faderift | [open] we sit and grow our roots into the floor

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[open] we sit and grow our roots into the floor

WHO: Cade and his many friends and admirers
WHAT: a dumb sulky baby got hurt at the Winter Palace because he was dumb and now he is sulking about it
WHEN: post-Halamshiral, simultaneous with red lyrium plot hell
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Injury stuff, nothing ridiculous

The Healing Tents

For the umpteenth time in the span of two years, Cade is under supervision. But this time it's not because he was violent-- well... it was, but indirectly-- it's because he got a couple spikes of red lyrium through the thigh after flipping out and battling Red Templars completely unarmored in the Winter Palace.
He ingested red lyrium once before, and from what anyone can tell it caused him to smack an elf. This is a lot more of the stuff, and Cade is notoriously unstable, so he's being watched to make sure it doesn't alter his personality.

He's the first to reassure the healers that lyrium doesn't work like that, you have to take it daily and it slowly builds up in you and so forth, but, you know, caution is caution. He respects it. But he hates being fussed over, so periodically he'll sneak off a small ways just to have a bit of solitude.

Near the Healing Tents, Being a Renegade

Usually this means sitting up on the ramparts and watching people, reading, anything that gets him a little peace and quiet. For someone who seems to thrive on being told what to do, no one can tell Cade what to do and he will be stubborn for as long as it takes for him to be deemed Safe again.

This is pointless.

Choose Your Own Adventure

Whatever else! Hit me up if you want a specific scene, or just start one here and I will accede to your whims.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Within the first day that Cade is in there, a visitor comes while he's sleeping, and has a quiet fight with the healers. Apparently, they were worried about the very elf that he smacked last time triggering another attack. But Beleth is persuasive, and eventually convinces them that she won't do anything that will result in her getting smacked.

Hopefully.

She'll be patiently waiting there until Cade wakes up, a sandwich by the stand next to the bed, indicating she's ready to sit there for a while. Luckily, she has a book, and she reads it while she waits next to his bed, humming quiet.

The red lyrium spikes had to be actually surgically removed from Cade's leg, which was not a quick or pleasant process. It took a long time, several attempts, and even now the healers can't risk magically closing up the gaping wound, in the event that they seal traces of red lyrium inside. It's a mess. It looks and feels horrible, though at least at the moment it is heavily bandaged.

Cade has been blissfully out of it since before this began, at least, and by the grace of herbal painkillers he is still mostly numb. His brain is in that strange limbo between consciousness and sleep, so when he hears humming, some tiny piece of person in the very depths of his brain draws a conclusion.

"Mama?" he mumbles, barely coherent, "can we go home?"

As soon as he starts speaking, Beleth's head jerks up from her reading. A look of worried surprise soon crosses her face, however, when she realizes the mistake. He wanted his mother. Well--he wouldn't get judgement from her, she understood. But--what to do? Ignore it? Correct him?

Looking left and right before slowly scooting the chair up to the side of the bed, Beleth reaches to gently brush her fingers against his hair. She continues it as she speaks, a gesture that she hopes brings him comfort. "Only when you get better. So you have to focus on getting better, okay?" And, after a moment of hesitation, she figures she has nothing to lose.

"I can't stand the thought of you being hurt, you know."

Cade has not actually seen his mother for about twenty-five years, but there are still things that call her to mind-- it's been the same amount of time since anyone has pet his hair this way, or spoken softly to him when he isn't feeling well. It checks out.
"Sorry," he murmurs, "I didn't mean to."

This is probably...not the Right Thing to do. Beleth's aware of that. It's probably mean, to let him think that someone is here, who isn't. But it feels like it would be more cruel to deny him that small bit of comfort. And...a small part of her has to admit that she likes this. She likes getting to dote on someone. It makes her feel useful, wanted--even if she's not the one he wants.

"It's okay, I know you didn't." She whispers, gentle. "I'd never stay mad at you. I just want you to be more careful, okay? Promise me." This...was not how she expected it to go, and there's a strange twist in Beleth's stomach, an emotion that's hard to place, but seems...forboding. Well, when he's properly awake, she'll yell at him.

To be fair, Cade probably won't remember this later, or at least he won't realize an actual person was involved. For all he knows, he's just dreaming about his mother.
He nods, knitting his brow unhappily at Beleth's request, but complying all the same. "I promise," he more mouths than says.

"Thank you." And she smiles, even though Cade can't see it. "You have such a good heart. And I'm grateful for you." And she just keeps stroking his hair, eventually falling back into quiet humming.

As Cade drifts off, so does she, tired from the worry and stress, from spending her time nervously waiting to see if Cade was alright. In the end, she props her arms up on the edge of his bed, head nestled in her arms as she drifts off.

Her dreams are better than last night's.

It's a good chunk of hours later when Cade actually wakes up, and though he's groggy, he's alert enough to notice that Beleth is passed out next to him. He stares at her for a moment, slowly putting his thoughts together, then lays his head back down with a sigh, pursing his lips and deliberating on what to do. Should he wake her? That seems mean. Perhaps he'll enjoy the experience of having someone here for him, just for a little bit longer.

Beleth stirs not too long after Cade wakes up, stretching her arms across the bed with a yawn. Until she bumps into Cade. That's odd enough to make her blearily look up, eyes heavy with sleep, to see what in the world that was--oh. Oh! As the realization of where she is dawns, Beleth pops up in her chair, instantly awake.

Or. Trying to be. Rubbing her eye, she looks around the small area Cade's in, until she finally turns to the injured man.

"Oh, good. You're awake." And then reaching forward, she puts her hand on his forehead, feeling around it, and frowning. "You still have a fever, though. I was hoping it'd break by now. Are you thirsty?"

Cade nods when she says he's awake, not that he feels... that awake. He's groggy, and closes his eyes at the pleasant feeling of her cool hand on his forehead. "I'm fine," he mumbles, even if he is thirsty. It seems wrong to ask her to do anything for him.

After a moment of thought, Beleth decides the question was rhetorical, because he needs to drink water, so he's getting water. She stands up, and disappears for a minute, only to reappear with a pitcher and a cup. The cup is filled, and handed to Cade, pitcher set on the ground.

This accomplished, Beleth settles back down in her chair. "You lost a lot of blood, Cade. You need to rehydrate." There's a pause, and her lips twist. "I hope that you're quite pleased with yourself."

Cade timidly accepts the water and takes a drink, murmuring 'thanks' before Beleth speaks. He nods silently, accepting the first admonishment, though he looks shocked at the second. He looks up at her like a frightened rabbit. "What?" Nothing about this is pleasing!

"I told you." And now Beleth straightens up, energized with Righteous Indignation. "I told you when you went to the vestibule, I knew you were going to overextend yourself--which you did!--and I knew you were going to get injured--which you did!--and I told you not to do it! And you did it anyway! Left me alone in the middle of the Winter Palace with nothing but a dagger and a prayer. I got chased up a bookcase by a bunch of Freemen--A bookcase!--And we both were lucky we didn't die, because you didn't listen to me."

And with that, she crosses her arms, staring at Cade. She knows, in her heart, that she's not being fair. But she feels like she has a right to it. She'd spent so much of that night scared. Scared for Cade, scared for herself, scared of everything that was happening. He can handle a telling-off for it.

Of course, this is all news to him. Cade barely remembers what happened that night, which should come as a surprise to no one, since his little lapses in memory always tend to happen at times of great stress and violence.
...but he still feels bad about it. Cade looks increasingly unhappy as Beleth talks, hunching his shoulders and looking down at his lap, his cheeks beginning to burn. Despite all his slip-ups in the past few years, he's never been dressed down so... frankly before.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs, fidgeting uncomfortably.

Ugh. Ugh, that guilty face. It makes a sympathetic guilt sink into her stomach, and Beleth finds that it's hard to stay annoyed at him, even if he'd left her to get chased up a bookcase. She knows--possibly better than anyone else--what his fits of violence are like. What happens when he gets like that.

"Apology accepted. And--I'm sorry for snapping like that. I just--" She frowns, digging her fingers into her lap. "--When I saw you go to the vestibule, I felt so scared. Not just for me." There's a pause, then hesitantly, she reaches to take his hand. It's a gesture meant to comfort, and to assure--but Beleth still watches Cade's reaction carefully, ready to pull away at the first sign of discomfort.

"A lot of good people died that night. I didn't want you to be one of them."

Reluctantly allowing his hand to be taken, Cade watches Beleth for a moment, then focuses on where their skin touches. It's a foreign feeling, even if it's become increasingly common.
"I'm glad you weren't either," he says without thinking, and stops to berate himself mentally for saying something stupid, whether or not it actually was. "Sorry," he says again, making a face. "I don't... remember most of it." No surprise.

The hand on his taps a finger against him, as Beleth studies his reaction. Before she says anything else, she leans over to Cade, eyes intent. "If I ever touch you, and you like me to stop, just say that. 'Stop'. And, I swear, Cade, no matter what it is, I will stop it immediately. No explanations needed, no apologies needed. I will stop, no questions, and no giving you any flak for it. I want you to feel comfortable around me. I want you to know that I will always stop whatever I'm doing if you want. It doesn't matter if it's just holding your hand. If you want me to stop, just tell me, and I will." It feels repititive, almost silly, but it's something she's taking seriously. And she wants to make sure Cade completely understands.

...She does allow a small smile when he says he's glad she's okay.

"You, ah. You saved me. We were chased by Freemen, and you grabbed me and got me into a room. Then they threw an incindiary grenade in. We had to get out, and one of them grabbed me and dragged me out of the room. Then, uh. You killed him. And the rest of them." Her eyes flick up to Cade, a small smile on her lips. "You protected me. Then you saw Seeker Reed in the vestibule, and went to join him." She raises an eyebrow at him then, but feels like he was adequately lectured already. "...Do you remember dancing with me?"

It's almost more unnerving to be intensely told to say stop than it is to even be touched, but Cade nods quickly and silently. Yes ma'am.
He doesn't tell her to stop, but now he is incredibly aware of her hand on his, and doesn't know if that's a good or bad thing. Perhaps he'll file it away for later.

"Oh," he says faintly, and looks aside, trying to line up his memories with what Beleth tells him. At her last question, he hesitates, but then nods, smiling slightly. It's the last thing he does remember.

"Oh, um--good." The smile's returned for a moment, before her head ducks down. Embarrassed, maybe. Or. Something. It's still nice that he remembers the conversation that they had that wasn't about possibly dying. It's not like anything that went on between them after that was particularly moving.

Out of things to say, she lets the silence stretch on for a while. Then, she glances up again. "Is there anything you want? Any, um. Books or anything?"

She speaks just in time for Cade to not get too anxious about the silence and the touching-- the drugging helps-- and, upon considering, he nods lightly. "Um... books would be great," he says with a timid smile, "I keep finishing them."

"I can handle books. What have you already read? I don't want to give you duplicates." She smiles cheerfully, glad to have an easy way to be able to help him. Then she pauses, studies his face, and withdraws her hand, settling it with her other one on her lap. Her head is cocked to the side as she looks thoughtfully at Cade.

"Whenever I see you smile, it's always...almost like you're unsure if you're allowed to. Like you're worried that you might get yelled at for it. Is that just something you do to me...?" Surely no one had actually yelled at him for smiling, at least lately. But then, that sort of thing can stick with you. She would know.

Of course, the moment Beleth mentions his smile, it drops right off his face. Cade clears his throat and looks away, faced with yet another impossible question.

"..no?" he guesses. He's never had a reason to be conscious of his own smiling, and now he is, so he doesn't know what to do with his face. On the whole, he's not afraid he'll get yelled at, he's just afraid to be happy about anything that could go sour at any moment.

A small sigh follows Cade's drooping face, Beleth's head ducking down. Damn. Well--maybe she can try to use this as an opportunity to try to help him...? Sometimes, you had to be awkward and weird to get things done.

Beleth is...pretty sure that's true. Maybe.

"...I'm just asking because I'd like to see you with a smile that's more...relaxed, I guess. You should try it some time. Unless there's something that you're worried about? I can try to fix it, if there is." She's not sure how, but she is sure that she can give it her best shot, whatever it may be. Until then, examining her hands thoughtfully, she recalls a very vital and important lesson her brother taught her, once.

"What do you call a seagull flying over a bay?" A short pause, and then: "A bagel."

Ba dum tss

Oh no. The more she talks, the more aware of his own face Cade becomes, until he is too busy focusing on what he is or isn't doing with his mouth muscles to even continue listening to Beleth. Does he look like an asshole? Or unnatural? How do you look natural? Does he ever look natural, and is he doing it right now?
He doesn't realize until several seconds after her joke that this is happening, and he snaps abruptly to attention. "What?"

He definitely does not look natural right now, because Beleth looks more distressed as he worries over it, pulling back from him and starting to wring her hands.

"Cade, I'm sorry. I really am. I didn't want you to get worried about it. I just--" She shifts, looking more distressed than the situation probably warrants, but. That's not that unusual for her. "--You look fine, Cade. Your face is fine." She reaches over, and pats him on the cheek. Look, you're fine, please stop freaking out because you're making me freak out.

[open] we sit and grow our roots into the floor

healing tents

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