[open] seven times I went down

[doneisdone]

WHO: Teren von Skraedder and anyone brave enough to visit her
WHAT: Teren got the veritable shit kicked out of her in this debacle. She is convalescing. Angrily. (she doesn't know how to do it any other way)
WHEN: After the shardbearer rescue plot.
WHERE: Camp Shady, more specifically her tent
NOTES: she's mean, also tw for some icky injuries

Teren is like a cat, and when she's suffering, she hides it under her otherwise sunny exterior and continues to go about her life. Generally this works out for her, but after a long and uncomfortable trip back from Nevarra, all she wants to do is go to her tent and collapse. She appears back in the Warden camp with a distinctive limp, a bundle of torn leathers, and cuts, bruises, and abrasions on every expanse of skin visible outside her modest and practical traveling clothes.
Greetings to her fellows are little more than a grunt and a wave as she looks right past them, staggering along and gritting her teeth until she can go lie down again. This she does, arriving at her and Blackwall's tent to find it half-empty, all of his belongings vacated with no notice.
Typical Gordon.

She takes to her bedroll and proceeds to not come out for over a day, and even then it's only to boil some water by the cookfire before she withdraws again.

She's Fine

Comments

[justice_is_blond]

He watches her limp in to her tent and half-stands when she waves. The implication is she doesn't need him, and while he's not sure about not following her, he won't press.

Of course, when she doesn't come out until late, Anders decides he's not going to assume. He follows her back to the tent and clears his throat.

"Teren? May I come in?"

[doneisdone]

"You may not," comes the answer from within, brusque as always but lacking some of the power, followed by the sound of her wearily lowering herself onto the bedroll again. She knows what Anders will do, he'll come in here and fuss. And there is nothing Teren hates more than fussing.

[justice_is_blond]

He sighs heavily.

"Teren, you're hurt. I saw how you were moving. Please let me in." It's less a request this time. She's his superior officer, to be certain, but he has some leeway as the Warden's only spirit healer. "I can sit out here all night."

[doneisdone]

"I'll have none of that Fade nonsense in here," she warns him, the sentence half-dwindling with a sigh as she relaxes back, "it'll heal on its own, the way it's meant to." Magic makes her too nervous: if it can't be touched or controlled by her own hands, it has no business interacting with her body.

[justice_is_blond]

He exhales, a little annoyed. He's a mage. He is 'Fade nonsense.' Pride battles his desire to help... And for one loses.

"Then I'm going and getting my kit and coming in with bandages and potions. It's either or, Teren. Pick which you'd prefer."

[byblow]

Whether he's brave or just sort of foolish is up for debate, but at some point Alistair stands outside of Teren's tent and says, helpfully and not at all obnoxiously, "Teeeeeeren."

[doneisdone]

At the familiar sound of Alistair's keening, Teren grimaces and throws a pillow over her own face. Perhaps if she plays dead and doesn't answer, he'll go away. Not that thinking she's asleep has ever stopped him before, but a woman can dream.

[byblow]

"TeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEren."

There's no hope.

"I'm counting to fifteen," he says, "and if you're indecent when I come in, I'll know it's intentional and you're trying to seduce me. One, two..."

[doneisdone]

As he counts, her mind races. Can she sew the flap shut that quickly? Not like this. Does she have anything to knock herself out? Besides tea, no, and that'll take longer than fifteen seconds.... does she have anything to knock him out? She casts her gaze frantically around the tent interior. Nothing. A diversion? Exploding powder? Bollocks, she wouldn't be able to get it outside, where's Kaisa when she needs her?

Actually it's probably better that Kaisa isn't here.

[byblow]

"... three, four—"

He sticks his hands through the tent flaps to demonstrate that he's counting with his fingers. This is complicated somewhat by the fact that he has a small, clear glass bottle of dark liquor in one hand. He counts as high as he can, anyway, until he's holding the bottle with only his thumb and a single finger, then makes a circular and so forth gesture with his empty hand.

"Eight, nine, ten... I'm bored."

He sticks his torso through the flaps, but not yet his feet, because he isn't entirely sure that Teren isn't asleep. Or dead.

"I brought whiskey."

[ungovernable]

Benevenuta is not as prompt as others to come to Teren's side, though it's not for lack of desire; she's been much in Orlais, of late, and been beset by business of the Mage Council upon her return to Skyhold. There is much to do and to consider and letters that must be written, some of them to her mother - Teren, she thinks, will understand. She would, in her place.

It doesn't occur to her to question whether that's a good thing for either of them.

Still; in time, she comes down, familiar enough with the wardens' camp to need no aid in finding her - gives distracted smiles to those she passes on her way, pretends to herself and to everyone else that she feels nothing significant about returning here - and, troublesome thing that she is, lets herself in unannounced.

"What am I to do," she says, quiet and light, "if you will insist upon going and getting near-killed by some Venatori monster?"

...carry on, probably. She isn't helpless. It would be a blow to lose her, all the same.

[doneisdone]

To hell with Orlais and to hell with mages, as far as Teren is concerned, but Benevenuta has her shady tasks and Teren won't begrudge her them.
She's about to complain when someone just shows themselves in, but then she hears a familiar voice, and she cracks her eyes open to see the girl there.
"Perhaps burn all the Venatori in their beds," she suggests, "it would certainly help your dear old nanny sleep a little more soundly."

[ungovernable]

"I should be grateful that's all the suggestion you have for their beds," is the light rejoinder as Benevenuta comes to sit by her, folding her hands neatly in her lap. "Think you I could turn any of them?"

Probably not, although it isn't completely outside the realm of possibility. She might have a bit of fun trying, before she slit a throat and called it a failed experiment.

She is not, however, earnestly suggesting she honeypot a Venatori. Just testing to see how this might've dulled Teren's edges - not at all, she hopes.

[doneisdone]

Teren actually considers it. "Might be worth a shot," she decides, with a smirk both wry and fatigued. "I'd prefer them in your thrall than out sending walking atrocities at innocent people minding their own business." So she was trying to stab a few of them, could she really be blamed?

[ungovernable]

"If I have the opportunity, then," with a bland smile. "You've everything you need, here?"

Besides the ability to get up and chase everyone out of her tent, presumably.

[unbrokenoath]

Kaisa is no healer, either with magic, or ordinary skills. But she cares, and Maker be damned if she isn't going to at least try to help. And for Kaisa, helping apparently involves bursting into Teren's tent with a basket of food and a pail of water. Those are things injured people need, right??

"Teren! I got you stuff!" She announces, just in case Teren somehow managed to miss that. And without further ado, she plops down and sets the aforementioned stuff in front of her. "I got you some venison. And carrots. And some apples." She announces, with the pride that is usually reserved for someone who had gone out and personally felled the deer. There's a pause, then a crack in the bravado as she glances at Teren, expression worried.

"Um--you weren't getting food. So. I got food. Do you need anything else...?"

[doneisdone]

Teren is lucky that she learned long ago to be a light sleeper, because if she hadn't heard Kaisa's approaching footsteps she might've jumped out of her skin and hurt herself more on the girl's abrupt entry.
But that's not the case. So it's fine. She does look a little murderous, though, her eyes snapping open to glare down Kaisa for several moments until the look softens, because bless her, the sweet fool is just trying to be kind.

"Mostly quiet," she says with a grim smirk, "though I suppose food is a thing people need. You have me there." Not that she feels like sitting up to eat any of it-- and as she rests her head back with a sigh, a thought occurs to her. "You can also tell Anders to stop fussing, he's driving me half-mad."

[unbrokenoath]

Whether Kaisa doesn't notice, doesn't care, or is just so used to Teren's murderous looks that she can shrug it off is up for debate, but whichever the case may be, any hints that Teren may be trying to drop that this was anything but a brilliant plan is tastefully ignored. Like Kaisa ever comes up with bad plans. Name one, Teren. That's right, you can't.

Meanwhile, the food is set well within Teren's reach, and Kaisa stretches out, laughing quietly. "I can tell him all kinds of things. I can't guarantee that he'll listen worth a damn, but I can tell him." She pauses, and shrugs. "You know what healer types are like. Though I guess I could put the pressure on him a little. It'll be a good excuse for when he was stepping on my toes, telling me we couldn't kill that fucking--You heard all that mess, right? About that talkin' darkspawn? Not Corypheus, the other dude."

[doneisdone]

With her arm moving like a spider's leg, as independently of her body as she can manage, Teren angles her head toward Kaisa in sudden interest. "The Architect," she corrects, "yes, I've heard of him. Why?" Seems he's been on everyone's minds lately.

[unbrokenoath]

"He caused the Blight." Kaisa said, in a matter-of-fact tone that clearly said that she thought that was all that needed to be said. "So, I was saying, I think we shouldn't tell anyone, and we should kill him. Anders is going on about how King Cousland made an alliance with the Architect, but--" And she shifts, because Kaisa is all about keeping your word, keeping oaths and promises that you're bound to. But she didn't make this one, and she was hard pressed to keep it.

"He caused the Blight." She repeats, a tenseness in her words. "He killed--You know how many people died in the Blight? People I knew." There's a pause, then, in a lower voice, "He deserves to die, and Anders doesn't agree, so he can go dunk his head in the river, for all I care."

[bookish_lioness]

Hermione still has her own troubles, and lately it seems that animals seem to be helping her cope with them. While she'd been spending a good amount of time with the Commander's small mabari, she knows she should probably leave him to his work; Garahel is, at least, a much older dog and so shouldn't be as excitable as Puppy.

When she heads to the Warden camp, however, she doesn't see Inessa or her mabari first. Instead, it's Teren, and she seems worse for wear as she putters over a fire. Immediately concerned and forgetting about her own problems, Hermione moves closer still, tilting her head to try and get a good look at Teren's face in case she's trying to put up a brave front.

"Teren? Are you all right?"

[doneisdone]

'All right' is an overstatement, but Teren isn't in the business of displaying weakness. Especially not to people she knows only peripherally, and especially when they are significantly younger and she has at some point advised them.
"Yes, what," she grumbles, turning toward Hermione and straightening with a wince; her face is healing, but still an unpleasant yellowish grey where she was struck in the battle. "Never better." She pauses, glances this way and that, then looks back at Hermione to scrutinize her.
"You're not sleeping with a Warden, are you?" she asks, in a tone that suggests she's going to be less than pleased if the answer is yes. Why else would a non-Warden be here? It's not like any of them have friends.

[bookish_lioness]

The lingering bruising on the older woman's face doesn't look good, and Hermione is silently working out a tactful way to bring that up when she's struck with an unexpected question. Struck being the operative word, because it looks as though she'd just been slapped in the face. What a thoroughly odd conclusion, especially being made right away and brought up so bluntly.

"W- what? No! No, most of the Wardens I know are - well - ... older. Than me. Significantly. Which isn't a bad thing! It just means I wouldn't sl-... not that I would otherwise but that I certainly wouldn't-...." She's stammering, and she hates it when she stammers, so she presses her lips together tightly as she lets out a long exhalation from her nose before continuing on.

"Inessa and I are friends. I'm friends with a few Wardens, really. A visit doesn't have to be anything scandalous."

[doneisdone]

Teren smirks a little-- it's not that her question wasn't serious, but she is also fully aware of how easily flustered Hermione is. It can... be difficult not to take advantage of that, when an opportunity presents itself.
But she's not about to bully anyone.

"I see," she says easily, "just haven't seen you much down here, is all."

[bookish_lioness]

Hermione doesn't get flustered easily. Not unless it has to do with an implication that she's bedding Wardens, or anyone else, really. That sort of gossip is every bit as inappropriate in Skyhold as it had been in Hogwarts, though she supposes that adults are perfectly allowed to gossip about whatever tickles their fancy. She'd just hoped the fancies of adults would differ a bit more from that of hormonal teenagers.

"I don't usually come here," she admits, breathing a bit more easily when she realizes that Teren isn't going to dig into her. "I just... needed a distraction, and mabari are usually fairly good for that. I'd been monopolizing Cullen's, so I thought I might come here to give him a bit of a break from me."