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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There's tears in her eyes. He has no idea what to do aside from feel even worse because he's making her cry, and that's the opposite of helpful. Quickly he steps to the side and uses the hand that hasn't been touching ointment to grab a clean cloth square and bring it over and offer it out.

"I wish... Maker, I wish I believed that. That there was always hope. I've seen so many times when there's none. When it's all loss, when there's... When there's nothing."

Karl, his network in Kirkwall, the Starkhaven mages, so many people he'd failed to heal and failed to save and his list grows steadily longer.

She notices that he leaves her side, and she only has the chance to wonder about that for a moment before he's back again, holding something out to her. She'd argue that she isn't crying, but she's tired of arguing, tired of talking in circles and trying to rationalize the fact that she'd been involved in a large group of people from the Inquisition who'd essentially ganged up on and killed a child.

She accepts the cloth from him, lightly dabbing at her eyes as she tries to make herself focus on the conversation. Anders needs comforting as much as she does, even if she has to keep forcing herself to remember that.

"There's never nothing. Nothing can be built out of nothing. It's basic science, where I'm from. It's called the Law of Conservation of Energy: energy can neither be created nor destroyed, only transferred. It's not too different from hope. Even if you begin to lose hope in one thing, you have to learn to have hope in something else. Otherwise you wouldn't be able to go on."

"I don't know about energy transferring. I just know that sometimes faith and hope runs out, and one only moves forward because they can't stay still or stop, no matter how they want to. There's nothing deep or, or, or meaningful about that. It's just a thing that happens."

All of these worlds, with their studies so far ahead of Thedas, with their treatment of people so far ahead. How many centuries would it take to get there? How many more have to suffer before mages can know what Hermione's people do, or Kirk's?

"Maybe advancing the way your world has means that there's more hope. I don't know." Maybe it means it's easier to have higher ideals, when the ones that should be common sense are seen to. "Some situations don't have hope, and sometimes... Sometimes people run out of it too."

If he could have stopped after Karl died, he would have, but that's not something he's about to say. Not when she's upset enough about everything that she's been through here.

"I'm sorry. That you had to deal with that, that you have to be here in the first place." No one deserves Thedas.

"It isn't your fault I'm here," Hermione replies, though for all she knows, it might be. Maybe Anders had done something, maybe one of the mages right here in Skyhold had toyed with magic beyond their control, and that's really the root of all of this. But ultimately, Corypheus had started this, and he'll be the end of it, one way or another. Blaming anyone else for that sort of thing just wouldn't be fair.

"And it isn't your fault that-...." That that boy had been ripped away from his parents. That he'd been experimented on. That he'd been possessed. That he'd had to die. "-... what happened in the cave. It isn't your fault."

It would have happened whether or not Anders had been there, whether or not any of them had been there. Someone would have eventually put that boy out of his misery, no matter how much Hermione doesn't like the prospect. But it's clear that Hermione's feelings aren't the only ones to be taken into account here.

"Why are you a healer, Anders?"

What happened to the boy isn't quite his fault, but he hadn't managed to help the situation despite his efforts. He had to try better, harder, something in the future. Anders will not be the only abomination saved if he has anything to say about it.

The question draws him out of his thoughts of failure, though, and he blinks at Hermione before answering slowly.

"As in why, initially? Or..." He's had a great many questions asked of him. This one is new. "In the beginning it was, it was something I could do. It was the reason I got to live. If you escaped the Circle once you got punished, twice you were killed. But I was gifted, strong. I got to keep escaping and living. It took seven tries before I finally got out and stayed out. But then..."

His voice is thoughtful, though he takes a moment to shrug, to distance himself a little from this. Being open is not something he does often.

"I kept finding people who I could help. I was, I was working with Compassion then, and with her talking with me I started seeing needs beyond my own. Healing was how I could help. I couldn't give money, or food, or things, but I could heal. It's what I can give."

The words slow down as he looks down. "Our world is broken. It has been for such a long time. In trying to help it I broke it more, but at least I know that healing isn't causing new wounds or tears."

She nods at his initial request for clarification, though she'd meant why he was currently a healer as much as she had why he'd started out that way. Either way, he still manages to prove her point, even if he doesn't seem to fully realize it just yet.

"Healing is your way of helping people. And you wouldn't want to help people if you didn't have some sort of hope for them. Hope that they could be healed and go on to live better lives because of you. And most of them do."

It's not easy, looking in the eye when one takes into account what he'd done the last time she'd been on a mission with him. But somehow Hermione manages it, even if she can't manage the smile that she wishes she could offer. But if nothing else, the steady eye contact is a start, and hopefully Anders recognizes that.

"Whatever could or couldn't be done about that boy, it's in the past, and so what's done can't be undone. But your world is still here. That means it isn't yet broken beyond repair. So hope for something better for it, Anders. Like I do."

He meets her eyes and listens, gaze dropping down once or twice as she talks. It's not easy to be wrong... but he is, here. There wouldn't be a point in healing people if he didn't have some hopes for them, however small.

And she wouldn't be meeting his eyes rather than shying away if she didn't have some hope for him, however small. Anders takes a slow breath.

"I'll... I will. I want it to be better for the next generation. If they can live never knowing the loss of everything when their magic manifests, then that's, that's a change that couldn't have been dreamed of just five years ago. And you've, you're helping with that, Hermione. You represent a world where it's possible, where young people have hope."

The rifts are awful, tearing at the world. The rifters? He thinks many of them gifts.

Hermione could continue to be standoffish, if she really wants to. She's been known to hold grudges for weeks, months even, sometimes even when there wasn't really anything to hold a grudge against. But given where she is and what she's seen, life may just be too short to hold grudges.

The mention of future generations is another sign of hope, though she does look down when he mentions that mages have so much to lose upon discovering that they're mages. She still can't fathom that, given how supportive her parents had been when Professor McGonagall visited and confirmed that their daughter had been a witch - supportive, if a little taken aback by the shock of it all. But here in a world where magic is no secret, there shouldn't be shock at all, and so the fact that parents would willingly run their own children out of their homes if they turn out to be mages....

"I wish I could help them," she murmurs softly. "The children who get turned away from their former lives. I wish this was the sort of place where I could feasibly take them in. No, I wish I could hex their close-minded families - nothing major, mind, just something like the pranks young wizards and witches play on each other, like... like temporarily covering them in hair or enlarging their teeth - and then I'd take in the young mages. I'd set up proper schools instead of Circles, where they would learn to control their magic and still be free to visit their families, if they want to. It wouldn't stop Abominations from happening, but if they had a class such as Defense Against the Dark Arts like we have at Hogwarts... maybe things would be a little easier for them."

"The school setup, one that can be attended by mages and non-mages, coming and going, that's what could be the most useful. It's what I'd like to aim us for."

He takes a breath, shaky, his voice low. "You know the Dalish very rarely have abominations? They're not taught to fear their magic and those with it, but the use of it. It's fear that creates so many abominations, fear, being abandoned, being alone and feeling like you're backed into a corner. And even..."

Another breath, and a shake of his head. "A prank hex wouldn't help. I don't think anything would have helped when m--, when someone's father rushes to get rid of their mage child as quickly as possible, or they hear the words disowning them. Giving mages a safe place helps, but the fear and stigma is another thing on top of that."

Knowing his mom still loved him had done a little for him, but she'd still let him be taken without argument or protest, and his father had gotten him taken away as quickly as possible. covering his father in hair wouldn't have done anything to take away from that pain.

Hermione hears that pause before he mentions "someone's" father, and she can read between the lines. And she wishes, more than anything, that she couldn't. If Anders and other mages, all the other mages all around him, had been abandoned by their parents, how can the non-mages of the world not expect a fair amount of bitterness among them?

"If I had a child here, I wouldn't let anyone take him or her away from me. Loving a child any differently because of magical ability is as senseless as loving them differently because of their athletic ability. A stronger, faster, more agile child could grow up to either be a skilled warrior or a bullying lout. That's why you encourage children to play up to their strengths while teaching them responsibility."

She has stronger feelings about this sort of thing, and knowing that the person she's talking to can directly relate doesn't help matters. So she gives herself a moment to take a breath before looking up at Anders again, pushing aside all of the initial trepidation she'd felt as being in the tent with him.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Anders. That any of the mages had to go through that. And I'm sorry that anything happens to make people think that sort of thing is necessary. But... if I'm going to be here for any extended period of time, then I promise: I'll do what I can to help people realize that just because someone is different doesn't mean that they're dangerous. Mage, rifter, Qunari... abomination."

Sometimes it's freeing to hear other people get worked up about matters. He doesn't know why, but it is. All the same, he can understand why she doesn't have the energy to maintain the anger, especially after all that's happened.

"It's... It's not all right. But it's in the past, and I've dealt with it. And I'd like to help you with that promise. People need... they need a chance. They need to know they're people, rather than being treated wrongly for how they're born. And if we can find a way to help full abominations, fully merged ones, as opposed to ones who are still somewhat separate, then so much the better."

There's so far to go for all of the groups at risk, but at least there are people aware of the problem instead of simply ignoring it now. They have a chance.

It's good to hear Anders continue to talk about people needing a chance. Even though she's sure he's talking about the oppressed, that could just as easily apply to the oppressors themselves; the whole world can't be so stubborn that they won't admit that they've been wrong and try to find a better way to change things. The Inquisition is proof enough of that.

"Look at that," she remarks, a very tiny, wry smile quirking at her lips. "You're beginning to sound more hopeful already."

It still hurts, thinking about what she'd seen in the cave, about what he'd been forced to do, and if she does think about it for too long, her throat dries out a bit. But she can push back the nausea, knowing that it's hardly as though he'd taken any pleasure in that sort of thing, and she lets a little of the tension fall from her shoulders. "You're a good man, Anders. You've been forced to make some awful decisions in your life, but you're still a good man. I'm sorry if I ever made you doubt that."

He's too emotionally exhausted to offer her a small smile, but he can offer her a hand.

"You're forgiven." It's not really her fault he doubts it often; she'd simply brought it back to the forefront. He's got more friends here now than he's ever had in his entire life and yet the thought of losing even one of them is painful. Even more painful is the thought of losing them due to his actions. "I'm very sorry for what you've already been through in this world and what you're likely to still face. But I'm glad to have you as a friend."

While Hermione is ready enough to admit that there's not necessarily anything to forgive, she still hesitates for a brief moment when Anders offers her his hand. It's a bit like calling a truce, and while she doesn't view this as having been at war with anyone, it still doesn't quite feel right to simply smooth over what had happened.

But in the end, she knows it hadn't been Anders' fault. It all falls back to the state of the world, and she knows she can't change the status quo on her own. So she gently brushes Anders' hand aside, though it's only so she has the room to step in and gingerly put her arms around him in a tentative hug.

"I won't stop being your friend just because you made a hard decision," she murmurs softly. "Heaven knows I've had to make my fair share of those in my life, and losing a friend on top of it would have been devastating."

He hugs her back just as tentatively, partially covering for the sudden drop his heart had done into his stomach when his hand had first been pushed aside.

"It would have been," Anders says quietly. It wouldn't have been the first time that something going wrong had also included fallout that cost him someone too. "Be careful with the wound, and please call me if it gets worse?"

He pulls back from the hug and gives her a small smile. "That's the price of my friendship. I'm horribly obnoxious if my friends do things to prolong their own suffering."

She's almost forgotten about her injury until he hugs her back, and she just manages to avoid flinching from the dull pain. They've just managed to have formed a truce of the most tentative sort; making him think that she's flinching from having contact with him wouldn't really help matters in the least.

Even so, she's a bit relieved when they part, nodding at him and doing her best to offer him a smile, even if it doesn't come close to meeting her eyes. "I'll keep that in mind. It doesn't seem like too terrible a price to pay, given that you're a healer."

Friends. They're friends. And whatever terrible things he might have to do in the future or even that she might be forced to do, they can continue to be friends. She hopes.

"Thank you, Anders. And I'm-... I'm sorry for the way I was acting at first. But thank you. Not just for the salve, but... for caring.

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[OPEN] Heaven bend to take my hand

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So late but this thread was too good to drop.

♥

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