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WHO: Felix and OPEN
WHAT: A couple of prompts for people who wanted to interact with Felix.
WHEN: The days after the funeral
WHERE: Throughout Skyhold
NOTES: Mentions of death or dying, otherwise it should be okay. Also, please remember the general public doesn't know he has the Blight, they just know that he's dying 'of an illness.'

[Personal Quarters]

Felix spends most of his time in the quarters assigned to him. Some days he finds it hard to walk around much, as the dizziness gets to him. Healers are welcome, as are servants and friends. He keeps the place very clean, worried that somehow the treatments will stop working. He knows the Inquisition is taking a risk having him here and he does everything he can to stop the possibility of spreading the Blight. That includes staying tidy and burning sheets after a fever.

It also means cutting his own hair. The problem is that he has issues holding his arms up for that long. They start to tire and he gives up making the cuts straight or even. He's not trying to make a fashion statement, after all.

[Library]

When he is out of his room, he spends most of his time in the library. Obviously, part of that is that Dorian is there. Being around his friend feels like the way he wants to spend his last days. He had thought going home and trying to help the cause of the Inquisition would have been important, but this feels more right personally.

When Dorian isn't around, he spends his time reading. He enjoys learning about Southern history and can also be seen pouring over any new mathematical theories. It makes him realize how much he misses going to university.

[Garden]

Sometimes he's told he needs to 'get fresh air' and that prompts him to go out and sit at the garden. It's still so lovely to see what a well placed hot spring can do even in the middle of a frozen mountain. The air is still thin and frigid, nothing like what he might have back home, but there's something wonderful about the peace that one can find surrounded by the right amount of trees.

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Ellana explores the library because it's filled to the brim with history of places she's never been and stories that she's never heard. Early on, she learned to avoid most books written by Orlesians, as they usually had the worst things to say about elves, but then she stumbled across some Tevinter texts and those were even worse. It's hard to find lighthearted reading here outside of romance novels, which are good fun, but tend to be embarrassing to be caught reading.

Today she searches for something to help set her off to sleep at night, and her eye catches the pretty spine of a book high up above her. There are vines along the spine and she wants to see if they spread across the front cover, leading her to go up on tiptoe, pulling it out. Unfortunately, someone shelved a book horizontally on top of this book, and it topples out onto her head, making her let out a startled cry. Quickly, she stoops to retrieve it, lest anyone make an ignorant comment about a Dalish elf not knowing how books work.

Then she reshelves it properly, before taking her book and looking for a table to sit at. There's a space free across from a young man, so she quietly slips into the seat and rubs at her sore head.

"Are you all right?" Felix asks. He had looked up when she yelped and was now concerned. When he had been young and stronger he would have gotten up to check on her, but as it is he can only stay in his seat and watch her sit across from him.

He's wearing his thick robes, in part as an attempt to feel warmer. The layers also hides his thin form. They are still Tevinter in fashion, though, which helps set him apart from the other mages.

"I have a potion for pain, if you need it."

She's starting to examine her book of choice --which does have the vine pattern continue -- when the man speaks and she looks up in surprise.

"Oh, no, I'm fine. Thank you." She can handle a simple bump to the head and doesn't want him to go wasting a potion on her. "Are you a healer?" she asks, briefly looking him over. He doesn't appear to be wearing the type of robe a mage from the Circle would, which is a curious thing. Surely there must be some apostates here in the Inquisition besides the Dalish mages, but she doesn't want to assume one way or the other.

He chuckles a bit. It sound is very soft and clearly at his own private joke rather than at her expense. "Oh no," he explains. "I'm afraid I'm a patient more than anything. The potion is for me, for later. I can always get another, though, so I don't mind sharing."

As is her custom when not teaching, healing, or researching Adelaide walks through the garden for a moment of peace. Normally there aren't many lingering at this hour- so seeing Felix does puzzle her- until Compassion gives a nudge. There is pain here, an ache that needs tending. Cautious as not many tend to care to have their aches and illnesses spoken of quite so openly she walks over, voice low. "It's beautiful this time of day, is it not?"

Felix looks up when he's spoken to and offers her a small smile. "Yes," he answers. "It's surprising how lovely things are up here. Skyhold really is a treasure."

It's far more kindness than she expects from a stranger, but it speaks to his character. He sees an elf hurt and wants to help. Already she thinks that she wants to get to know him.

"How kind of you! But I'm truly all right. Just a brief pain, really. That you'd offer it just makes me feel better already. I'm Ellana. What's your name?"

Felix pauses for a moment, because he realizes that many who come here might already know his name as being attached to the Magister that attempted to enslave the rebel mages.

"I am Felix Alexius."

Though she isn't a rebel mage herself, she's been spending plenty of time with the other mages and knows that much. Her pale face goes even paler and her voice is hesitant as she asks, "You are related to that magister? You are from Tevinter?"

"I am, but you needn't worry," he answers quickly, assuming he has some understanding of why she seems so worried. "I disagree with my countrymen on many things, including the way we treat elves."

"May I sit with you?" Forward to be certain but- "Some things are best appreciated in company."

Her lips press together, and she can't help but wonder if he's only saying that because he's here and not in his homeland. Here there are many who would question a Tevinter's views, even if they themselves aren't fond of elves.

A part of her wants to believe him, though; the part of her that's an eternal optimist. And he did offer her his potion.

"All right." She scoots a little closer to the table. "I hope I haven't bothered you by sitting here? You were in the middle of reading something."

Although they have not crossed paths on any of Felix's previous outings, today Nahariel is in the garden, marking out patches of earth with a handful of small stakes in accordance with what seems to be a small scrap of parchment. One of the patches has already been turned over, the revealed soil surprisingly rich looking for the altitude. As the young man enters the area, the elf raises a hand in greeting.

Then she looks at how filthy it's gotten and chuckles, slapping it against her thigh to clean it slightly.

"Afternoon."

You cut your own hair, don't you?

The realisation had come somewhat late, and Dorian's sheer irritation at this fact was probably disproportionate, as if personally offended at the evidence of uneven scrapes of bristle, but more annoyed at himself for having not thought of it. Yes, he'd gotten used to not having attendants bathing him, dressing him, grooming him, but he's had years to grow accustomed to his own independence, and he's not dying of anything.

So it leads them here. Felix is sat on a chair, with a blanket swept up close around his neck, and Dorian has a comb and a razor and some soap he's managed to squeeze out of the luxury rations, and is seeing to the back of his friend's neck.

He slaps the back of Felix's skull with the comb.

"Chin down," he reminds him.

Friendship.

The familiarity is one of years. Long years. A paradox of being educated enough (and careful enough) to not be afraid of catching Blightiness off of Felix, while still paying attention to the measures they go through, of hair cropped close to the scalp, nail clippings swept into the fireplace, rank sheets burned. It's all very tiresome, and Dorian takes even more care not to show it, lest it be misconstrued.

Edited 2015-11-03 08:19 (UTC)

He's trying to be helpful, he really is. He knows Peter is getting more and more annoyed with him, so there's only one real solution: prove that he actually is trying. Which means going to the library and trying to find some books that Peter will approve of, and Gavin will actually want to read.

Unfortunately, most of the books are - well. Impossible, was the word that came to Gavin's mind. He pulled a few off the shelf, helplessly staring down at them, before putting them back. None of them had pictures - they were all just packed with endless words that he could barely made heads or tails of.

Eventually he leaned over to the other man in the library, holding out a red leather-bound book to him. "Could you - ah - give me an idea of the reading level, of this?" He asked a little sheepishly.

As the days wore on and it seemed less and less likely that Ariadne was going to be returning home any time soon, she found herself favoring the company of plants over the people. It was strange, given how much she loved people. But the way they looked at her--being a Rifter and all--made her uncomfortable. It was one thing back home, where she could masquerade as a human in plain sight. But no power here seemed capable of hiding the glowing shard in her palm. And anyway, word got around.

After all, Ariadne was hard to mistake for someone else. With her long hair, braided to her hips and her unusual clothing, she stood out.

To say nothing of her face, which was just a little too smooth to be a regular Human face.

Plants never judged you, though. They were safe and predictable. And the new aromas were fun to explore. Which brought her out to the garden that morning. She was lying on her back, along the length of a sturdy branch in an unfamiliar tree. She liked the way that the branches crisscrossed over her head, like a delicate lattice. Like lace, she decided. Which was one of the most remarkable things about Humans.

Bruce has been down to the Deep Roads before, although he doesn't say it out loud. He's seen darkspawn up close and even fought them (not by choice, he was trapped), and his travels across Thedas has seen people whittling away from the Blight as it eats them up from inside.

He hadn't quite expected to see this here, too.

He knows from a long time ago that there's not much else he can do besides trying to get him to be as comfortable as possible, but Bruce tries anyway. Today is the same, as he carries some tea and snacks on a tray, holding it in one hand for a bit as he knocks on the door gently.

"Alexius? It's me, Bruce."

Eirlys spends much of her free time in the garden, revelling in the peace out here. The clean, calmness of the quiet is something she's most unused to, and something she wants to capture here and bring back with her to counteract the chaos and crowdedness of the alienage. She's knelt down taking clippings from the elfroot she's planted to use it for poultices, trying to make a stockpile of them now while the wounded trickle rather than flow in, and offers Felix a shy smile when she sees him.

"I think this is my favourite part of Skyhold."

He shifted to the side a bit to give her more room. "I would think that depends on the company," he returned, though the jab was meant more against him than her. "I can't think of anyone better to share a moment with than a beautiful woman," he added, in case she didn't get that from his tone.

He shook his head. "It's math theory. One could always use a break from that to speak with a lovely woman." He offered her a small, but cautious, smile.

"What of you? That book looks interesting." He gestured to the vine covered volume she had picked out.

He smiled a bit at the greeting and nodded a bit in agreement. "Doing some planting?" he asked after a moment of watching her.

Her face relaxes and she can't help but smile a little. If she knew that leaving the clan would lead to more than one person complimenting her, she may have done it sooner.

All right, she wouldn't have, but it's nice to pretend.

"Oh, this? I'm not sure. I only picked it because the vines are so beautiful. Let's see." Pulling the book closer, she reads, "Les... Les Trois Soeurs?" She completely butchers the pronunciation. "Or: Legend of the Three Sisters. Oo, a legend. This sounds good."

Felix smiles despite himself and angles his head down. The fact that Dorian is tending to him again makes him feel an odd mixture of emotions. There's the sense of friendship, of course, and appreciation for the attention. There's also a mixture of guilt over being fussed over and an odd amount of regret over what might have been had he not been sickened.

For now, though, he keeps his head tilted down. He doesn't want to make it more difficult for his friend.

"Try to avoid the urge to shave inappropriate designs into the back of my head." He knows that Dorian wouldn't do that so it's more a tease than anything.

Felix is a little surprised by the question, but then he silently berates himself for that. In Tevinter, it's very common for elves to not have the ability to read. Their masters keep them as ignorant as possible.

"What level are you looking for?" he asks as he takes the book to check.

"It's Felix, please," he responds. "And you may come in Bruce." He counters with the request for Bruce to use his first name easily, as if it's not the first time he's requested such a thing. It's weird to be called Alexius when that's how he thinks of his father.

The father who was currently in Skyhold's dungeon.

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library

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Garden

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Garden

personal quarters.

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Garden

personal quarters! hope this is cool

Garden

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yes!