faderift | [Open] Sometimes...

WHO: Jamie and you!
WHAT: Recovery after the events here
WHEN: Mid-Kingsway through the end of Harvestmere
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: CW for references to the shardbearer plot, so torture, forced lyrium ingestion, hallucinations, violence and other Bad Things. The first part in healer tents features lyrium withdrawal and may involve the possibility of the getting glimpses of other people's memories. If you would like to have Jamie pick up your character's memories, let me know via pm or in your header, whichever you prefer.

[Healers Tents]

It's no surprise that after being taken by the Venatori and experimented on, Jamie winds up having an extended stay in the healers tents. Not only does the lyrium have to work its way out of his system, contend with, he has a concussion and cracked ribs to contend with as well, and for the first couple of weeks he's fairly out of it, still having problems distinguishing people he knows here from people he knew back home. As time goes on and the lyrium wears off that starts to improve, slowly but surely, although his head still hurts and it's still hard to breathe.

[Still the healers tents]

Eventually, however, the worst of the lyrium has passed through his system, leaving him more his usual self - and that usual self is one that doesn't much care for being stuck in bed, no matter how injured he is. There's more than one time where he insists he's perfectly fine, and more than one time where he might very well wind up being caught at trying to sneak out of his bed and out of the the healing tents entirely. Whether or not he's successful depends on whoever catches him wants to do...but he's supposed to be resting, so steering him back to lie down is definitely always an option.

[New quarters and out and about]

Finally he's deemed well enough to be able to be let out on his own, and left to his own devices. The very tiny room that he's been working on fixing up for months now is finally done, and he's finally able to move his belongings out from where they've been stored and put them someplace he can call his own. He might have to look into getting a roommate at some point, but for now he works on settling in and getting back into something like a routine. Not too long after he's released from the tents, he gets a present of sorts - a set of dragon armor, crafted from his share of the hide of the dragon he helped to kill months ago. There's a fitting or two to make sure everything is where is should be, but once that's done, he settles into training, both with sword and shard. He knows he's got to be able to control that extra ability it's developed, or at some point someone's going to get hurt that he doesn't want to get hurt. So while sometimes he can be found at the pells like everyone else, other times he's in remote areas, practicing at reliably shooting those small projectiles out of the mark.

Days like that leave him tired and his hand aching, but while he used to pop around to the healers tents, even that ache doesn't seem to be enough to get him to go there any more. Instead he can be found at the tavern having a drink, or tucked away in a corner practicing finger exercises on his chanter. Sometimes he still goes to the stables, too, even though he isn't living there any longer. He likes being around the horses, and here more than anywhere else you can catch him idly carving small pieces of wood. Nothing he does is terribly fancy, but some of pieces do eventually turn into things someone could wear or display - well, if you happen to like tiny figures of various semi-recognizable beasties, that is.

[Once a piper... (end of Harvestmere)]

It takes quite some time for his cracked ribs to heal to the point where it doesn't hurt to draw a breath, and longer still before he's able to sustain the breath he needs to properly play, but eventually, one day, there's a noise that's possibly familiar to the people who know Jamie well - the skirl of bagpipes, the sound carrying from high up on the battlements and traveling throughout Skyhold. Unlike some of the other times he's played, it's a somber sound, the tune itself sad and maybe just a little haunting. There's a reason behind the song, a promise he'd made to himself awhile ago, and even though it may be a little rougher around the edges than usual, it's something he's determined to see through, even if there's a risk someone might come up and try and figure out what's going on. He can deal with that if it happens. Until then, he's going to play.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Yesss, that's good. Garahel woofs in agreement, happy to settle down as long as he's not forgotten. Inessa nods, a small smirk on her lips as she remembers. "The kennel master told me of a nobleman's son wanting a mabari and being so offended when none of them imprinted. He wanted one anyway, but the kennel master insisted that they chose, not him. I respected that; he cared about his hounds more than making a profit, and knew to respect their insight."

"Sounds like a wise man. The kennel master, that is, not the son."

There must've been something that the mabari didn't like with the son if they didn't imprint to him, beyond his being noble. He didn't think that part of things would necessarily make much difference - after all, he'd met both good and bad nobles before, and while an accident of birth could change some things, it didn't entirely define someone. He pauses in petting just long enough to scratch an itch on his arm, then goes right back to it, hopefully before Garahel gets upset that he's temporarily had to stop.

"So what sorts of things do mabari look for in people, anyway? Have you ever been able to figure that out?"

Garahel perks up at that pausing but is easily appeased, so no whining from him, honest. Inessa tilts her head, collecting her thoughts before responding. "It's not always easy to discern that, at least for an exhaustive list. If my experience is typical -and I cannot say, one way or another- then I would suggest that they prefer those who are interested in being equal partners with them, neither controlling nor doormats. It takes a strong will to partner with a mabari, and the most effective teams are just that, teams. I would never say that Garahel and I are anything less. He is my mabari, and I'm his elf, but we don't own each other. We simply are."

"Aye, well, maybe you can't say if it's typical, but I think it makes sense. Especially that part about teams."

Having someone there to watch your back - and have you watch theirs in return - is better than trying to go it alone, especially when you've found yourself in a tight situation. He's found that with the Doctor many times, and if Inessa has that with Garahel? Well, as far as he's concerned, that's a good thing.

"Maybe I don't know you that well, but if you ask me, I'd say the pair of you make a good team. Maybe I'll be as lucky to find something like that here someday."

Inessa smiles as Garahel gently paws at Jamie. "I think he believes you will find it, sooner or later. I've heard the Inquisition has contracts with a mabari breeder, though I haven't inquired since one is more than enough for me. But if you choose that path, and should one accept you, I'll gladly provide what advice I can. Bonding with a mabari can be greatly rewarding, but that isn't to say raising a pup is easy regardless."

Garahel gets a smile and another round of scritches - but for the most part, Jamie's attention is fixed on Inessa, a look of surprise clearly evident on his face.

"You would?"

The fact that she's willing to do that actually means a lot to him, even though he hasn't really given serious consideration to the idea before. It's something he'll need to think about, but that doesn't lessen the fact that he appreciates the offer, and after a moment, that look of surprise turns into a smile.

"Hey, thanks. Think I've got a few things to get through before I start thinking about that more." A quick gesture with his thumb indicates the cot before he gives her a somewhat rueful shrug, "But if I do -- and if one does accept me -- I'd not say no to a wee bit of advice. I'm thinking if it does happen there's going to be a lot I'll need to learn."

"I would, yes." Inessa nods, watching Garahel melt into a big furry puddle at Jamie's attentions. "And Garahel here will be glad to help, too. He's very good with pups, playful but gentle and intent on keeping them safe. I suppose I should see about him siring his own at some point, but there's no hurry." Truth be told, she could probably arrange for that now, but it would require Garahel to leave her for the kennels for a while and she's not ready to let that happen yet.

Garahel, perking up at the recommendation, lets out a happy bark, tail wagging. He loves mabari pups and their energy.

Maybe there's no hurry, but given that reaction from Garahel, Jamie can't help but grin just a little, one corner of his mouth turning up slightly more than the other in a slightly lopsided sort of way as he stops for a moment to flex his fingers.

"Oh, I don't know. He seems like he might fancy the idea of getting to sire a few pups of his own."

Although he doesn't doubt that the mabari would keep them safe, there's likely more to it than just that, and he knows it, and he leans back a bit, letting his hand drop back to his side for the moment.

"But I'll let you know too, Garahel, never fear. Mind if we take a break from the petting, though? Could do with another bit of a lie down, maybe."

Garahel let out a bark, then settles back down. He won't ask too much of the guy still recovering. "Alright, Garahel. I suppose you can watch over him while I finish my potions. And Jamie, let me know if you need anything else."

His eyes are already looking like they're thinking of slipping closed, but he does manage a small, if tired-looking smile for her.

"Aye. I'll do that. Thank you, Inessa."

[Open] Sometimes...

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