faderift | OPEN: Cloudreach Event

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

Maybe it was him bossing her around like a brother? He isn't quite sure why she would suddenly think of her best friend/brother besides maybe something like that. Whatever the reason, Sam smiles as she rambles with her logic about marriage and brothers.

"I take it this Ron is someone you fancy then? Plan on marrying him?" She did say 'if, but by the way she's talking about it, it certainly seemed like she was actually considering it. He allows for Hermione to walk on her own, though he makes sure to keep an arm out just in case. Slowly but surely he gets them to the great hall, directing her towards one of the fireplaces so that she could warm up.

It could just have been something as simple as Hermione being used to only one dark-haired boy helping her out, and the idea of there being another one out there is a bit unfathomable. Whatever the case, she looks up at him with no small amount of surprise when he asks if she fancies Ron; considering making herself a Weasley to become Harry's sister is one thing, but actually fancying someone....

"What? No! I mean-... it just makes sense, because Harry is involved with Ginny, and Ron and I are so close. But we're not-... I wouldn't say we're-...." This sort of thing hurts her head when she isn't sick, and so all she can do at the moment is huff sheepishly. "We have too many other things going on in our lives right now to think about anything like that."

Despite how Hermione was looking, and probably feeling, it was amusing to see how lively she got at the subject. If it weren't like that it would have been easy to just say it wasn't, but Hermione seemed to be getting a little defensive? Usually that meant that something was going on. It was rather cute to see her huff as she did.

What Hermione says next has Sam letting out a long sigh, understanding what she means. It sounded like things in her world were no better than here, but here people were both seeking and looking away from such things. For Hermione though it had to be much more rough seeing as she was separated from her friends and family, being tossed into a war.

"Alright, alright. You don't fancy him," he chuckles lightly, edging her closer to the fire and to grab a seat. "Well you must like him a lot regardless if you're willing to marry him fooor... Harry and Ginny?"

If Hermione weren't already flushed from whatever it is that's whittling away at her immune system, she might have been blushing. She's generally very private when it comes to romance and such; it's one of the few things she generally doesn't even discuss with Harry. So to just blurt something like that out in front of someone that she doesn't know very well....

"I only said if we married, not-... it's not like that with us." She's not quite sure what it's like, really, and she chews at her lower lip a bit as she tries to figure out the best way to explain it, and whether she should explain it at all.

Carefully setting herself in front of the fire so she wouldn't fall face-first into it, she eventually tells Sam, "He's my dearest friend and - ... we did kiss, just the once, but it hadn't been the best time. So now that the war is over, I've gone back to school, he's training to be an Auror, and if we still feel like more than just friends after graduation, well... we'll see how it goes." Of course, neither of them had figured a detour to another world into their very logical plan, so now she has no idea what to make of things.

Once Hermione looks like she's safely on the floor Sam settles himself next to the fire as well, making sure to stay close, but giving her a bit more space now that it was less likely for her to fall over. He's not sure what an 'Auror' was, but he suspects it was something mages in her world aspired to be - he didn't need to know the details now. Even so, he's smiling, rather enjoying the conversation, having not expected to get to know this much about her personal life.

"That's all that anyone can do, right? See how it goes?" The smile saddens a bit as he continues to keep an eye on her. "He must be worried sick about you. I'm sorry you got dragged into all this."

While Hermione isn't necessarily a private person, she doesn't generally talk about the parts of her life that are deeply rooted in personal emotion. Mentioning more than Ron's name had been off the table for some time, and she avoids talking about her parents during the war; if there's a sure sign that she's sick, it's the fact that she's actually kissing and telling, something that had always made her roll her eyes when the girls in her dormitory did it.

Quiet for a moment, Hermione suddenly realizes, "Depending on how far he and Harry may have gotten in their training, they might be part of an investigation to look for me. They probably think Death Eaters took me. I'm still not clear on how I got here, but... I hope they don't fall into a rift. That would be awful." Even if she would hug them tightly enough to crush a few ribs if she ever sees them in Thedas.

Hearing about others getting pulled through a rift, Sam nods in agreement that it would be awful. He's sure Hermione would love to see her friends again, but it would be much preferred if it was back in her world and not here. "Death Eaters?" he asks, leaning in a bit with curiosity at the name mentioned. The name was obvious that they were something you did not want to deal with. "Are they known to do that?"

"Are they known to-...? Kidnap, or eat death?" Shrugging a little, she answers her own question and murmurs, "A bit of both, I suppose."

Shaking her head against the fog that threatened to settle in over he mind, Hermione explains, "They don't matter anymore. They were followers of Volemort. Our version of Corypheus. Now Voldemort is gone, and when Corypheus is gone, his followers will try and pull stupid stunts like kidnap people or make demands and no one will listen."

After a pause, she adds, "Of course, I wasn't actually kidnapped. Probably. This could all still be one large hallucination."

"We do not know what Corypheus' followers will do once he's gone. I'm sure the Inquisition will deal with as many of them as possible." There would be a lot of clean up to do, and surely the Inquisition would still be around to deal with it all.

At the mention of a hallucination, Sam raises his hands and lightly pats his body. "I don't feel like a hallucination. An odd place to imagine if you were though." Leaning forward on his knees a bit he tilts his head. "Are you feeling warmer, or dryer yet?"

Rather than directly reply to anything he says, Hermione looks at Sam when he feels around to see how solid he is. While it usually would have made her smile before brushing it off, she instead reaches out herself, hand moving gingerly about his torso before settling on his chest.

"I feel a heartbeat. I think that means you're real."

Suddenly realizing that she'd just run her hand along more of a man's body in the past few seconds than she had in her entire life, she looks down sheepishly, her hand dropping away. "Sorry. Was I cold? I didn't notice."

Being touched is a rather normal occurrence for him, between taking care of patients, sparring in the ring, and in general having friends who were rather handsy. Even so it is a little strange to have Hermione touching him, simply because she didn't seem the sort who went about touching people like this. Not that it was a bad feeling, but just most curious. What she says though has him smiling, raising a brow, more so when she becomes shy.

"You most certainly were. Cold and wet." Reaching out he lightly places the back of his hand on her forehead, frowning some. "Not so much cold now, but you're burning up." Even if he was natural warm, he could still feel the fever. "We should really get you to your room and have you change."

Hermione would have been more aghast at the physical contact had she been well enough to go through her normal range of emotions. As it is, she only knows that they're not nearly close enough to warrant even the normal friendlier sort of touching, like hugs or resting against each other's shoulders. At least, as far as her own personal timeline goes, she's usually much more reserved than all that.

"It's the fire," she tells him, gently trying to brush his hand away from her forehead. "That's all. Besides, I'm used to being cold. It's always been a bit drafty in here. Must be all the holes in some of the walls." Which was why she didn't really have a room, given that she usually falls asleep in the library and only occasionally finds herself in a spare room too decrepit to really call her own.

Sam allows for his hand to be brushed away, but the look he is giving her makes it clear that he doesn't buy that 'it's the fire'. He's a healer Hermione, used to seeing sick folks, and you're plenty sick. It's less comforting when he hears that she's used to being cold, but the holes in the walls are a reasonable excuse, even if he doesn't like it - hopefully they will be fixed soon.

"If you want... there is space in the room where some of the younger mages sleep. It's just a bedroll and not a huge amount of space, but it's safe and, most importantly, warm." It was a spot they kept reserved for him which he used a lot earlier on, but lately he'd been sleeping there much less unless one of the children specifically asked.

Hermione shakes her head, though that immediately proves to be a bad idea when she gets a bit dizzy. Well, dizzier. She'd already been dizzy.

"I really should be helping the other healers," she brings up, pure stubbornness the only thing driving her by this point. "They need the most help at night. I know I can't do healing spells the way I used to, but having someone around to fetch water or hold someone's hand helps in a different kind of way."

"Hermione, you probably are as sick as you are because you've been pushing yourself to help. Yes, the healers have a lot on their plate, but we are getting by. It's appreciated, but pushing yourself to the point of collapsing isn't going to help anyone, least of all you." They were not so bad that they needed someone gathering elfroot in the middle of the night, in the rain.

"We are also cutting back on giving people water at the moment. It seems there's something in the main water source causing the strange illness."

"You don't understand," Hermione insisted, trying not to get tearful with how frustrated she was. "I can help. I can generate fresh water, and I can make waterproof fires to withstand the rain. I can't heal or make some of the potions I'm used to making or go out and fight to keep people safe or-... or-...."

Sniffling a bit either from repressed tears or from being sick, she continued to shake her head as she told Sam, "I can't just sit aside and be useless. This place has already taken half of my magic from me! I can't just let myself be worthless, too!"

Sam sighs softly when the wetness around the corner of her eyes and the sniffling sets in. Reaching over, setting a hand on Hermione's shoulder, half to get her to stop shaking since that seemed to only make her dizzy, and the other to be reassuring.

"Hey. Heey- You aren't worthless nor useless. You're helping out a lot. I'm not telling you to stop, I'm just asking that you take a break." Another sigh and rubbing a hand tiredly over his face. "I do understand. Really. 'If I can just heal one more person', 'Just another hour and then I'll eat', 'I can go a bit longer without sleep'. It's hard to take a break when you know you can do something, but you have to remember that if you push yourself too hard now you won't be helping anyone later. This is coming from a guy with a spirit of Fortitude hanging around him - I'm always being pushed to do more." This was not even mentioning the shard.

Hermione doesn't hear half of what she says, not really. Her head is throbbing and she's filled with a sense of embarrassment from breaking down for what's likely a stupid reason, all things considered. But she does know that he's spending a large amount of time on her, on helping her feel better when really, she's not actually sick, just a little under the weather, and she should be all right. The fact that she was waist-deep in denial has little bearing on anything.

Looking down and wrapping her arms around herself, she murmurs, "Just let me stay here by the fire for a bit. I'll warm up some, and then I can be useful again. You'll see." Stubborn Gryffindor pride was a hard thing to be rid of, even when she wasn't in Hogwarts anymore.

Sam sighs a bit at that. He had been hoping to possibly get some rest, but it seemed like it was going to be another all nighter. Hermione really needed to rest, but her stubbornness wasn't going to allow it, and he couldn't just let her go off on her own.

"Only if you promise that on the next shift that you'll go and get some rest. That and if you start collapsing you need to stop." Honestly he should just send her off on 'healer's orders', but he has a problem in telling people 'no' unless it is definitely necessary. With this he's giving Hermione a bit of space, but she does need to worry about getting herself better.

Even with everything going on and with how generally awful she's feeling, Hermione hears that sigh of his and can't help but feel as though she's disappointed Sam. Even now, she doesn't like the idea of disappointing anyone, and she wilts a little bit, wondering if she really is being stupidly stubborn about all of this.

Wiping at the remnants of tears still on her face, Hermione looks down, unable to look up at Sam. "You don't have to worry about me," she murmurs softly. "Just go do whatever you have to do. I'll be all right." Assuming she can even bring herself to move from the fire if Sam leaves her; otherwise, she might just be camping out on the stone floor and resigning herself to a sore back whenever she's well enough to feel that sort of thing again.

Honestly she was being ridiculously stubborn, but Sam wouldn't say that he's disappointed. There are too many of his friends doing the same thing, and besides it wasn't like he wasn't doing the same thing. Difference we he was being careful and considering it.

"You know, telling me not to worry just makes me worry more." He smiles slightly at Hermione, even if she isn't looking at him, and he continues to hold that look until she actually does. When it doesn't look like she's going to move right away, Sam lets himself lay back on the floor, getting comfortable. "Just... let's just take some minutes to get back up to speed, alright?"

She's about to apologize for telling him not to worry, in that case, but then she notices him lying back, and she's a little surprised. The floor might be good enough for her if she happens to doze off, but if Sam has the means to get a more comfortable sleep, he should go do that.

Hesitating for a moment, Hermione awkwardly moves to lie besides him, a hand reaching out for his arm. "You don't have to take care of me, you know," she tells him, though given the wry quirk of her lips, even she understands that it isn't as though he's the sort to abandon anyone who looks to be in trouble. "Besides, spending all this time with a sick person just makes it more likely you'll get sick. So either you should take care of yourself, or you have to admit that I'm not as sick as you're making me out to be."

Sam gives a hum in response to the touch on his arm, signalling that he was listening. The floor wasn't his preferred place to rest, but it was warm by the fire and he's slept out in the woods and the like before - he'd live.

"I've been spending days around sick people, Hermione. I don't think spending time with one more is going to change that." He doesn't look at her, eyes closed, but there is a grin pulling at his lips tiredly. Not going to get out of it so easily, but good try. "And I do take care of myself, but I just go about it differently. It's a little bit more demanding for me though, as it is for a few others. Being a Spirit Healer, you have to push yourself more than others. So it's easier if everyone takes care of themselves, and doesn't push themselves too much, because then there is less for us to take care of." He's trying to tell you to get some sleep and get better, Hermione.

Hermione's hand slips away, mostly out of petulance as she turns to lie on her back. "I'm not sick," she insists once again, though even she can't help but notice the childish tinge to her voice.

Her attempts to carry on a conversation could well simply be a sign of her stubbornness, but more likely than not, Sam just keeps making the mistake of telling her things that incite her curiosity, even under these less favorable conditions. "Why does being a Spirit Healer make things more demanding?"

Hermione isn't the first person that's he's met or dealt with such a stubborn streak, especially during all the illness/sickness going around.

There's no mistake in saying what he does. Even if Hermione isn't getting rest, at least she's staying by the fire, and laying down, relaxing. "Well it's mainly because we have spirit partners to help us with our spells, primarily healing. We can heal better and more efficiently because of them. So of course a group like the Inquisition will put that to use."

OPEN: Cloudreach Event

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