Cold upon the mountain

[hlif]

WHO: Asher Hardie; open (npc appearances by The Boneflayers)
WHAT: Asher's fever returns and his crew drag him to the healing tents, knowing it's the end
WHEN: Last week of Solace - mid-whatever August is called
WHERE: Skyhold, healing tents
NOTES: eventual character death; language, discussions about death, violence, faith. Discussions about Asher's childhood. Other warnings in subject headers. Feel free to make your own threads and have them open or closed, the death thread will go up closer to the time! Related ooc post

Asher has known for longer than he's cared to admit so he hasn't admitted it. He's shrugged it off the way he shrugs off pretty much everything else in his life until three nights passed of him coughing and coughing and coughing, keeping his crew awake with it. His chest has been rattling since they brought him back until blood started coming up with it. And now there are wounds cracking open; little cuts that weep for days on end, ugly wounds from the Storm Coast or sparring that feel hot to the touch. (They smell, Amalia had hissed as she'd pressed her hands to his chest over the burn scars to try to force the fever out. Melisende had sworn.)

So they bring him to the healers tents, the sweat rolling off him as he staggers; two dwarves and a Rivaini to help him, his hound with him as ever. The mage in her red leathers explains what she can with a slight elven woman, and the elfblooded one brings up the rear with a hand to his back. They're a constant from that first day to the last, a different combination each time at least one will always be there, stepping out for privacy or finally curling up to sleep.

And Asher...Asher isn't good with this. This isn't how it's meant to be as he presses his fingers into the festering gash over one hip from where a sword bit deep through his armour but the pain only makes him swoon, makes him cough and bite his lip. Doesn't make him focus, doesn't make him want to fight. This isn't how it was supposed to be and for the first time since his mother put him out the house twelve years ago, Asher Hardie is afraid.

It makes him a rather difficult patient, to put it politely.

Comments

[unbrokenoath]

"Can he even reach that high? And it won't be his blood. It'll be my blood, 'cause I killed the dragon myself. That's how shit goes. I'll lick the Maker-damned dragon if I gotta, Asher, that shit'll be mine." She tells him primly, rolling her eyes right back. But he squeezes her hand, and goddamn, her eyes are already stinging. There are more jokes there somewhere, about how she's a Warden, she's already got a death wish, but it falls flat even in her mind.

The hand not holding his presses hard against her upper lip, and she takes deep breathes, but the burning doesn't go away. Well, maybe it'll be okay. It's not like Asher's really in a place to get at her about being a crybaby, is he?

Her head lowers to rest against his arm, because it's not crying if he can't see the tears, right??? Right. That's how this shit works, Kaisa has decided it. For a few moments, she's silent, mouthing a prayer. She knows that Asher isn't a believer, but--well. The Maker loves all His children, and surely that includes grouchy Avvar. If you have to take him, grant him peace, grant him comfort. Please, take away his pain.

"D-Damn it, Asher." And it's impossible to hide the way her voice shakes. "I'm going to miss you."

[hlif]

"He climbs well, taught him like he was my own." Only he's not, Asher's got one of his own but Asher won't be the one teaching him how to climb, that'll be Sigrid, Aura if she keeps making the trips, everyone else in the hold but not Asher who'll be a story he tries to put a face to. Asher's face without the scars, brown hair not blonde. Not that she knows, not that any of them know. Just the hold, just Aura, just the Boneflayers, people who were all there for it. (He can't lie to Aura, doesn't feel right lying to a sweet girl that loves him that much.)

What is he meant to say to her? I'll miss you too? He'll be gone. And he's...he's made his peace with that or close enough, she missed the messiest days when it was hard, when he was chafing at it like it was something he could fight before the acceptance came forth. Before he remembered everything any Thane had ever taught him: that there was always a finger of cold in any tent. The Lady is waiting, and even her patience has limits. Say your goodbyes Asher Hardie, she seems to say each time the sides of the tent move with the wind. And I will take you away from all of this.

"I'll be with my gods. My gods haven't turned their backs on the world or been locked away. My gods are always here and living and watching and breathing. I told you that a long time ago." It feels a long time ago. Last time he was fully healthy at any rate.