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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If nothing else, Jamie's willingness to act more or less like himself proves that he'll eventually be able to move past it. Which shouldn't surprise Hermione at all, really. She's seen him in the middle of a fight. As far as she's concerned, he'd be a Gryffindor if he weren't a Muggle, no questions asked.

"Maybe they're giving you that because that's what you need right now," she tells him, though she does glance over at the table in question and picks up the cup. She sniffs at it, trying to determine just what's in it, but she's not nearly familiar enough with the herbs of Thedas to figure out its ingredients. "If you finish drinking this, I'll go find the ingredients for something a bit more like what you'd have during teatime. I don't want anyone to say you didn't take care of yourself while convalescing because you got distracted by a friend."

Which reminds her of the mildly awkward thing he brings up next. Offering him the cup, she meets his eyes and replies, "You did, yes." There's a brief pause before she decides she might as well ask, "Who's Zoe?"

Inwardly, she's just hoping he doesn't reply that she's a sweetheart from back home. That would make things zoom from mildly awkward to incredibly so.

"But-"

He knows full well that the tea's supposed to be good for him - and on some level, he's aware that it has likely been helping. But that doesn't mean he has to like it. It tastes awful, for one, and for another it's been sitting for quite some time, meaning that there's probably a whole bunch of leaves and flowers and who knows what else sitting at the bottom.

"Och, fine. I'll finish it."

To show he's serious, he reaches over and picks up the mug, taking a fairly large swig of the contents - and then promptly making a face at the taste of the stuff. It's as bad as he thought, and he has to clear his throat before he can actually get around to getting back to the other part of the conversation.

"To answer your question, though, Zoe's a friend. She was traveling with me and the Doctor when I- well, before I came here. You remind me a wee bit of her, in some ways. Maybe that's why I thought you were her for a moment."

Hermione knows herbal remedies aren't always the best-tasting, especially not when they challenge the gag reflex. So she's happy that Jamie at least doesn't give her a hard time about it, and she offers him a small, if somewhat strained, smile as he does so.

Though it's not the cause of that strain in her smile, Hermione does relax a bit when Jamie declares that Zoe is just a friend. She can deal with being compared to a friend. "If you were just waking up, that's likely why you thought I was her," she brings up gently. "Or maybe she's what you need right now. Heaven knows I wished Ron or Harry had been here after I came back from-...."

From a place she doesn't want to think about, after accomplishing a mission that had somehow seemed like a failure. But that's neither here nor there, not really, and so Hermione looks around the tent, moving towards where they keep the dry stores. "Let's see if I can find something to brew for you. What sort of tea do you typically like?"

That pause is enough to get Jamie's attention, and as he goes to try and down some more of his tea-potion, his eyebrows arch up enough that they disappear into his bangs for a second or two - but then they settle back into place as he lowers the mug.

"From something that made you miss your friends, I'm guessing. Aye, well, I can't blame you for that."

He's been there himself - and not just in the last little while, although he's not entirely sure that right now it's not so much missing Zoe as it is that one side effect of the lyrium, given he kept thinking other people were his friends for a very long time while under its influence, but... maybe there's a reason why he had seen them, back. And maybe there's a reason now, and maybe, just maybe Hermione is more right that he's willing to admit.

Talking about tea is easier, and he wrinkles his nose down at his mug before taking one last swig of it and finishing off the contents. The mug's quickly set down, and if she wants to check to make sure it's empty, she's welcome to do so. For his part, he winds up settling back a bit, propping himself up on an elbow as he turns to watch her progress.

"Now, you know normally I'd say a good strong Scottish tea, but unless they've got that in Starkhaven, I'm fairly sure I'll not have much luck there. Something like that or English breakfast'd do alright, though." Anything that wasn't made out of flowers and roots, really, but ideally if there's a good strong black tea back there, he'll take it. Milk might be a bit trickier, but he has faith she'll be able to come up with something. "Don't suppose they've any biscuits back there, do they?"

Hermione only hums out a noncommittal answer. She doesn't want to talk about what had happened in that small cavern in Fromage, especially not in light of what Jamie had gone through. She may have been psychologically traumatized, but given his much more visible physical injuries, it seems trite to dwell on it.

So instead, she looks through the various herbs available to her, knowing that she isn't exactly going to manage a fancy brew but hoping she can pull together a decent blend that won't upset Jamie's stomach. "You may be asking too much. Scotland and England don't exist here, remember, and so you can't count on finding the same ingredients." Opening a tin and taking a sniff of its contents, she makes a slight face and adds, "Though it might be easier to find a passable black tea than it would be to find tea biscuits."

Indeed, short of the herbal blends, strong black teas seem to be Thedas' specialty, and so it doesn't take her too long to take her findings and move towards a kettle. "Harder still would be fresh milk or cream, but I can run over to the Herald's Rest or the kitchens and see if they've any they'd be willing to spare."

"Aye, well. They've got bagpipes in Starkhaven," he points out, "So it's maybe not so far out of the realm of possibility. Something similar, anyway."

But she's right, they might not have anything like that - just like they likely don't have proper tea biscuits, and he lets out a sigh.

"You're maybe right about the tea biscuits. Think we'd have to go talk to someone in the kitchens and walk them through a recipe before something like that would happen. And like as not they'd not turn out the same. Maybe once Avery's better..."

Given how she'd looked after the fight, however, he suspects that might be a while yet, and he lets the rest of his thought remain unspoken. Instead he shifts again, turning so he can talk to her while she's getting the kettle set up.

"Look, though, a spot of milk'd be nice but I can live without it. You don't have to go to that sort of trouble, really. Not unless you'd want some too."

"Bagpipes, really?" Hermione asks, only half-listening but mildly interested all the same. "Of all things to have in common. Is their dialect like yours, too?"

Her end of the conversation is little more than background noise, given that she can't really focus on much more besides putting the kettle together. Between everything she'd been through, the soreness she's still experiencing as a result of her last mission, and the shock of seeing Jamie in such poor shape, it's a wonder that she can even remember how to brew a semi-decent pot of tea, though that much would remain to be seen.

"I don't mind, you know. The Herald's Rest isn't too far, and I'm sure they must have something that would help with the tea. Usually, I'd just try to Summon some from there to here, but...." But she'd much rather avoid magic for a while, if there's a chance that it really will act as a beacon for demons and anything else on the other side of the Fade. So instead, she only says, "... but I don't know that that would actually work here."

"Some of it's close, aye."

Some of it isn't, but there are times when listening to someone from Starkhaven is a bit like listening to someone from home, and he can't say as he minds that part of things at all. Rather than go on about that, however, he winds up studying Hermione for a few moments, a faint frown on his face. He remembers the problems she'd had trying to use some of her magic when she first arrived, and given what she's saying, he's starting to think that there's still some issues there - although the idea of it being because of magic being a beacon to demons doesn't even begin to cross his mind.

"Are you still having problems with your magic here? Have the mages not been able to figure out why that is?"

She nods when he confirms that there are a few accents that sound vaguely Scottish hereabouts. She can't recall ever hearing them herself, but she can imagine that it must be a nice sensation. There are a few dialects that sound like various parts of the U.K., and it always makes her feel a little more comfortable, being able to pretend that this person is from somewhere familiar instead of an entirely different world.

Hermione doesn't realize that she's staring blankly down at the kettle over the fire until Jamie asks about her magic, and she blinks a few times before looking back at him. "What? Oh-... I don't know that there's anything for them to figure out, really. It's just a matter of my needing to learn to work around the Fade. Or with it, I suppose. I'm not particularly anxious to do anything that would bring me closer to the Fade, though, so I can just walk to wherever I need to go and pick things up the old-fashioned way."

Given the difficulty she'd been having with her magic, it's not exactly an adjustment to have to get used to not using it at all. She'd just never been afraid to use her magic before, so that's still a feeling that takes some getting used to.

"Aye. Bad enough that we're stuck with these shards in our hands, but then there's that as well."

There were times where he had to wander just well any of them were going to be able to stay away from it. His gaze winds up drifting down to his hand, a slight frown crossing his face as he turns the palm up to look down at the glittering green mark embedded in it. It's still there when he lifts his head again, although his brow is furrowed as well, a clear sign that he's trying to put something together in his head.

"Look, your shard hasn't changed at all lately, has it? Like...och, how do I put it. Not in terms of what size it is, but in what it can do?"

At the mention of the shards, Hermione looks down at her own as well, frowning a bit at the palm of her hand. After knowing that it could act as a beacon to demons, she's come to resent it immensely, and she's found herself wondering more than once if she really needs a left hand.

Jamie's question, though, shakes her out of her morbid thoughts, and she looks up at him, clearly not quite comprehending. "What it can do? Close the rifts, you mean? I've heard that it's possible to also open rifts with them, but I've never seen it for myself." Suddenly alarmed, she steps towards Jamie and asks, "You haven't been opening up rifts, have you, Jamie?"

"What?" Opening the rifts is the last thing on his mind, and the look that Hermione gets says as much even before he shakes his head. "Och, no. Why on Earth would I want to do that?"

He knows that there's been some speculation in regards to that, but personally, the last thing he wants to do was open up a rift and drop a load of demons on everyone's head. No, what he's worried about is completely different - and probably something that's better shown than told. Or at least at first, anyway, and he flicks a glance over towards the flap of the tent.

"Here, help me outside for a moment, will you? If they think you're taking me for some fresh air they'll like as not let it go without giving either of us a hard time. We can have the tea in a wee bit."

She calms down a little at his reaction, though as she explains, "It's not a matter of wanting to. Someone opened a rift right here in Skyhold not long before I'd arrived. That must have been terrible." Especially if the shards are somehow able to trigger the opening of a rift automatically, without the rifter's guidance. That thought would be more than just a little terrifying.

Hermione is a little alarmed when Jamie asks her to help him out, and her face says as much. Glancing towards the exit before looking back at him, she uncertainly reaches out for his hand, though it's anyone's guess whether she actually intends to pull him.

"I don't know that you should really be moving much right now. Wouldn't it be easier to just... talk this out?"

"Sina. Aye, I know. I was there for that."

There'd been reasons why that'd wound up happening, however, a certain set of circumstances that built up and lead to the rift opening - and ones that Jamie was fairly certain weren't going to wind up happening again, especially given that before he'd come here he hadn't had any more magic than your average rock.

Before being the operative word here.

Now, he wasn't so sure, and even though there's something quite uncertain in the way she reaches for his hand, he chooses to ignore that, instead wrapping his fingers around hers with no hesitation on his end.

"No, because I'll not be able to explain it as easily as I can show it. We don't have to go far, just somewhere that's a bit more open."

And preferably out of direct sight, but he'll worry about that part once they're out there.

"There's a spot right behind the tents that'll work. Please, Hermione? I'll even promise not to fuss about going back in after."

Hermione still doesn't really know Sina, and has only heard about the rift opening over Skyhold as hearsay, but Jamie seems to know more about it, and so she'll leave it at that. It doesn't seem as though that's the sort of thing they're talking about right now.

But she still doesn't know exactly what they're talking about, and so she still appears skeptical before gently tugging at his hand, her free arm moving to wind around his back to help brace him.

"You're going to take your tea and other medicine from the healers from now on without fuss, aren't you?" she asks, voice light but certainly serious enough. "If I have to hear Adelaide yelling at me for sneaking out an invalid...."

"Good thing I'm not an invalid then, I'd say."

And he does certainly seem to be able to walk just fine, although he doesn't complain about the extra support that her arm provides. He does wrinkle his nose at the mention of medicine, but he supposes that it's a small price to pay for getting to go outside, even if it'll only be for a few minutes.

"But...aye, alright then. I'll take it without complaining, I promise. Come on, it's this way."

The spot that he wants is in fact just behind the tents, in an area that's more or less out of sight of prying eyes. A training dummy has been set up there by some enterprising soul, close enough that someone who's recovered enough can use it but also far enough away that anyone practicing with it isn't going to bother the patients who need rest. Once he spots it, he turns and starts to head that way, a little slowly, but otherwise not showing any real signs of distress. Once they're within throwing range, he stops, glancing back down at Hermione with a considering expression on his face.

"Now, I'll not say as I mind the support, but you might want to stand behind me, just for a minute or so. Just to be on the safe side, aye?"

"You can complain, just so long as you don't try resisting when someone puts a spoon or a mug to your lips."

Hermione's more than willing to hear him whinge about needing to be responsible and do what's best for himself, so long as she doesn't have to wrestle with him to take his medicine. She's used to complainers, but if it's a matter of which one of the pair of them can be more stubborn, Jamie will find his work is cut out for him.

She lets him guide where they go, but when they come to a stop and he offers her what sounds like a warning, she frowns up at him, second-guessing this whole thing. If anything, she steps in closer to him rather than behind him as she asks, "Why does it sound like you're getting ready to do something dangerous? Or stupid? Or both?"

The expression on his face - at least for the moment - is much closer to the look he gets when he's annoyed, mouth tugging off to one side and staying there as he looks back down at her.

"It's not stupid. I don't want you getting hurt if something goes wrong, though."

Which should answer the part about it being dangerous, although as long as he's careful it shouldn't be - and with a sigh, he lets the vexed expression go, and lifts the hand with the shard, pointing it at the training dummy.

"Look, just don't step in front at me for a few seconds. Can you promise me that much?"

She's about to tell him that if he tries to do anything in his state that might result in her getting hurt, then it is, by definition, dangerous and stupid. But he seems insistent on going on with it, whatever it is, and so she decides that he could have been really stupid and try to do whatever this is on his own instead of with her there.

So while she really doesn't want to, Hermione carefully maneuvers herself slightly behind Jamie, still holding onto him securely. Glancing at his shard hand with a concerned frown on her face, she murmurs, "Just promise me that you won't hurt yourself."

"Aye, I'll promise you that."

It's not as though he hasn't tried this on his own before, more than once. Given that, he feels pretty confident that he won't hurt himself - at least not in the strictest sense of the the word. There is some aching that comes along with what he's going to do, but that's more or less normal given the shard. He can deal with that just fine.

So he shifts his focus fully to the dummy, keeping his hand steady, taking a breath, and...nothing happens. The mark in his hand continues to stay exactly as it was a few seconds ago, not shifting or moving or doing anything, really. And the dummy stays right where it is as well, not that it should really be expected to do much in general.

After a few long moments of nothing, Jamie lets out a sigh of frustration, and starts to turn back towards Hermione to say something. It's only then that the mark in his hand seems to react, flaring to life and then, quite suddenly, shooting out a beam of light, similar to the rift energy that comes out when they try to close the rifts, but much more focused. Luckily, Jamie hasn't moved his hand, so the beam winds up effecting the dummy rather than anything else, giving it a good solid hit to its chest. On a person it would've staggered them, but all the dummy does is sway back a little before settling back into place.

She can't really take the promise all that seriously, given that Hermione is far too familiar with the fact that men will often hurt themselves even if they try not to, and even then, they pretend that they hadn't really been all that hurt. She just hopes that Jamie isn't quite that stubborn, especially in light of the fact that he's actually injured at the moment.

So she watches him warily, tensing when he holds out his hand but still ready to jump in and do what she can to help him should he need saving. When nothing happens, she frowns a little in confusion, looking up at him as he begins to turn towards her. Then she jumps, startled, staggering a little at the sight of that strange beam of power despite the fact that it isn't exactly aimed at her. "Jamie!"

Despite her surprised outcry, things seem to calm down, and she stares from him to the dummy and back again with wide, bewildered eyes. "What was that?"

While he can be that stubborn - and has in fact pretended not to be all that hurt more than once - this time he means what he says. The last thing he wants is to wind up spending more time in the healers tents than he has to.

Luckily, the after-effects that come with shooting out a single burst of energy from his hand are manageable, even in his current condition. An aching hand, feeling faintly drained...he's used to that. So long as he doesn't have to repeat the trick all that often, he'll deal, although there's something a touch more tired in his eyes as he looks back at her.

"Same stuff as that comes out of these marks when we close the rifts, as far as anyone knows, only it can hurt things. It- it's like someone's take one of those laser gun things and stuck it in my hand, only I've no idea what I need to do to get it to work reliably."

Hermione has enough worries when it comes to the shards. She doesn't like the idea of there being some foreign magical object embedded into her hand, and she certainly doesn't like the fact that this foreign magical object apparently might be a beacon for demons on the other side of the Veil. But knowing that the extent of its magical capabilities might just be much more powerful than simply being able to close up a rift is something else altogether.

Gingerly, she reaches out for his shard hand, careful not to touch the dim green glow as though afraid that that same energy is going to burst out towards her. "How-... how long have you been able to do this?" she murmurs softly, looking down at his hand for a few moments before looking up to meet his gaze. "Who else knows? The advisers? Solas?"

"Aye, I'm fairly sure the advisors know. It first started happening when I was out on a mission back...oh, a few months ago."

He knows full well that reports are filed for those, even if he hasn't had to personally submit one himself. Chances are someone's said something in one of those at some point, or word's gotten back to them some other way, just as he's fairly certain Solas knows what's going on, for much the same reason. At least now that he was able to get the mark to cooperate he knows he doesn't have to worry about inadvertently shooting Hermione - something he hadn't been sure about until just now. Still, even though he lets her take his hand, he still keeps it turned away from them...just in case.

"Likely Solas does as well, although I'd not had much success when I went to go ask him about it. But I'm thinking he's been told about it one way or the other, since he's supposed to know the most about the these marks in general, and they'd want his advice. I've no idea what they've said to him about it, though."

"He should have come to you and tried to help you!" Hermione started immediately. "The mark is changing - evolving! Even if he had no interest in the marks, that's at least something to research! You could hurt yourself or someone around you!"

And what if it isn't an isolated case? After all, if Jamie could randomly develop something that could be referred to as an ability, how many other rifters might find themselves being able to do something similar? Hermione has suddenly images of sleeping peacefully, her hand cradling her head, only for the shard to suddenly discharge whatever magic it uses and render her headless.

"Has anyone else been able to do this, do you know?"

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