faderift | And as we wind on down the road

And as we wind on down the road

WHO: Open to all
WHAT: The Herald of Andraste is laid to rest, and the remains of the Inquisition try to put on a good face for their visitors. Some of them try, anyway.
WHEN: Harvestmere 26
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: n/a

The day after the mysterious strangers from the rift arrive, the Herald's body is delivered back to Skyhold. At first, there is doubt-- the timing is convenient, finally found the very day the funeral is to take place, and many still cling to hope that the Herald has somehow survived. Most, but not all, are appeased by news that the Inquisition's chief advisers have all confirmed the identity of the deceased. Preparations are accelerated: what was once to be a symbolic memorial now requires actual rites, and while some prepare the body others break down whatever can be spared for the pyre, constructed in the center of the main courtyard by another crew.

The funeral itself is a somber affair, as funerals generally are. The Great Hall has been cleared and swept but little else-- all attendees stand, and they are lucky it is a clear day, since the late afternoon sun streams in through the gaping holes in the roof. The service proceeds along strictly traditional Andrastian lines, stately and stiff. Mother Giselle provides the service and the sermon, focusing on duty, sacrifice, and the Maker's plan and concluded with a recitation of Transfigurations 10:1 by the whole assemblage. It is all very predictable, but sincerely delivered. Cassandra and Cullen lead the honor guard. It is a mismatched collection of visiting dignitaries, suspicious observers, pilgrims, colleagues, and companions that slowly process up to pay their silent respects as Evelyn Trevelyan lies in state. Some may notice that the body has been carefully arranged to disguise the fact that her left hand is gone. As night falls they light candles and then the pyre, and as the flames catch and lick up toward the star-washed sky, Mother Giselle sings a haunting version of the Chantry hymn The Dawn Will Come.

The wake that follows is less staid. It seems as if every table and chair in the castle has been dragged into The Herald's Rest and the courtyards and every hidden store of fine wine and food has been dug out from Josephine's secret stores to impress the more exalted visitors. This isn't just a funeral, after all, but a political occasion, an opportunity to demonstrate that the Inquisition lives on beyond the loss of its first symbolic leader, and that it can still be a force for peace and unity.

That impression is dented as the night wears on, and opinions and stories get shared more and more loudly. Someone hops up on a table to give their own little eulogy and others follow suit. Of course eventually it turns sour-- a templar gets up and starts blaming the mages for killing the Herald just like they killed the Divine, and mages at the next table shout back. He's hauled down before things can escalate, but grumbling and dirty looks are unlikely to be the last of it.

The event carries on into the wee hours, and noise echoes around the stone walls loudly enough to make it difficult for any to sleep early. One team of Inquisition scouts and soldiers comes out of the barn to complain more than once, and eventually move their bedrolls down into a basement hall, growling about how they have to be up at the crack of dawn to head out on a mission to scout some Maker-forsaken bog of all the places. (Mire, one of them corrects.)

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[Merrick is fast. And accurate. Pel doesn't even duck, twisting away from Bruce when he starts to pull at her. Merrick doesn't hit anything by accident. She's splashed by some beer. That's fine. Good for the skin, is beer.

She turns to Bruce.]

Want to get out of here?

[ It's not a waste of ale if it humiliates someone. At least he didn't throw a knife, right? Pel ought to be proud of him.

He makes a beeline for the door as soon as he can, but it's difficult to be completely sneaky when everyone is looking around for who had the balls to throw ale all over the knight-commander. If Stannis is looking at the right time, the fleeing elf can be spotted.

Once outside, he finds a nearby tree to stand near so he can catch Pel on her way out. ]

[Bruce's eyes go wide in alarm when the tankard hits the Knight-Commander square at the back of his head. He has no love of Templars, yes, but that doesn't mean he approved of them being stuck like this because of him. He didn't want to be the cause of anything.

Before he can go forward to try and do something Pel speaks to him, and Bruce turns to her, his expression strained and hesitant.]

I... [The best thing would be to just leave, he knew, but he couldn't just ignore the Knight-Commander when he had been struck like that. He darts his gaze between her and him for a few moments before he forces himself to make a decision.

He wouldn't be able to forgive himself even more if he just left the Templar injured like that.]

You go first. [He says, gesturing for her to make a move.] I'll catch up with you later.

[ He looks to see who had thrown the tankard but all appear to have the same expression. Like they expect him to manifest some sword to cut down the lot of them until the person is found. But he does not do anything of the sort. Stannis reaches back to keep touching his head and glad to find that he's not bleeding, but there may be a bruise come morning. ]

A coward. [ Stannis announces as he leans down to pick up the dagger that he dropped when the tankard struck him. There is a glare that he gives to a few Templar that may feel like they should take this upon themselves to strike at the mages, at the people who hate them, because a Knight-Commander is hit by some childish antic. ]

Are you staying for my sake? You needn't. You took a strike for this elf and ignore her good nature. Twice. You do not read what I told you to write down. Help those that are in need and help yourself. This is why you are but a shield that is easily broken. [ The dagger is tucked away as he straightened his posture. ] It'll bruise. I suspect I shall suffer worse and in that case, you can sew up what pours out of me, then.

You are not my nursemaid, Bruce. Leave if that is what you want, but not because of the actions of the foolish and the drunk. [ A pause as he looks towards the elfin mage. ] That includes you, elf. To bluster so big then run away at the sign of a fight... what are you going to do on the battlefield beyond pick up the dead after you have ran?

You're not my enemy and this isn't a battle. Fuck off.

[If Bruce doesn't want to leave, she can't make him. She hesitates for a bit, deciding if she should leave him, but she should probably go after Merrick if he's angry enough to throw things.]

Be careful, [she tells Bruce before turning away and heading out to find Merrick.]

[Bruce winces - both at the Knight-Commander and at Pel's response - but he doesn't try to do anything to fuel the flames. He simply gives Pel a small nod to show that he's heard her before watching her leave. He'll catch up with her later and make sure that everything's okay.

When Pel is gone he turns back to the Templar again, stepping closer to him, trying to be reasonable in his own response.] It's not about what I am and who you think I should be. [A pause. There are many eyes on him now, he knows, and its really starting to make him uncomfortable. But still Bruce pushes on.] The fact is that you took a bad hit to your head and I just want to make sure its okay. I'd rather check now than later, when the damage is harder to control.

I think that elf will take no advice unless it is worded with sugar.

[ He looks toward the healer as he gives a sigh at the comment the man made. Stannis grabs a chair to take a seat -- perhaps that shall be enough to show that the nonsense of before is over. ]

Think I will die in my bed if you do not check it now? Then go ahead. [ There is a small wave of his hand for Bruce to check him over. ] If you are going to protect a person, learn to stop the strike from coming rather than take the violence upon yourself. You end up doing nothing to stop what you want to end. If you can't do that, let someond who can. Do you hear me or will this, too, go in one ear and out the other?

[With permission given to him, Bruce goes around to take the supplies he had left at the front of the tavern. As he does that the crowd that had gathered is already dispersing, now that the spectacle is over and the ones causing the disturbance are gone. Besides, there are other far more entertaining things happening in the other parts of the tavern.

He returns soon enough with his bag, and Bruce rummages through them to get out the things that he needs.]

Sometimes prevention is not better than the cure. Some people just don't see the folly of their ways until they actually do it. [With a rag in his hand Bruce dunks some ice onto it from the tankards nearby, pressing it onto the spot where the Knight-Commander had been struck.] Are you feeling any dizziness? Shortness of breath? If there's any discomfort at all, let me know.

And some people are fools who would not lean even afterward. These people have been given all the reason in the world to work together yet could not even do so on the funeral of the one who brought them together. If you think striking you would have awoken her senses, you're more of a fool than I thought you were.

[ There is a brief sigh. ] I feel a pain in my neck. [ Was that a joke? It is always difficult to tell with him. His voice quiets some. ] Some dizziness, however, but it would not do to show it. Give them more reason to rally and be inclined to riot. I do not think you are fast enough to stand in front of all mages, so try to keep your injuries to one foolish moment.

[Despite it all Bruce can't quite tone down the bemused sound that escapes him at the Knight-Commander's words. He knows that the Templar means well, but still--]

I'm sure they have better things to do besides burning me to a crisp. [He remarks back quietly in turn as he uses his free hand to take out a draft that he passes over to Stannis.] It's probably a minor concussion. Drink this and I'll apply some poultice to handle the swelling.

Like they have better things to do than make a mockery of a wake? Like they have better to do than threaten mages? Threaten Templar? Incite violence upon those simply affiliated with either side?

[ His words are overly articulated as he glares ahead of himself. No, he will grant no quarter. Here above everything is when they should have come together. As little as he cares for funerals, for the worthless words Mother Gisele spilled, he knows others find solace and peace in them. Yet they found anger and blame. ]

Fine. Then go ensure that elf mage has not gotten herself into trouble because she thinks herself above everything when she is wallowing as much as these people here. And keep yourself out of being struck and being her human shield. If you can do that much, I shall reassess how useless you are.

[Bruce doesn't say anything to that because the answer is clear to the both of them - sure the Templars and mages are turning on each other once again, shouting and blaming one another for something beyond either of their control. Their actions are understandable, but it doesn't make things any easier to deal with.

He takes out the poultice that he needs for the occasion, gathering some onto his hands before he starts to apply it carefully at the area where the Templar was struck. It has a faint smell of mint and rashvine, leaving behind a cooling sensation that seems to sink through the skin. Bruce puts as much as he can without it dropping, then gets some bandages to hold the poultice in place.]

Just let it sit there for a while and rinse it off before you go to sleep. [He says as he wraps the bandage around the Knight-Commander's head.] It should be better by tomorrow. If not, come and find me and I'll look at it again.

[ There is some muttering that he does before drinking what has been given to him. He sucks on his teeth as the bandages are wrapped about his head but continues to give a heated glare at any that should look his way and assume him unable to do more than sit where he is.

As soon as the bandage is finished being gied, he makes a waving motion with his hand. ] Now. Go do all I told you. As well as accept the help of others. Continue to be difficult and know we do not need a healer here who can follow no rules. I would rather yout die far from Skyhold as that is what will happen if you continue. Useless shield.

[The Knight-Commander waves him off once Bruce is done bandaging him up, and as much as Bruce feels like he should stick around a bit more to ensure that the Templar is truly fine, he also knows when somebody's patience is wearing thin.

He uses the rag he used on the Templar earlier to wipe off his hands once he gets rid of the half-melted ice, holding it still after that so that he can wash it later. He packs up the rest of his items back into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder and glances at the Knight-Commander. The side of his head throbs again, reminding him what he still needs to do.]

I'll try to check up on you tomorrow. Don't try to do anything that will aggravate the injury more.

[And with that said Bruce makes a haste retreat out of the tavern, more than ready to hide away from all the eyes and murmurs surrounding the entire incident.

--that is, after he goes to check up on Pel and that other elf.]

[ Merrick is out there waiting for Pel. Immediately upon seeing her, he grabs her by the arm and pulls her close so he can look her over. His jaw is tight, biting back hard on his anger. ]

Did he hurt you?

Edited 2015-11-01 09:44 (UTC)

No.

[But she is starting to feel that hit to the chest, especially when trying to breathe. She resists touching her hand to where it hurts, but her breathing comes shallow and her movements are stiff.]

He was insulting Bruce, though. Bruce took a punch for me.

[SPEAKING OF BRUCE here he is, coming out of the tavern, looking a little more haggard than five minutes earlier but generally alright.

He quickly spots Pel and another elf she is with and heads towards them, glancing at the both of them with a fair amount of concern.]

Are you alright? [He asks Pel,] Nobody else gave you trouble, I hope?

[ Merrick notices Pel's labored breathing, her rigid shoulders. He doesn't let her go, still gripping her arm to keep her close, ready to step in front of her at any second. He believes Pel, but that doesn't make him any less angry. He glares at Bruce. ]

You almost gave me away, you blighted fool. I ought to punch you too.

Edited 2015-11-02 02:03 (UTC)

[Pel holds tightly to Merrick.]

No. He put himself in front of me when a templar was attacking me. A templar. He's a clumsy shem, but he protected me without even thinking. He's good.

[Bruce takes one step back when the other elf rounds on him, mostly because he's trying to avoid any kind of confrontation rather than being scared.

Fortunately, Pel speaks up before the situation can start to escalate any further.

(He's not sure about being called a 'clumsy shem', though. More about the 'clumsy' part than being a 'shem'.)]

I'm sorry. [He's quick to apologize, not wanting to further rile up the other elf.] I didn't mean to give you away - I just didn't want more people getting hurt.

I would never hurt Pel. And that bastard deserved it.

[ Had the Knight-Commander been the one who tried to hit Pel? If it was, then he deserved far worse than a hit to the back of the head with a mug of ale. ]

Who are you anyway?

A healer, lethallin. A gentle soul. We can trust him.

[She still clings to him, although her voice has gone gentle. Soothing.]

[Well, that's not entirely what he meant, but--the Knight-Commander isn't exactly the most pleasant individual either. Not that he supposes this is a good time to really argue about this.

He inclines his head, trying to be as polite and as respectful as he can manage. Last thing he wants now is to further offend the other elf.]

You can call me Bruce. I work as a surgeon within the Inquisition.

[ Merrick completely ignores Bruce and his introduction for the moment and turns to Pel. ]

How did all of this start? Tell me everything.

That idiot templar who was blaming mages for the Divine's death. I tried to leave, and another templar assumed I was a mage. No, I won't say who. She stopped me at the door. I told her if she thought I killed the Divine, she wouldn't stand in my way. She hit me in the chest and when she swung again, Bruce was in front of me.

[She doesn't mention Bruce came in a little earlier than that. Merrick might decide Bruce exacerbated things by interfering.]

That's the extent of it. The other fellow just butted in and threatened to take off the templar's fingers as punishment. And flung insults at Bruce for not defending me properly, in spite of being a surgeon and not a soldier.

Edited 2015-11-02 14:05 (UTC)

And as we wind on down the road

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