faderift | OPEN: Cloudreach Event

WHO: Anyone at Skyhold
WHAT: Cloudreach showers bring weird shit.
WHEN: Cloudreach 15 onward
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: For information about the illness, its effects, and its cure, please make sure to also read the OOC Post.

This high in the mountains, snowstorms are to be expected. But this one is large and lingering, hanging over the valley and the fortress for days. In Skyhold, with its eternal spring, the snow becomes rain before it hits the ground, leaving inhabitants and visitors to wade through puddles and mud in the courtyards. In the valley, snow and ice accumulate under cloud cover—and worse, when the clouds finally thin, a whole winter's accumulation of snow begins to melt in the sunlight.

Within a day, the ground is sodden and mucky enough to give the survivors of the Fallow Mire (or Ferelden in general) unpleasant flashbacks, and those who live in tents are issued additional hastily-constructed wooden pallets to raise their floors above the mud. It is worse outside the fortress: streams and rivers have overflowed their banks, rapids run twice as fast as normal, and flash flooding has made even road travel treacherous.

On Cloudreach 17 a mudslide buries the pass into Skyhold from the west, and on the 19th a sheet of snow loosened from a mountainside collapses into the shadowed passage from the east. An Inquisition supply caravan is caught in the latter, scattering wagons and goods across the hillside and leaving a dozen people and horses in need of rescue and medical care.

Healers may find themselves stretched thin, as in addition to the usual rash of blisters and sniffles that come from days of rain and flooding, an illness begins to sweep through Skyhold's ranks from around the 16th onward. It's marked first by climbing fever, then by flashes at the edges of vision—green light and jagged formations that aren't there, beings of light and shadow gathering around people or clustering in corners—and distant voices, coherent for brief moments if you're quiet and still and not trying too hard to listen.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Nathaniel has been pitching in with chores all morning, trying to do the things Justice gripes at Anders for doing. He has been getting paler, though, and suddenly makes an excuse, staggers outside, and retches into a bush.

He hadn't had time to truly notice the growing paleness of Nate; everyone in the tent is getting pale as they work. But the throwing up? That's a noise that draws him out of his current task and has him heading out to place a hand on Nate's forehead, cooling and confirming what he'd been afraid of.

"Come back in. Let's get you resting." He's afraid. They haven't lost anyone, but... And that's what he has to remember. They haven't lost anyone.

Justice is the opposite of afraid. He's annoyed. 'Already a distraction. Already interfering. People may die and you will focus on him, one above many. How is that Just?'

Anders is choosing to ignore Justice right now for obvious reasons.

Nathaniel's head is pounding as Anders guides him into the tent.

"Fever?" he asks simply. He'd like to know what he's up against. Then...

...distraction...interfering

He stops cold. "I know that voice."

It wasn't precisely the voice he'd had when he inhabited Kristoff's body, but the voice he'd had in the Fade. The voice he still has. Nathaniel lets out a long sigh and sinks onto an empty bedroll (cots have long since run out).

He's nodding before Nate stops, and Nate gets a pained look.

"Please don't listen to him. I don't care what he thinks about this. He's talking like he always does and it doesn't matter." There's no telling how much of Justice's complaints Nate is hearing, but Anders squeezes Nate's hand tightly to try to get the point across. He's not going to neglect others deliberately to take care of the archer, but he is going to pay more attention here.

Nate gets tucked in as Justice discusses how unwise and wasteful this choice is, how they're there to help all rather than a select few.

"This is my choice, not his. And yes. Fever, delusions, and apparently hearing commentary from spirits and demons. Justice is making a great many fans."

'They are narrowminded and limited.' Or, maybe, they're simply not used to spirits.

A hiss as Nathaniel puts a hand to his eyes. The light hurts them.

"You know, Justice, these are a lot of people trying their damnedest not just to save the world, but to make the world worth saving. That's important to us, you know. No point in beating the bad guys if we're doing the same things they are."

Despite the risk, Anders bends over and kisses the hand over Nate's eyes.

'If the end result was just, then the means were as well. You engage in too many shades of grey when there are none.'

He sighs, crossing to the desk and grabbing a cup. There's no winning here, only more headaches. "Would you like tea or water while you beat your head against the wall that is him?"

"Tea." He doesn't trust most water, as a rule. "Or beer."

Justice's voice is blurring now, less intelligible the more he tries to listen.

"I can't tell if the pounding in my head is fever, or him. Tell him to stay out of human matters so long as he's not a human, thank you."

"Beer is not going to help a fever." He pours a cup of tea and brings it over, gently holding it to Nate's lips. "And he feels uniquely qualified to commentate as he's the experience of two humans. I've tried arguing with him on it, but I've yet to succeed."

'He will never understand.' He doesn't have to, Anders counters. Nate cares and Nate tries, and that's what matters.

"When he's back in the Fade he'll not be making anyone's head pound again. Now drink and try not to get too angry at him, please. He's an idiot in matters like these, but there's little winning and a lot more headache in it for you."

He takes a sip of tea and grimaces, his stomach already rebelling.

"It figures that the one time I can argue with him directly is when I'm already in pain. But you make it easier. You make everything easier. Or better. Or both."

He settles back on a pillow and reaches for Anders' hand, just wanting the contact.

That is the exact opposite of what he tends to hear, and for a moment he can only blink at Nate and take the archer's hand in return. Easier and better. The amount that Nate cares for him is terrifying sometimes, all the more so when he doesn't know how to believe this can last. He trusts Nate. He doesn't trust his luck.

'There is no point in faith in man. They fail. You will fail him and he will fail you if you persist in this.'

Anders leans forward and kisses Nate's hand. He's persisting.

"And here I like making certain things harder for you." He smiles, looking up through his lashes at Nate. "Though right now you need your rest, so easy it is."

"What?"

After he stopped listening, he could hear Justice again. And Nathaniel feels oddly relieved. Is that the worst Justice can say?

"Of course he's going to fail me, you bastard. And I'll fail him. That's no prophecy, that's inevitability. Nothing to be afraid of. Happens all the time. Delilah taught me that. When that happens, he'll have my grace."

He kisses Anders' hand.

"And I hope to have his."

Yet again he looks stunned. One of his greatest fears is that he'll fail yet again and be given up on. If he wasn't already possessed, he'd be greatly worried right now. Desire and Wrath have always been his biggest weaknesses, and this falls strongly under the umbrella of the former. But it's real. Justice's stony, angry silence in his head says as much.

"You'll have mine," he says quietly. He doesn't deserve this at all, this affection, this faith, this man. But he hadn't deserved being locked up, or chased, or having so many people taken from him. Does it balance? Does it matter?

"I..." Anders shakes his head and leans forward to press his temple to Nate's, giving the archer's hand a squeeze. "Can you manage another sip of tea? I saw your face, I know it's not sitting well with you, but you need some fluids."

Looking after someone is far easier and safer than talking about emotions, after all. Especially when the other person is running a very high fever.

"I don't know." Anders being so close is very hot. Very, very hot and sweaty, and Nathaniel squirms away a bit. "I'll try. Apologies if I throw up on you."

He doesn't let go of his hand. Yes, everything makes him hot, but he still wants to hold his hand. He likes this hand. It's one of the few things that doesn't hurt or make him nauseous right now.

"It won't be the first time that's happened."

Nate's hand gets another squeeze as Anders sits up and offers the tea. "I can find it in myself to forgive you. But if you think it's more likely to come up than stay down, we'll skip the tea in the interest of as many fluids as possible."

He wants the man better, not worse. "And if you need anything else, a kiss, a joke, a cat, speak and it is yours."

OPEN: Cloudreach Event

Healing tents

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject