faderift | [OPEN] Heaven bend to take my hand

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[OPEN] Heaven bend to take my hand

WHO: Hermione Granger and YOU
WHAT: Hermione's seen some shit and is trying to get over it.
WHEN: Mid-Kingsway through the end of the month.
WHERE: In and around Skyhold.
NOTES: Takes place after this plot, so some threads will likely have mentions of child death and/or signs of depression. Please let me know if you'd like me to avoid any triggery topics.

Library

Though the curly-haired rifter has become a staple in the library over the past six months, Hermione has been relatively scarce there lately. She has no real heart for research anymore, not after the things she'd uncovered in those journals in that cave in Fromage, and there's so much more to Thedas than what can be found in books. She'd learned that the hard way, and now instead of reading and taking notes, she finds her thoughts wandering as they rarely do. For once, she can use a distraction from her failed attempts at studying.

Stables

Avoiding people isn't always as easy as she'd like it to be. But if she can preoccupy herself with animals, Hermione can withstand a bit of small talk. There's usually a kitten or two playing around the stables, and if not, at least helping to feed some of the horses will make her feel productive as well as distracted. And if that doesn't work, there's a certain dracolisk that she'd been slowly learning to get friendly with, assuming it won't sense her dour mood and become agitated.

Battlements

The battlements are actually quite pretty. She'd never really come up here before - if she wasn't in the library then that usually means she wanted to be social, and so the courtyards were where she'd spent more of her time - but now that she's looking for a change of scenery... well, there are worse places to get some quiet with a beautiful view. She's not always alone, since there are always people passing back and forth, but most people don't seem all that keen on hassling the young woman perched in between two turrets, staring out into the mountains. Indeed, unless someone happens to recognize her or just manages to catch her as she wipes at a stray tear, most probably wouldn't even know she's there.

Healing Tents

Returning from Emprise had been difficult, for more reasons than one. Beyond the obvious, Hermione still had a few physical injuries that she'd intended to ask the healers in her group to help with on their way back, but had clearly never gotten around to it due to the extenuating circumstances. Of course, she can't indefinitely deal with waking up with a sharp pain in her back and some of the bruises had begun to look particularly gruesome, so there's nothing wrong with making the occasional visit to the healing tents. If she takes care of one thing at a time and sees a different healer each time, it minimizes the chance of any awkward questions being asked, which is all the better; she's not ready to talk about that dreadful day and is in no rush to change that.

Wildcard!

She probably won't be quite so cheery until later on in the month, but Hermione still needs to eat, drink, bathe, and presumably sleep. She may be a little awkward around those that had gone to Emprise du Lion with her, but she isn't about to actively ignore anyone or send them off. Her nerves might be a bit frayed, but there's still such a thing as etiquette, after all.

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Inessa still tries to make the library a regular habit, though it's not as extensive as before. Sometimes, she finds the stacks comforting, reminding her of her old Circle. And sometimes, that's exactly the problem. She'll look at them and remember the abominations lumbering down the halls, the demons everywhere...and then she needs to leave and get some air.

This is one of the former situations, at least for now. Inessa's seated at a table, Garahel sleeping while she tries to read her page for what seems like the tenth time. Realizing that she's not in a mood to absorb anything, the young woman moves to stand and return the book to its place in the stacks. It's then that her gaze slides over to Hermione, wincing a little at the memory of their mission, and her own subsequent meltdown after the abomination's death. Maker knows what Hermione must think of her now, but seeing to her fellow teammates well-being now that she's not mentally shutdown seems more important.

"Hermione...how are you?" It's not an idle question.

For what it's worth, Hermione has no memory of Inessa's meltdown, or of any of the smaller details of that day at all. What she does remember is probably a warped account of events brought on by her own feelings of guilt: she'd trusted people to comfort the child, they'd instead antagonized the demon that had clearly been living just below the surface, and the only way to get themselves out of the corner they'd painted themselves into had been to....

But that's the bit she won't let herself remember, despite her brain sadistically attempting to replay that particular reel over and over again. The books don't help, not unless she gets a paper cut that brings her back into focus for a few moments. It's during one of those few moments that Hermione hears that familiar voice at her side, and she frowns a little before turning to look at Inessa.

There are any number of ways she can answer that question that will minimize further conversation. Instead, her defenses are down and she's weary, instinctively opting for the truth instead. "I've seen better days. But then, I think it's safe to say we all have."

"Quite true." Inessa sighs, shoulders sagging a bit. The usual stoic mask just isn't there; she doesn't have the energy to uphold it. There's no hiding the deep dark circles under her eyes, evidence of her valiant struggle to stay awake and not succumb to the horrible dreams she knows are awaiting her. It only works sometimes, thanks to Ciri's interference and Garahel being a dirty traitor.

"...I'm sorry you had to see that, all of it. I've lived with the memories of an abomination attack for some time. It's not anything I would wish upon anyone else, even my worst enemy." And that the abomination this time was a child makes it even worse. Knowing what he went through, that in the end there was no saving him, twists her stomach.

Edited 2016-09-13 15:57 (UTC)

Ah. So they're not even going to keep up the pretense of having anything else to discuss. Hermione doesn't know how to feel about that. On the one hand, she'd always preferred being up front about difficult subjects; but on the other... she's still not ready to talk about this.

"It wasn't an 'abomination attack'," Hermione points out, trying to keep her voice level as she pointedly avoids eye contact for the moment. "We'd frightened a child who'd been tortured, and that had angered the demon that had possessed him. The rage demon. Because angering a rage demon doesn't constitute as provoking it, apparently."

It's not Inessa that she has a problem with, clearly. She'd only just met Herian and Ciri, and can avoid them from here on out if she has to, simply by merit of where they'd stood insofar as their opinions on the matter. She'd rather not, of course, but emotions are still running too high for her to be entirely rational on the subject.

Inessa's fine with the lack of eye contact, hoping that focusing on a random bookshelf helps collect her thoughts. Her own voice remains calm, if weary, doing her best to keep a level head about a topic that touches upon her worst fears. A little distance has helped with that, but still. Not easy.

"I know, it was a disaster. It all went wrong so very fast. For a moment, I thought it might have been possible, that the ritual could be attempted again." She would have helped with said ritual, even as every instinct was screaming at her to run away or kill it. But she couldn't. She couldn't kill a child, even one with a demon in him. "...and then it all spiraled out of control. Once the demon surfaces, attacks...that's it."

"It didn't all spiral out of control!" Hermione nearly hisses. "We spiraled out of control! You can't tell me there aren't ways to subdue demons, to trap or bind them until such a time comes that they can be dealt with. If we'd all kept calm, we wouldn't have incensed the demon, and taking care of the situation would have been much easier. Most of us had been there when Anders had needed similar help; forcing a demon out of a child when the possession had only lasted a fraction of the time as Anders' would have been well within the scope of possibility!"

She realizes that it sounds as though she's snapping at Inessa specifically, and she doesn't want to do that. So she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, murmuring, "I'm sorry. I'd thought I'd already seen enough people die far too soon in my own world; coming here and getting more of the same is something of a sore spot."

The slight elf nearly recoils at the sudden outburst, but stands hers ground instead. She stiffens, lips forming a thin line. Hermione's position is understandable, but she won't be spoken to like that. She opens her mouth to say as much, but the apology is already given. Crossing her arms, she sighs, expression softening again though she'll keep her distance. The calm in her voice doesn't fade; it takes more than that to shake it.

"You were under tremendous strain, as were we all. I can relate to an abundance of death and how it weighs on you, how it sickens you so that you can't stand the sight of any more. I say this as one who would gladly have done that ritual if it meant saving a child; abominations are not easily subdued, not at all. That is why they are so feared, because once they cross that threshold, they are nigh-unstoppable. Anders harbored Justice, yes, but he still retained some control, and he was not poisoned by red lyrium. That substance's presence cannot be discounted; mere exposure has driven people mad. Infusing someone with it...." Just the thought makes Inessa feel ill, and she has to pause to collect herself. What happened to that boy will never not haunt her.

"Even with our combined strength, it could well have broken past. And once it had, the town of Fromage would not have stood a chance. It would be one more town erased from existence because the demon took control."

Hermione isn't here to antagonize anyone, especially not when she now knows how quickly certain members of the Inquisition can go from comforting someone to mortally wounding them in perceived self-defense. It may be paranoia, but she can't help wondering how long she'd have to live if it were ever even hinted that she might be a danger to the Inquisition, and while that feels selfish, it's certainly one of the underlying causes to how disturbed she's been about this whole thing.

"The fight was over too quickly to gauge just how strong the demon might have been," she breathes out. "We can argue forever over whether that means we might have had a chance in sparing the boy or if we would have all been killed if we'd given him the chance to fully gain his bearings. I don't want to argue." A pause, and then she finds her vision wavering with tears as she murmurs, "I don't want to do anything. There's no point in it, if we couldn't even save a child."

There's a soft canine whine as the distress has caught the attention of Garahel. Perhaps he wasn't sleeping as deeply as Inessa thought. At any rate, he heads over and nudges Inessa gently before doing the same to Hermione. He can't take away the pain, but he can try to prevent it from taking over through nuzzling.

Inessa's eyes are dry but dull, holding that trauma within herself now that she's regained some composure. "I have no wish to argue, either. We did not save this child; I wanted to, but he is gone. The only thing that remains is hoping for the chance to save a child in the future. The need will come up again, if not exactly in the same way, and they'll need someone."

Hermione jumps a bit at the sudden sensation of something rubbing up against her, having forgotten about Inessa's constant companion. While she's rather fond of mabari and has never said no to spending time with them before, she's reserved as she regards him, not wanting to end up curling up on the floor with him and sobbing. So she's hesitant as she reaches out to pet his head, her heart clearly not in it.

"The need will come up again and again and again. I've read almost every book on Thedas' history this library has to offer. If the victim isn't a mage, it's an elf. If it isn't an elf, it's a child. If the danger doesn't come from darkspawn or demons or corrupt Templars, it's an ancient magister who thinks himself a god. How can anyone be expected to keep fighting when there never seems to be a clear period of victory?"

That's okay, Garahel doesn't seem offended. He remains in case she changes her mind, but doesn't push for it. Being obnoxious is only for light moments where begging and belly rubs can happen. Inessa will compliment him later but for now keeps her focus on Hermione. She sighs and nods slowly, unable to argue with that. "There's always something. I thought that after the Blight, the Grey Wardens wouldn't be as needed, that it would be relatively uneventful for them, but...that hasn't been true at all. And no one else has had a reprieve, either.

We keep fighting because otherwise, it pulls us under. There might not be a clear period of victory, but every day where we're still alive and able to move forward, that's a minor victory in itself. For ourselves, for those who need us. I have to believe that."

"Survival shouldn't be a victory," Hermione counters, voice trembling. She's had a similar discussion before, back home, after the war was over and they'd tallied up their dead and her head had swayed with the sheer number of people who would no longer be in her life. And she'd gotten past that once, so it's fair to say that she would get past it again, but in the moment, it certainly doesn't feel that way.

"It's hard to remember why life is worth living if all you're doing is trying to stay alive. There has to be more to life here. Not just for me, but for people like that little boy. He couldn't see past all his pain and suffering, and that-... that's how things turned out the way they had."

"Survival shouldn't be a victory...but the gulf between what should be and what is can be rather wide. Often, the only good thing that comes of such horrors in Thedas is the ability to walk away afterward. Being able to do so at all is far more than what the imprisoned were given." It may sound cynical, but Inessa still remembers the harshness of city elf life. If she got worked up about all bigotry thrown their way, she wouldn't have energy to confront anything else. At certain amount of fatalism is a way of life for her, a survival method.

"That is not to say that I don't agree with you. They should have more, despite that so often they never do. I try to remind myself that Corypheus is fallible; very Venatori and Red Templar we take away from him is one less to torment innocent civilians. Sometimes it even helps." Sometimes.

Hermione presses her lips together, not liking what she hears but knowing that Inessa isn't trying to get on her bad side or any such thing. This is just the way of things in Thedas. If the Second Wizarding War had turned out differently, Hermione's own world might just have been worse.

"Sometimes," she echoes. "It's the times that it doesn't help that bother me. Or the times where it somehow makes things worse." Looking down at Garahel as though only just remember that her hand is still on him, she absently scratches behind his ear, frowning in thought. "The Venatori and Red Templars are just two aspects of a much larger problem that doesn't seem any closer to being solved."

Inessa nods, sighing as she can't deny that she's likewise bothered by how many of Corypehus' force -and their supply of red lyrium- are still at large. Garahel seems to echo that sigh, though he perks up at little at that behind the ear scratching, and leans against Hermione a little at that.

"I can't deny that our cause has progressed at a pace slower than I'd like. That said, I am grateful for the slaying of the Nightmare, and the subsequent loosened hold on the Grey Wardens. I was never under direct control, but...the corruption still called to me. Living without that has been far more preferable." She holds back from getting into too much detail, not knowing what Hermione does about Warden taint and trying to keep at least some of their practices from non-members.

"I know there's a lot more work ahead, though. Sometimes it seems endless. The thought of their red lyrium spreading elsewhere keeps me up at night more times than I should admit."

Hermione can't help but feel comforted by the solid weight of the large mabari leaning against her, and she finds it a little easier to close her eyes and let out a long, slow breath. This isn't pleasant conversation, not by any means, and talking about anything involving her time in the Fade and fighting against the Nightmare isn't going to improve it, but at least it helps to get herself out of her own head.

If nothing else, Hermione isn't going to fall into her more inquisitive patterns and ask after details on the Grey Wardens. She'd talked to Warden Blackwall while in the Western Approach, and while it doesn't explain what Inessa means by the "corruption", she does understand that there had definitely been a connection between what had happened there and why they'd had to cut through a mess of Wardens in the process.

"I was in the Fade," she murmurs softly. "And I saw what the red lyrium can do. Both are things that most people claim give them nightmares, and here we both are, wishing we could get a proper night's sleep. It would be funny, except I'm hard-pressed to find anything to laugh about."

Likewise, Inessa's own inquisitive patterns are put on hold. Normally, any talk about physically entering the Fade, something no one has done since the Tevinter magisters of old, would produce endless questions. She wasn't there, so naturally she wants to learn all that others can tell her. But this isn't the time or place for that, and the elven Warden is well aware of that fact. They're both too bruised to bring in another sensitive topic.

"As am I. But there might be a reprieve from sleep difficulties; I spoke earlier with an elf woman named Pamelia, who is skilled in potions and teas and such. She made me a blend which she believes ought to aid my desire for dreamless, restful sleep. At this point, I am willing to try it. Perhaps it would benefit you, as well."

"A Potion for Dreamless Sleep?" Hermione asks, surprised. She'd wanted to make that herself, back when a strange fever seemed to be plaguing almost everyone in Skyhold. But even before she'd succumbed to the fever herself, she'd realized that several of the ingredients simply aren't to be found in Thedas. "There's a way to make a Potion for Dreamless Sleep here? Without flobberworms or valerian?"

Regardless of what's in it, she looks down, frowning a little in thought. "I suppose it might be worth a try...."

"...valerian I can understand, but flobberworms?" If they're anything like regular worms, Inessa will pass. She's heard of alchemy involving some interesting ingredients for their potions and tonics, and tries not to pry too much on either so she can use them without gagging. "It's a potent tea blend, with some rarer herbs and the like. I don't know if it will make us overly drowsy, so I would avoid bringing it on missions until you know how it effects you. Or ask if she can adjust it without compromising the intent."

"I don't think they exist here, since no one seems to have heard of them," Hermione murmurs. She'd spoken about this potion to someone before, but she can't for the life of her remember who. She seems to remember a frail-looking young man with an obscured face, but... well, that's neither here nor there. "Dreamless Sleep Potions will knock someone out for quite a bit of time, depending on how strong it is and how much the person manages to drink. If it's just some sort of herbal remedy, that might be safer."

Anything that doesn't involve magic sounds relatively safe to Hermione now, but that's another matter altogether.

"It is; I prefer simple solutions when they can be found. It should allow for the continuation of restful sleep, not render one unconscious. We may be safer at Skyhold, but that's still not a risk I would prefer to take." If Corypheus attacked the fortress as he did Haven, she wouldn't want to be rendered useless for it. Even if the need is less dire, she still wants at least the chance to wake up on her own terms.

Hermione nods absently. "Though sometimes I can't help but wonder if this isn't all just some elaborate dream on my part. Being here, talking to all of you. But then I remember that I don't have nearly enough imagination to create a world like Thedas and...." And she doesn't have the luxury to keep pretending she's safely asleep in her dorm.

"And I have to come to grips with this being my reality for the time being. And yours for the foreseeable future."

Inessa's expression softens at that, and Garahel nuzzles gently. "For now, yes. We'll see what the future holds. I can make no guarantees, only promise that I will remain alert to any means by which you may be returned." Or at the very least, allowing for Hermione to send word. She can't help but think back to her Circle days and how she would have preferred some correspondence. Then again, at least her parents knew where she had been taken and why. Hermione's had no such reassurances.

"Thank you," she replies, sounding wholly earnest as she says it. She takes a moment to duck down towards the nuzzling mabari, not hugging Garahel so much as simply resting her head against his for a brief moment and murmuring, "Thank you, too," before straightening up again. "There's no such thing as a one-way door. If I can find my way here by happenstance, there has to be a way back. I just... have to keep telling myself that."

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[OPEN] Heaven bend to take my hand

Library

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