[Open] Did Your Mama Tell You About Me?

[meonikost]

WHO: Meoni Kost and you!
WHAT: Catch all for the later half of Justinian, just to get introduced
WHEN: 15th of June/Justinian onward
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Set after she's rescued from Red Templars. Both prose and brackets are fine, present or past tense.

1. Healer Tents, 15 - 22 Justinian

The first few days had been rocky. Between the exposure to red lyrium and various festering infections, Meoni was sure she would die. But the healers were good, or maybe she was just lucky. Whatever the reason, she was alive now, sitting up in bed and carefully flexing her fingers. Her right wrist was infected from the shackles she'd been in. The healers had tried to be careful when dealing with the infection, but her fingers still ached.

Meoni glanced up as the flap shifted, unsure if it was the wind or a healer or a patient. The tent was one of the bigger ones, to account for the space she took up, but it also meant that she was more likely to share with other patients who needed the space.

2. Tavern, after 22 Justinian

Meoni sat in a corner, sipping cheap ale as she considered her letter. She hadn't got very far into it, and spent more time staring off into space than actually writing. She was leaving her mercenary company--and Meoni knew they would let her go, but it was hard to come up with the words to leave the company she'd been with for twenty-five years. Especially after her team...

Right. She needed to send a list of the people who had died--meaning, everyone but her. Meoni's grip tightened on the mug, and she took a few heavy swallows.

"Maker, take me," She muttered, and set the mug down again.

3. Training grounds, after 22 Justinian

The healers hadn't cleared her to fight, or even for combat training, but they had grudgingly allowed her to exercise. If Meoni was being honest, basic exercise was all she was really up for at this point. Even out of armor, she was already sweating heavily after a round of basic training--lifting stones, jumping, and so on. It wasn't that her strength wasn't there, she'd just lost a lot of endurance. For the type of fighting she did, that wasn't useful in the last. Meoni took a pull from her flask, breathing slowly through the ache in her chest. It was going to be a long few weeks, wasn't it?

Comments

[justice_is_blond]

"They'll unfortunately be on me," he says as he returns. It's a safer thing than answering the question, but he can't exactly avoid it. For long. "I'm taken. And I'm... known as Anders."

The smile is a little tense now, as he waits for what reaction is coming. "...I can get another healer if you need that."

[meonikost]

Meoni pauses for a long moment as she takes in the name. Anders. He'd...blown up a chantry in Kirkwall. Killed a hundred people or so.

Their world was full of atrocities. As a mercenary, she had killed many people, but they knew what they were getting into. That had killed so many innocents, and as far as Meoni knew, the chantry didn't deserve that.

"...the Inquisition is letting you heal their soldiers and refugees?" The words are sharp, and Meoni stares him down, heat bubbling to the surface.

[justice_is_blond]

"No, I'm here to hold things." The sarcasm is sharp, edged. "Let's skip the bullshit, shall we? Anything you want to say because you think you've some sort of right to be upset has already been said, you're probably ill-informed, and I can heal you or not."

He's got enough to do with preparation for other matters. Anders has no patience for some new person who is going to get worked up and throw a temper tantrum. Especially a qunari. The only things any qunari had to do with Kirkwall had been to slaughter; at least he'd done what he'd done to save lives.

"Your call on whether I leave now and you get to sit here and wait for someone else, or I tend to your injury."

[meonikost]

Meoni held his gaze for a long moment.

Not your call.

He was a murderer and a terrorist.

Not your Maker-damned call, Kost.

It didn't matter what she thought, he was here. She wasn't stupid enough to think that the higher ups didn't know about it. They'd looked at him and let him in, and even if she disagreed with their reasoning, Meoni had thoroughly proven that her own couldn't be relied on.

"Please." The word was clipped, but Meoni kept her arm out for him to heal.

[justice_is_blond]

He nodded, curtly, before taking her arm and examining the spots that looked too dried out carefully. Some are looking like they could lead to scarring so they get a salve reapplied before he starts to cast creation magic. Just because someone's holding on to anger doesn't mean he'll skimp on her care.

The healing process gets stimulated, skin continuing to regrow a faster and better than it would naturally, but this still isn't over. It never is, with shackles, and for a moment the frown on his lips isn't meant for her. His own scarred wrists, only spotted if she's choosing to pay attention, won't ever be healed of the marks. Hers at least still can.

"I'm going to re-wrap them. The bandages need to stay on for eight hours at least." His tone allows for no arguing. He is a healer.