faderift | [ Open ] You are a Giant Redwood, Falling on a Family of Deer

WHO: Avery and OPEN
WHAT: Another post-shardbearer-plot (this one) post! This one a slightly wider spread catch-all
WHEN: Late September/early October
WHERE: Around Skyhold
NOTES: Warning for grouchy, injured baker! Also, potential references to violence and torture and gore from said shardbearer plot

Kitchens

Anyone coming in for a visit or just down here passing by over these few weeks is probably going to be hearing a lot more banging and clattering and cursing than usual before they even reach the doors. Sounds which further investigation will reveal to be the sweet music of a very frustrated Avery trying to navigate the narrow spaces between counters in here sporting a sling on one arm and a crutch under the other. What with her junked-up shoulder and still heavily bandaged leg, y'know?

If they're lucky, they might even get the pleasure of seeing her fumble at doing simple tasks one-handed or knock over a tray of breadrolls with her crutch and transcend anger into a quantum state of silent fuming. The kitchen has never betrayed her like this before.

Healing Tents

Hopefully it won't be like that for too much longer though. And it's this hope that has Avery diligently visiting the healing tents at the appropriate intervals to have the progress of her wounds checked on. The shoulder, thankfully, is not so bad, as long as she makes sure to keep from moving it around too much for a while, but the leg... Well, it turns out giant, magical wolf bites don't really give a damn about magical healing. They're stubborn like that and refuse to go away on anyone's schedule but their own!

Stables

During those moments when Avery doesn't have reason to visit the healing tents but has been shooed out of the kitchen to do this thing called... relaxing? (She thinks she might have heard of it once, but she really has no idea what such a strange and foreign concept could truly be. It sounds like a trap.) She usually wanders down to the stables to check in with some of her favorite horses and maybe have a go at brushing out their manes and tails while she's at it. Hopefully without being disturbed by anyone, but everyone knows how likely that is to work out for her.

Training Grounds

Though lately she's been spending a little time watching the soldiers train as well. She's not a terrible fighter herself, but most of what she knows is about how to make your average bully or mugger eat their own teeth. If she'd had real battle training like these people, would things have gone differently on that last mission? She can't help but wonder about it as she silently observes.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I don't know. I don't even know if I will, really."

She frowns and rubs at her sore shoulder a little, continuing, "I mean, I know how to fight. But giving a couple of arseholes in an alley a thrashing isn't the same as facing off with a knight in armor or a mage... or a bloody monster."

She smiles somewhat crookedly when Avery says mage; for all of Amélie's own magic, she's not sure it'd be much good in an actual fight. "Well, that's why you've gotta learn, right? I mean, you're in the right place for it. Funny thing about the Inquisition," she says, staring off just a little into the distance now, "it makes you think that anyone can be anything."

"Have I though?" she asks, scowling at no one in particular. "I'm no soldier. The thing I can do best for the Inquisition is done right here. Maybe I ought to stick with that and leave the missions to people who are trained and ready for it."

Amélie hums in agreement, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "I used to feel that way. Still kind of do, really. But I can't go back to my old life, so I've got to try and make myself useful here."

Avery shrugs. "There's other ways to be useful than fighting. If all they had here was soldiers, they'd all be starved and bleeding in busted armor and empty coin-purses in a day."

Who says that she has to do more than she already is? That it isn't enough somehow?

She snorts a little at that, inclining her head in agreement. "True enough. Guess I'm still trying to figure out what it is I'm actually good at."

"Yeah, well, there's got to be something, yeah? Even if it doesn't always feel like enough," Avery mumbles, running a hand through her hair. It's how she's been feeling lately at least, though a lot of it may be frustration at realizing she has literally nothing to do with her day if she's not working.

"I know that feeling," she says with a startled laugh, leaning her weight to rest more heavily on her right foot. "Healing is what I'm best at, but... what's the point when there's so many people here who are far better at it than me?"

Avery shrugs. "Well, they might be good, but they can't be everywhere." Then she smirks a little and nods to the bow Amélie carries, adding, "Plus, you can always shoot them, and then you'll be the best."

Was that a joke? It might've been a joke. Still, Amélie can't be too sure, and her brow furrows in confusion as she makes an awkward, throat-clearing side. "That's - that's not why I'm practicing, by the way."

"I kind of figured not," she confirms, sounding amused.

Of course it had been a joke. And here she'd thought she'd gotten better at identifying humour since she'd joined the Inquisition. Feeling somewhat chastened, she answers. "Oh. I just thought-- to make sure, you know? All sorts here. Didn't know if you were one of them."

Not really taking any offense, Avery just nods and says, "You're not wrong about that."

She looks around at the people walking and talking and training nearby. "All sorts. Some of them, I wonder why they're really here, or even allowed to be."

She looks around in the same direction as the other woman, but is bothered to find she can't discern exactly what she's referring to. "You think the Inquisition should send some people away?"

Avery doesn't seem to be looking at anyone in particular. Just glancing around at a bunch of people who she relies on to keep her and the rest of the world safe but who she does not know in the slightest.

"I don't know," she says. "It's not as if I know nothing about being a leader or reading people or whatever. But I've got to wonder if there aren't at least a few here who are more enemy than friend."

"It's like that anywhere, isn't it?" Amélie asks, brow still furrowed in confusion. "You never really know who to trust. Got to trust anyway, at least if you want any friends." She pulls a face.

"Or so I've been told."

"Is that what we're here for? Making friends?" Avery asks, but not harshly. She's aware that for many people, that's a lot simpler than it is for her, but really, she finds the whole concept kind of baffling.

"I thought the Inquisition was meant to fix things. Help people, stop wars." Not protect those who started them.

"Probably helps if you like the people you're fighting and working alongside. Might be tempted just to let the whole world hang, otherwise." She shrugs. "I'm not sure if I've really made any friends since I've come here. I just like to help out where I can, and in return, this is probably the safest place in Thedas for someone like me."

Avery gives her a curious look at that last bit. "How do you figure?"

She grins, but the expression does not quite meet her eyes. "I'm a mage. Some people don't like us an awful lot. Not that I blame them."

She's quiet for a long moment before she answers, "There's a lot of people who'd be in a real foul state if not for the Inquisition. Whatever people think of them. Repaying that kindness and keeping it alive for others who need it...

"Not so bad a reason to be here, I think."

"Maybe not when you put it like that," she scoffs, scuffing a boot against the ground. "My main thought really was, 'where can I go that I won't end up dead'? Simple, really."

At that, she just tilts her head a little and gives a small shrug. "Suppose that's a fair reason as well. I've come close a couple of times already. Not really looking to push my luck again either."

[ Open ] You are a Giant Redwood, Falling on a Family of Deer

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