[ OPEN ] We shift and turn and swear and yearn

[fleurdesel]

WHO: Adelaide & you
WHAT: Catch All for the month
WHEN: June/Justinian
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Wine, swearing, PUPPIES, allusions to demonic violence. Prose or Brackets are fine, roll with what you like most. If you want a specific prompt hit me up on plurk @ here!

[ Courtyard -> Stables ]

When her sister wrote 'their arrival is imminent' Adelaide had not quite considered how imminent Juliette meant. Perhaps she might have been better prepared for signing off with the courier when they herd the rather rambunctious litter of several month old mabari pups to one of the few empty stalls in the barn. Playful things that they are- Dennet is a horse master not a hound master and it will be some time before the appropriate point of authority finds their way down to check on the five puppies ready for imprinting or...whatever it is these dogs do- but they will need minding until they are handed off and as she'd had the fortune to sign for them- Adelaide finds herself sitting in the barn, trying to keep the dogs from gnawing on one another, on her, or on anything valuable. Moments like this are a thorough reminder as to why she is a cat person.


[ Library ]

She can be found, as ever, at her table tucked into one of the unoccupied nooks of the library- a cold cup of tea at her elbow, a sheaf of notes she writes and reorganizes- a quill on occasion hovering over a sheet of blank paper and mimicking her notes stroke for stroke so she might produce them in duplicate. So long as she remembers exactly how she's laid out the paper, it works well enough. For questions, comments, concerns, condemnations or complications that have arisen during research she has made herself thoroughly available.


[ Return of the Attache ]

"No." That is all she has to say. No. She won't bother to stop or listen, she won't bother to mind him in the slightest- that same family attache doggedly tails Adelaide about the hold, hovering just behind with a leatherbound sheaf of papers in his hand while he awaits for some sign that she'll take them or at least listen. He spends the bulk of his time holding the odd extra book or pen or, in a singularly distressing moment, a pad of gauze against a seeping wound as she mends a patient in the healing tents. He's a step down from a personal valet- he is not meant to be dealing with literal bloody commoners and yet- this is his life. Someone please help him convince Adelaide to at least take the papers and look at them.


AFTER JUSTINIAN 19th

[ Stairs ]

After the final ritual is all said, done, and finished Adelaide finds she has a wealth of extra time due to no longer needing to spend several hours picking apart what went wrong with the last and what could go wrong with the next- and at least a few hours extra that she'd otherwise spend training with Martel in the evenings due to the incontinence that is her leg. Magic, even hers, can only do so much and the nasty break in that last fight leaves her less walking with the calm poise she's known for and more hobbling from place to place, staff less an afterthought and more a requirement for keeping her weight off her leg. At the moment she's glowering at the stones underfoot as she takes one slow, shuffling step up the stairs at a time. Her research is in the library- and eventually she would make her way there. Just- give her some time.


[ Healing Tents ]

Here, at least, there are fewer stairs. Adelaide splits her time between minding patients and beginning new notations on old research she'd set aside- tending to those she could while moving as little as possible for the first few days. Her humor is...subdued, somewhat, but that is easily explained by the weight of her work of the past months finally catching up now that she is forced to spend less time on her feet. Now and then she might be caught dozing, chin tipped to her chest, fingers still holding the page of her book in place.

Comments

[fleurdesel]

"I cannot promise you will survive- but I can promise that whatever comes? I have been glad to know you." Even if some part of her will always be angry at the man he was before they ever met. "And that my letter, should I not survive, does not end 'civilly yours'. And no matter what happens? It is not your fault."

[justice_is_blond]

"And I you, Ade-ade. Or Lai-lai. I'm not really sure what you'd prefer, though now that the latter's out of my mouth I'm leaning toward the former." The smile's finally there, faint as it is. "Whatever happens is not your fault either, and my letter to you would have ended tidily but there's a paw print there. And a nose smudge. Purrelden's grown fond of you."

[fleurdesel]

"Ade-Ade." She confirms, quietly. "Lai-Lai does not quite fit."

Truly, neither does Ade-Ade but she hasn't been able to get him to stop, and at this point? Does not quite wish to do so. "Purrelden has grown fond of the dried salmon I give her."

[justice_is_blond]

It's a good moment. He hasn't had a lot of those in his life, and he's had disproportionately more of them here in Skyhold than anywhere else. Maybe it's the lack of pressure, or maybe it's some of the people here. Anders rubs his thumb along her finger for a moment before she gets a true smile, a drop of the fear and the shields.

"That must be why I keep bothering you too. The dried salmon. I can't imagine why else I would, certainly not the look that's about to enter your eyes as you jerk your hand back and purse your lips. I hope I'm not being too terribly uncivil, or I might have to go edit my letter."

[fleurdesel]

"Well now I am not going to move at all out of spite, I hope you realize." There is the thought that she should pull her hand back, though. Regain some distance, some perspective. It is easier to remember what he has done and why when she isn't around him. The more she insists that they do not speak of things like the state of politics, the circles, the easier it is to forget what he thinks and feels, his arguments, some of his experiences.

His actions.

She taps his hand with her thumb, idly causing Remi to prrt and follow the motion. "If you are that deeply in need of salmon I've a jar of it somewhere on the side table."

[justice_is_blond]

There's blatant surprise on his face for a solid few seconds before he's smiling in full again. He'd given her the clearest opportunity to pull away and she hadn't.

"Yes, salmon is the answer to everything." What is he even doing, still holding her hand? Feeling. Getting lost in feelings, soon before his death. It's only due to how much he doesn't want to hurt Nate that Anders doesn't push further. She's the most amazing woman he's ever met and it's only when he thinks that that he starts to grasp how much he feels for her. Maker preserve and protect him, he will not think about that, not now, not when there might not be a next week.

Instead, under the cover of being playful, he lifts her hand to press a kiss to it before releasing her and looking for the salmon - Purrelden isn't the only cat with an appreciation for it, and he'll dole out a serving for each feline as soon as he's found it.

[fleurdesel]

He's surprised she's-

Not entirely indifferent, not entirely amused. Drifting vaguely on waves of emotion she cannot quite name and does not truly mean to think too much over. They are friends. It would be easier if they were not friends, if he was someone else, if she wasn't some manner of public official but...they are friends.

The kiss, now, does earn a playful scowl and a tugging of her hand back. "It's behind the honey, next to the embrium paste."

She could find anything in this tent no matter where she is in Thedas. Roul called more than once while she was in the Western Approach to ask after an item.

[justice_is_blond]

"You and your honey. Everything's always behind it. If we... Mm."

He finds the fish and brings it over. Anders has no desire to speak of if they make it. If they do, then he'll find some way to tease with it, or something else. He's not quite sure. In fact, he's sure of very few things. Among them, though, is the fact that he wants to survive, wants everyone involved in this to do so. Her and Nate especially.

Both kittens crowd over and he serves them before raising an eyebrow at Adelaide. "Fish? Or shall we stick to the spiked tea tonight and let them gorge for just a little while before I let you... return Remi to his owner?"

[fleurdesel]

"It has benefits for one's health and improves the taste of many potions." And tea. And she'd never had much honey in the Spire- they did not often have it in the kitchens so what little went around was precious. Here there is plenty and while she cannot stand by and say she wanted for much while she was there-

Adelaide would also not go so far as to say she keeps at least one full jar on hand to make up for the lack.

"Mm. There's a bit of butter and bread somewhere-" She says, rousing herself enough to find the covered plate. Hearty, crusted bread, a knob of butter, dried salmon. It isn't exactly a meal but it's...something. "Roul is busy with doublechecking my notes for the philter. If something goes wrong it shall not be on my end."

[justice_is_blond]

He gives her a nod of thanks for the bread, cutting off two slices and passing the first to her.

"If something goes wrong, I believe everyone knows whose end it will be on." It's said calmly. The mood isn't something he wants to bring down, but the simple fact does need to be said. "The work you've put into this has been hard and flawless, Adelaide."

He passes more salmon to Purrelden, getting his fingers nibbled on. She gets a smile and a chin rub before he butters his bread and gets some fish for himself. "As is, it looks like, the bread. I had--" Anders stops. He doesn't know what happened to Lirene; she vanished around the time his network did. He takes a bite as if to cover up the break, nodding a moment later. "I've not had bread this good in some time."

[fleurdesel]

"If a fundamental conceit of the project is not as it ought to be, it will fail." If Justice continues to wish to remain? It will fail. And then they will both likely die or have to be killed or-

She tops off her glass with a touch more of brandy, putting it from her mind. This is not what she wishes to think. "It is a point of pride to live up to the family motto. Sans Tache."

Without stain.

Impossible standards.

"One of the apprentices has taken a secondary apprenticeship in the kitchens. Apparently being able to rapidly prove bread with the haste technique has earned us the right to fresh bread upon request as it means they are able to produce more and the refugees and soldiers can eat fresh bread instead of saving it until it is hard and stale." It means more work to be certain but it is all the more worthwhile. Perhaps the kitchen might require an expansion in time.

[justice_is_blond]

He's trying to work on the Justice aspect of it. The spirit has to come to see that this isn't working... but Anders doesn't know if he can succeed. He needs to, though.

"I'm just glad that if we had a family motto, I don't remember it." He takes a sip of his own drink before actually doing some thinking, tilting his head.

"Does your apprentice have time to teach that, spread it around? Written down, too." They've talked the future of mages and how he feels practical magic ties into that, before, over a meal that was at times tense and difficult thanks to her family's pressures. "Meanwhile I'm trying to figure out a spell to perpetually heat a rock to work without causing problems. It'd be very useful for roads, or keeping at the foot of one's bed... if I could set a precise temperature. Warm, but not dangerously so."

He may have set a small fire the other day, but at least he'd put it out right away. "Earth is not exactly my strongest suit, though I'm rather good with fire."