i tried to write your name in the rain

[elegiaque]

WHO: Gwenaëlle and YOU.
WHAT: A catch-all for the month.
WHEN: August.
WHERE: Skyhold.
NOTES: Closed starters in the comments - hit me up at matriarchal or demis#8828 on discord if you would like to do something with Gwenaëlle!

Comments

[thecookery]

This time, Avery actually looks over properly at the sharp tone and returns Gwenaëlle's frown. "Not really... I just decided to take a bit of a break, and you were sat by yourself."

That's what people do in these kinds of situations, right? Exchange some words? Try to be, like... nice to each other or whatever?

[elegiaque]

"Yes, I was."

And then a strange woman sat down and started talking to her about how Asher's death is a right mess and it would be difficult, at this point, for Gwenaëlle to look less welcoming or more unfriendly.

"As you don't require anything and I certainly have not asked anything of you, I can't quite understand why you are still here."

[thecookery]

"Neither can I," Avery grumbles and rubs at her eyes. Ugh, this is why she doesn't like to do things like this! She only ever makes things worse. And yet sometimes she can't stop herself. "Just... being in this chair is shite. Especially when you're sat by yourself."

So maybe... having someone else sitting nearby could make it a little better? Even if it is the literal worst at this.

[elegiaque]

Life is hard when the majority of servants milling about at any given time do not, in fact, answer to her; in general it means being more independent than she's entirely accustomed to, saving requests 'til they're something she needs instead of something she just wants, delegating to Guenievre what she doesn't know how to navigate herself with a staff under little real obligation to her. In this present moment, it means having the presence of mind to curb herself before she says more than the flat words she finally settles on;

"If you must sit here," she says, leaving the plate to cool slowly beside her, most of it untouched, as she picks up her task again, "then be silent. I'm not taking a break," flattening a bandage with short, sharp gestures, "nor am I here to entertain you."

[thecookery]

At not having to talk anymore, Avery actually sighs with relief. "Thank the Maker. I'm not sure how much more I had left in me."

She sits back and shakes her head, ready to embrace some blessed silence.

[elegiaque]

"Feel free to give great consideration to leaving as an alternative," Gwenaëlle says, flatly, before resolving to give no further attention to the stranger.

[thecookery]

Avery scoffs but says nothing. She's thick-skinned, sure, but boy does this cat have claws. Painted and pretty as they may be to hide their sharpness.

She sits still, for a while at least, watching the hustle and bustle of the healing tents, but eventually she starts to grow a bit restless. Working is basically all she's done since she got to Skyhold. Since long before that, really. So doing nothing doesn't sit with her well, and after a while she reaches for some of the bandages Gwenaëlle hasn't gotten to yet, to help with the rolling.

[elegiaque]

Without appearing to think about it, an impulse reaction that happens too quickly for Gwenaëlle to think better of, she smacks Avery's hand away as she reaches - more sudden than especially forceful. (A much smaller thing than she ever seems to notice she is without outside reminder, it's unlikely that she could put a particularly impressive amount of force behind anything, really.)

"If you need something to do," she says, evenly, "you can go and ask the healers what they need. It would be a waste of resources for a second person to perform one task when they might do another."

Also, she's still irritated about this is a right mess, isn't it.

[thecookery]

The messiness is still true!

As for the smack, Avery pulls her hand back, looking surprised and a little incredulous. "Really?" she asks with only a mild amount of irritation. The claws thing was a metaphor, you know.

[elegiaque]

"I don't think there was anything unclear about what I said."

She moves what she's currently working on the small distance required to put it out of Avery's easy reach and doesn't look at her as she says, "Of course, if your rudeness is simple ignorance, that can't be held against you. The healers are there," with exaggerated patience, "if you require instructions."

Gwenaëlle only ever mastered the 'backhand' part of the Orlesian backhanded compliment.

[thecookery]

Yeah, compliments must work a little different in Denerim, because none of that is sounding like even part of one to Avery. And actually moving the bandages? Does it get more petty than that?

"Oh, I got it," she answers after a moment, slow and almost challenging. "But maybe I like this seat. Just want to stick around, really enjoy it for a while."

[elegiaque]

A long pause follows as Gwenaëlle orders her thoughts. Contemplates what she might say - that she is so tired, that she is terrified something will happen while she isn't there, that she couldn't stand to be away if she wasn't doing something useful with the time, that she just wanted to breathe air that didn't smell like death for a little while, that she doesn't understand what Avery wants or why she won't let her alone. What awful amusement she must be taking in picking at someone else's pain.

In the end -

she says none of it, which doesn't help any of the misunderstanding between them.

"Then have it," she says, rising, brushing her skirts off and picking up the bandages that she's already rolled and walking away, leaving the unrolled bandages for Avery to finish and the uneaten meal for her to clean up.

There are other tasks that can be done. She'll find one.

[thecookery]

Avery practically jumps to her feet, panicked, though she doesn't move any closer to Gwenaëlle's retreating back.

"Wait! Please. I'll go. You don't have to."

She even takes a couple of steps away for emphasis, cringing horribly at herself. "I don't know why I said that, before." A sigh, and then she grinds out between her teeth, "Probably because I'm a fucking idiot... I just wanted to help, but clearly I didn't."

[elegiaque]

Gwenaëlle only pauses a moment; does not turn around.

"I prefer to," she says, matter of fact. "Excuse me."

[thecookery]

"...I'm sorry."