“None are a hindrance to Andraste’s grace, my lady. She would likely welcome you into her fold so long as you are comfortable.” He stated with a gentle nod of his head, though as they stood before the extensive incline of stairs leading up towards the enormous golden double doors, Sebastian turned his eye unto the woman at his side not only in curiosity, but in confusion as well. Sure, there were many who knew not of the Chantry’s influence let alone what it stood for, but more often than not they were beyond reach of any densely populated areas in Thedas. The Chant of Light reached many corners, though still not all it seemed, as the fiery-haired woman seemed to know naught of the structure she stood before. Nonetheless, she accepted the invitation and began her ascension towards the Maker’s distinguished home.
“You are not Andrastian,” he commented once she had taken his hand and they began their short journey up the lengthy flight of stairs. His bright eyes shifted down towards her grasp only to juggle her appendage into that of his other hand. He knew not of the injury she sustained, though her struggle up the steep steps was evident. While Starkhaven’s prince had no intention of prying, he was determined to help, and with little to no warning of his actions, his newly freed hand closest to the maiden pressed against her waist in attempt to help guide her up the stairway. This way he served more as a crutch than a guiding hand, and considering her earlier haste, he assumed that his attempted assistance would definitely be best.
“Fear not. None will look upon you any differently. Grand Cleric Elthina will at the very least shelter you until you feel to be well enough acquainted with Kirkwall or determine whatever your purpose here is. She is a busy woman however, so the sisters of the Chantry will tend to you if you require anything.” Sebastian paused in his speech as they reached the landing before the doors of the Chantry, and only then did he release her to step forth with the intent on opening one of two doors for her, though before he proceeded to do so, the archer turned back to the woman now only a step or two behind himself. “And or myself if you would allow it, or prefer.” He added before ducking his head and tucking his arm beneath him in a low, gallant bow.
“Pardon my ill manners. The Grand Cleric would be ashamed knowing I’ve yet to introduce myself. I will admit, her disappointment is one of the more terrifying things I’ve ever faced,” he admitted almost sheepishly, laughing softly under his breath at his own stupidity before proceeding to formally acquaint himself with the woman before him. “I am Sebastian Vael, prince of Starkhaven. Though if you please, Elthina will want to know of your presence.” Fearing that requesting her name in turn would be considered out of line by the woman of assumingly foreign roots, Sebastian finally held open a door and shepherded the currently-nameless woman into the safety of the Chantry’s walls.
Pain was something she had been accustomed to for some time. One had to wonder what blemishes marred this canvas of alabaster flesh. Sarah, most of the time, ignored what she was enduring, until it came to performing certain tasks - for instance - walking these flight of stairs. Every breath was taken in fully to fill her lungs but escaped ragged as she concealed the sound of hurt.
Now, not once did she believe this kindhearted soul was foul in his manners, on the contrary, she was pleased with how he handled her. Not many would respond well to some strange woman, whose hair resembled fire caught in the wind and who easily took a hold of their hand as if they were already established friends. She didn’t have the face of a madwoman, but her behavior was rather curious. But perhaps that was a give away, along with her unfortunate amount of knowledge regarding the Chantry.
“You’re correct,” the voice left a tad more seductive than she initially intended, for her purr was accented in the rolling of the R’s. “Pardon, I meant,” she closed her eyes tightly and started over, “You’re correct, sir. However, that does not mean that I am not interested in the teachings, for I respect other religions and enjoy knowing more about them - even if I choose not to convert.” Yes, Sarah, wasn’t going to hide the fact that her beliefs belonged not to the Maker but other deities from times of old. While he assisted her further, she fell silent, only taking in how gentle he had been throughout this entire ordeal.
“I do not wish to bother them so much, for my needs are not critical, however, I could be easily convinced if it were to be you who would tend to me,” no matter what affliction she was undergoing, Sarah always could fit a bit of jest and teasing to mingle its way into conversation.
But just as she was growing comfortable in his presence, his introduction caused her blood to run cold. Prince? A prince?! Suddenly, her hand jerked away as if he was too hot for her touch and the hand fell to her chest. She had not meant to be rude, but if she had known he was of importance, this could have been avoided. This was not the proper time to panic; first things first, she had to clear herself away from the potential danger she was facing - for dodging Templars had become far more troublesome that she would have expected it to be.
Thus with a bow of her head, the maiden clad in dull tones, offered him her most polite smiles she could muster, “Sebastian Vael,” fingers that once touched him now rose to brush her lips, where she tried to appear as if concealing a smile. Truth be told, she was terribly embarrassed Sarah herself was from the Court, though she withheld using any appropriate titles to address herself with. . for here, it was not valuable when it came to her survival. It was best to reveal as little as possible, “I would hate for you to enter without any knowledge to provide Elthina,” gentle fingers fell from her lips so that he may hear her clearly.
“Sarah, Sarah Fanelia,” no High Summoner title was attached on to that name, no Lady was added before it. Simple and sweet, she thought it would suffice as he guided her in. But, before she even entered, wide eyes of sea green had glanced past her cloaked shoulder to steal one look at the Templars searching at the base of the stairs of this Chantry. A victorious smile tugged at her lips as her gaze narrowed in their directions. For now, she had won - but she didn’t know how long she would celebrate her success. But she didn’t let that ruin the moment, Sarah one, Templars zero.
