you still can't look me in the eye

[fightingale]

WHO: Leliana & various!
WHAT: catch all for July/Solace
WHEN: from roughly the 8th on throughout the month.
WHERE: Skyhold, various.
NOTES: set ups all in prose, but will happily match brackets if you prefer them! Open starters and a bit of a timeline on Leliana's health in the post (more to be added as we plod through the month), closed starters in the comments. If you'd like to do something that isn't in the open feel free to get in touch with me via pm or pp @karmacharging!
WARNINGS: Likely reference to illness, attempted murder, actual murder, and the range of terrible things that come with being the Nightingale. Will update as necessary, and endeavour to label subject lines.

OOC Recovery Deets.
After the team returned from the Brecilian Forest on the 27th, Leliana was given a series of potions with the ingredients that the team has acquired. Her recovery was not immediate, given the brutal effects of the poison, but the groundwork was laid. By the 1st of Solace she was able to speak again, although her voice sounded terrible, and some of the scarring had receded. By the 4th she was able to stand, although No One Approved. Since the 6th she has been walking, but only a very little. She normally has to sit in the presence of others, but from the 14th onward her strength has noticeably improved, although she's still thinner than she was before. Report on the Plot here.


OPEN.
8th - 11th - The Rookery.
It is safest to linger about her tower, still. Better that she be seen beyond it and that her recovery be confirmed, and yet if she were to falter or fall or appear weak that would only do harm. Her mind has recovered far more quickly than her body, and some motions still feel strange and foreign. Writing takes longer than it used to, but she is nothing if not determined. A hideous sort of stubbornness has been one thing that has never changed, not since she was a little girl.

She is writing or reading letters and orders and reports near constantly. Beleth and several scouts did much in the way of dealing with smaller matters, while Charter saw to other more pressing matters. Despite their efforts, however, there were a good many things that only the Nightingale could see to.

Pausing in her writing, Leliana flexes her hand, shaking it out a little, before looking towards the staircase. "Enter."


14th - the day after the Snow Battle Royale.
Though she did not stray down to the valley for the fight itself - such a move seemed a singularly poor decision. The Nightingale was not a social butterfly, and though it would have been an opportunity to assert her good health it would have been... inappropriate, she suspects, to attend.

That is not to say she didn't watch from the Rookery, and receive regular reports from her scouts on the progress and any Events of Note, whether they were interpersonal reactions or displays of skill, or just particularly amusing instances of people being decimated with snow.

Now she walks through the valley, observing the remains of the fortresses, still largely intact with the cold that always lingers this high in the Frostbacks, snow and ice crunching underfoot as she moves carefully, curiously, through the field. The cold bites into her lungs, and she swallows a cough that threatens to rattle her back, resting her gloved hand against the polished ice.

Comments

[fightingale]

"Master Kenobi."

Her voice still carries a rasp from the damage that poison inflicted, a strangeness it that results in words and sound rolling from her throat in a way that doesn't seem right, and certainly isn't melodic. She watches him with might be bemusement, or sharp analysis. At least that, her sharpness, remains intact.

"I am sure I can spare time enough for a cup," she continues, faintly dry, "especially with one of those who helped to ensure the Inquisition's safety."

[obi_wanmanshow]

Obi-Wan is placid under her regard, the habit of long years maintaining his composure without thought. Ask Master Windu if he is assessing a threat or merely making ordinary eye contact-- the answer is yes. No less probing is the eye of Master Yoda, watching over the youngest Jedi at their first practices.

That Leliana is more likely to use the skill for death than Qui-Gon was, is semantics; he pours the tea.

"Yes, of course," Far safer to presume it was done for the Inquisition, for both their sakes. And besides, undue attachment is unbecoming of a Jedi-- not that he doesn't consider Leliana something of a friend, truthfully, "You seem well."

[fightingale]

"I am much improved," Leliana agrees, though perhaps that is giving health a little more credit than it is due. She is functioning, she is able to work, but the hours she keeps are shorter. Her body is more quick to betray her, denying her the control that is so essential to her work, and to her own feelings. "Thank you."

For the tea, and the involvement in helping her recovery, and doubtless there are other things.

She takes up her cup, but does not sip immediately, allowing it to cool a moment, and enjoying the fragrant scent of tea and the warmth of steam curling through the air.

"And how have you been? I trust your fellow Rifters are not proving over-taxing in your new post?" The faint quirk of a smile marks it for a friendly question, as much as Spymasters can be friendly.

[obi_wanmanshow]

For a few breaths he simply sits, and smiles at her, a strange, almost wistful sort of smile. It came so easily here, gratitude. Though perhaps that was only, that what he did here was often so unambiguously helpful. His part in the Republic's own war was somewhat messier than this.

Still, it was nice to be wanted.

"I worry actually, that they may not be taxing enough. The Rifters are a disparate group-- no Rifter will necessarily know or trust any other," He sips at his own tea, still hot, eyebrows expressive of his concern, "Problems otherwise important may lie hidden, festering."

Or the might come to a head suddenly, with no foreknowledge. One can only help with what one understands, after all.

"But what trouble there is, that's been brought to my attention, I've been able to manage well enough. Thank you."

[fightingale]

"Of course." She considers for long moments, finally sipping her tea before contenting herself to simply hold it for a while. The curl of the steam over her skin is...

Soothing is too strong a word, yet perhaps it suits. "It is a conundrum, no? How to coax your fellow Rifters into a sense of solidarity and trust when their is little to bind you all together save for how alien each of you are in Thedas. Unity might better prepare you to avoid tensions rising, and yet... there are times when it is calamity that allows the opportunity for people to pull together as they might never, otherwise."

The Fifth Blight had seen it, and the Inquisition embodied it to a certain extent, even with the shifting and adapting still playing out. She smiles, very slightly. "Perhaps it is better to relish the quiet and think it is for the best."