilding of Ferelden, but I might be able to help the Circle here."

"Bad how?" The bottle is taken again, a swig, placed back down. "You've come to try and make it better? Or do you come because… you're just what they like here?"

"You've not been down to the Gallows then, I see." Cenn says with a hollow laugh, no humor behind it, bordering on bitter, "I can't explain it to you." The Templar shakes his head. "There's just… So much sadness."

"I tend to avoid there. I haven't been here long." She's a mage. There but for the Grace of the Wardens she wouldn't be here. She'd be com- no, no shouldn't be comfy in another clan as Keeper.

Cenn sighs. "I don't blame you." His hand comes up to the pendant once more, holding tight. A few moments pass, and the Templar tugs on the pendant hard, snapping the leather chord that tied it around his neck. Letting it dangle from his hand, he holds it over the water, watching it swing.

"Don't do that." Minea's hand comes out automatically, grasping at the pendant. "She didn't pass the tests, did she?" Trying to keep him from dropping it in the water just yet. "Was it here?"

Strangely, he doesn't stop her from her grasping. In fact, as Minea takes hold of the wooden halla, Cenn lets go of it all together. Shaking his head, the Templar sighs. "No, I almost wish it had been that simple…" Cenn says, looking away from her, voice breaking some. At least if it had just been a failed Harrowing it wouldn't have been his fault, it would have been something he was prepared for. There's always that chance with Harrowings.

Both hands take the pendant, one hand around the leather strand, the other cups the pendant. "Why did you not bury it with her?"

"They didn't all get graves." Cenn answers, voice heavy with the weight of that statement.

"Why throw it in the water then?" She's turning it over in her hands, looking at it with some small reverence. "May I?" Take it, for some reason. "Give it respect, the same that I give to those who have passed. To remember them."

"He always liked the water." Cenn says with a laugh that very much sounds as though if he weren't laughing, he would be crying. Looking back to Minea, he stares at the pendant a long moment. "It meant freedom, and the impossible, someplace he could never live, but because of that could not actually be denied him by the Circle. If he couldn't have it anyway, it wasn't something lost." None the less, his hand goes out for the pendant again. "But no, I… I can't actually part with it. I think about it sometimes but… I don't actually manage it."

She doesn't give it back. Instead, she moves, rises, shifts to behind him and starts to set it back around his neck, carefully fastening as it should be, around his neck. "When the time comes, when you do need to part with it. Bring it to me. I will put it on my staff. With the remnants of others who have passed. Who's lives are no longer. It will rest with those who are never forgotten." The tattered strips of grey and blue, the odd off colour on it.

Cenn very, very nearly breaks as she puts the pendant back around his neck. He nods. "I will consider it." The Templar says, and then clears his throat. "I… Should get back… Thank you for letting me bother you." He offers her a small smile, and then looks down to wherever her mouse has run off to on her person, "And it was nice to meet you, little one."

"Under my collar, back of my neck. There's a pocket in my uniform there." Tilting her head, baring neck and there, the faintest hint of whisker and disrupted line of fabric. "Makers blessings." Thought not her own personal choice of parting words, he is a templar. No attempt made to get up. Soon she'll have to.

"Cute." Cenn says with another small laugh, this one more real. With a nod, he moves to leave. But not before a parting, "Dareth shiral." It seems his lover had been Elven after all. With that, the Templar leaves. Notably, he leaves the bottle behind.

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