@oholyvile liked this
Tevinter was a strange place. Though Aoife had heard tales no of them quite captured just how strange and different it was to Ferelden and Orlais. From the moment she’d crossed the border the little elf had felt like she’d stepped into a different world entirely. Mages here were revered instead of feared. They were the ones in charge of everything. Of course that meant little for her, even though she could use magic she was still an elf and more so here than back home that meant you were at the very bottom of the food chain.
So she’d moved from house to house working where she could, still keeping her magic secret, and trying to stay away from the slavers. For the most part, Aoife was able to stay under the radar. Though perhaps this last job hadn’t been the smartest idea. She was currently working in the kitchen of the Black Divine himself. A mere assistant, but she was usually left to start things on her own early in the morning when she had proved herself capable.
It was one such morning that she finally came face to face with his Holiness. Aoife had entered the kitchen early to start on breads and pies. She was humming to herself as she kneaded the dough, flour was smeared on her face and up her arms hair pulled up in a messy bun. Turning towards the oven, she didn’t think twice to use her magic to start the fire in it. It was a practiced move, one she’d done a million times before when thinking she was alone.
It wasn’t until she turned back around that she realized her mistake. The color drained from her cheeks instantly. “I -- I --- you’re Holiness.” Aoife immediately bowed low, her accent coming through even thicker in her panic. How was one even suppose to act around a Divine. “Forgive me, I didn’t expect you.” Her eyes darted towards the fire she’d just made and back to him before looking at the floor. “I can explain....”















