faderift | [Open] Sometimes...

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[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.

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Much as she likes Jamie, Hermione just isn't comfortable crying around anyone here yet, not unless she really can't help herself. But she likes to think that she can help herself most of the time, and so she takes another deep breath, wiping at any fallen tears with the heel of her hand.

"There hadn't been anyone here from his world when I'd first spoken to him," she murmurs softly. "But that was so long ago...." Feeling a twinge of illogical guilt, Hermione finds herself burying her face against Jamie's shoulder a bit more. "I can't believe I hadn't sat down and spoken to him in so long. He saved me in the Fade. You'd think I'd have known that something had happened to him."

There's no shame in greeting over the loss of a friend (or crying, to put it another way), but it's Hermione's choice to decide who's she's comfortable doing that with. If that choice doesn't include Jamie right now, then he'll accept that. He can still be here for her in other ways, and stays where he is, only the hand that's on her arm moving at all, rubbing up and down in a reassuring way. As far as he's concerned, she can stay as close as she wants for however long she needs to.

There's a small grimace at her words, though, a flicker of his own guilt coming to the surface for a moment. He doesn't even remember the last time he'd spoken to Kane, and maybe that's something he should've changed when he had the chance. Now, it's too late, and there's not much he can do - except possibly say find a way to say goodbye. He might have an idea or two there, but Hermione's more at the front of his mind right now, and he winds up shaking his head.

"You can't fault yourself for that, though, Hermione. You'd said yourself you'd been out on a mission. You know as well as I do that we don't always get news during those." There's a pause, and he adds, a little quietly, "Think it's one of the things I like the least about being here, being out of touch like that."

While Hermione and Kain hadn't been exceptionally close, the loss of a rifter still hits far too close to home. It makes her hold onto Jamie just a little more tightly, and also makes her wonder if she'll ever be able to hold onto any of her friends from home ever again. It's not the sort of mindset she wants to be in, so she forces herself to give him one small squeeze before loosening her grip a bit, though not necessarily releasing it entirely.

"Sometimes I wish we could just choose not to go off on missions," she murmurs softly, still looking down. "But some people of the Inquisition already don't trust us as it is, so they wouldn't exactly want a bunch of freeloaders hanging about. I still don't think it's fair that we're forced into situations where we might die and no one outside of our team and the advisers would ever know....."

Taking a deep breath, she finally forces herself to look up at Jamie, pretending for all the world that she isn't as torn up about this as she is. "At least most of us seem to be somewhat accustomed to some sort of danger back where we come from."

"Aye, well, suppose that depends on if you've actually joined the Inquisition or not. You're not bound by any orders if you've not, you know."

Although he understands not wanting to be a burden or a freeloader, especially given how most people tend to think of rifters. It was part of why he'd joined in the first place - to prove that he wasn't a demon, he was a person, and one who could pull his own weight if he needed to.

That wasn't the only reason, though, and at her comment he winds up pulling at his lower lip with his teeth. It's not a true tug, just a momentary thing where there's a tiny bit of motion there before he winds up shifting instead, turning to fully face her and put his arms on either side of her shoulders as he meets her eyes with a serious expression.

"But it's not about the danger, either. This place may not be our home, but there's a lot of people here who need our help. Aye, maybe we got stuck here, but I can't just sit back and let Corypheus win. If that means that I'm taking a risk by fighting for the Inquisition, aye, well. It's my risk to take. And even if I die here, I know I'll have done my best to try and help where I could. I'd not change that, any more than I'd change the time I'd spent traveling with the Doctor."

"And how long do you really think any rifter who hasn't joined up with the Inquisition will be tolerated?" she asks, frowning at the thought. Granted, she hasn't heard of anyone being turned away from Skyhold, since the advisers seem to understand that it's better to have the rifters here with them at least until they can learn more about their shards, but she's certainly seen people look down their noses at the rifters who are helping. She'd hate to see what they do to anyone who doesn't routinely go out on missions or keep a job hereabouts.

She's snapped out of those worried thoughts when Jamie puts his arms about her and looks her in the eye. There's truth in what he says, and she understands and respects it perfectly, even if the thought of someone like Jamie dying without ever seeing home again is just as frightening as the concept of the same thing happening to Hermione.

After taking a deep breath, she nods briefly as she slips her hands up towards his shoulders as well, trying for a small, encouraging smile. "You'd make a wonderful Gryffindor, Jamie McCrimmon. That may be why, while I'll never be happy to fight, I'll always be grateful to be able to fight by your side."

"Och, I don't know what a griffon's door has to do with anything, but I understand why you'd not be happy to fight. I- well, I wish you'd not have to fight at all, to tell you the truth."

Part of that stems from the way he was brought up, and learning to accept that part of things has changed is something he's still working on. But part of that is that the thought of something could very well happen to Hermione, and the thought of that bothers him more than he tends to let on. Still, he manages to give her a small smile back, his fingers curling against her arms for a moment in a tiny but hopefully still comforting squeeze.

"But I know that you'll not turn away from doing so, even though you don't like it. So that means I'll fight by your side so long as you'll let me. And..." He gestures over towards the pipes with a nod of his head. "Maybe we can do something else together, too. I'm thinking we should say goodbye to Kain properly. What do you think?"

Hermione offers a small laugh at his comment about a griffon's door, though before she can manage to clarify what she means, he brings up the fighting bit again. Very little of her time in the Second Wizarding War involved actual combat; mostly it had been research mixed in with hiding and subterfuge, mixed in with even more research. That doesn't seem to be the way of things in Thedas. While there were one or two people about who seemed to place some value on knowing their enemy and understanding the shards, the vast majority of Skyhold seemed content to stick their swords into things until they quieted down.

But if nothing else, she hadn't been lying. Jamie had proven himself capable of combat, and he also showed that he was willing to watch her back without hovering over her. She doesn't mind someone making sure she doesn't get herself hurt, so long as they also manage to keep themselves out of trouble in the process. The last thing she would want is for Jamie to get hurt out of some ill-conceived notion that he'd need to protect her.

When he gestures towards the pipes, Hermione looks towards them, a small pang in her heart as she thinks of Kain again. It makes her shrink against Jamie just a little, but she at least manages not to shudder as she once again realizes how terrifying the thought is, that any of them might die before finding a way home.

"Unless you've a piano hiding nearby, I'm not overly musically inclined," she murmurs softly. "But I'll gladly listen to you play as long as you have a mind to."

"Aye, well, if the TARDIS was around, I might be able to help you with finding a piano. Think we might be out of luck there."

Even assuming the TARDIS is around, which Jamie's fairly certain it's not. He's not heard of anything that comes even close to what the TARDIS looks like, and even if for some reason it is here, there's no guarantee that he'll hear about it. Still, he wishes a little that he could give Hermione a piano, even if just for a little bit, because playing might very well help in a way just listening wouldn't. Thinking about that gives him an idea, though, and he suddenly snaps his fingers before turning back to her.

"Hey, I've just had an idea of something you might be able to help with instead, though. There's a song I heard while traveling with the Doctor, but it's a wee bit past my time. If you know it, though, maybe you can help me out by humming it a bit, and I can pick it up from there. Have you heard of anything called 'Amazing Grace'?"

Though Jamie has mentioned this TARDIS more than once, she doesn't exactly have any solid idea about what it actually is. It's a device of some sort, clearly; something used by this Doctor Jamie's told her about, likely for travel. Everything else, though, is a mystery to her, and he never seems to bring it up at a time when she isn't preoccupied with something else. Perhaps that's simply the nature of it, really: a means by which to help sort out that which preoccupies people.

The little snap of his fingers startles her, and she blinks up at him as he remarks over his idea. "Oh-... of course. It's famous. Isn't it?" It's a very old song, she knows that much, and while Jamie comes from a bit before her time, it isn't nearly so long before that he wouldn't know it. But it may just be a matter of him not knowing the words more than the actual iconic tune.

"I can-... I'm not a particularly talented vocalist, but I can sing it a bit, if that helps."

"Well...I suppose you could say that."

The hymn itself was published not too long after he'd left Scotland with the Doctor - about 30 years or so - but the tune for the bagpipes had come later, and with the craziness that tends to come along with traveling through space and time, he's never really had a chance to properly sit down and commit the whole thing to memory.

Still, he's confident he remembers enough that with a bit of help he'll be able to remember what he does know well enough that he can play it, and he winds up nodding somewhat enthusiastically at her suggestion.

"Aye, if you can do that, that'd be grand!"

She gives Jamie something of an odd look, trying not to ask too many tedious questions about what sorts of songs were considered standard stock where he's from. It's a bit maddening, having someone here from a part of the world with which she's familiar and still being faced with an odd sort of gap in terms of time and experience, but she can't exactly hold that against him.

So she lets it go easily enough, clearing her throat with an awkward sort of smile. Intellectually, Hermione knows that Jamie wouldn't judge the quality of her singing, given the context of it. But she still has a drive to be as perfect as possible in everything she does, and so she takes a breath before softly beginning.

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound...."

By all rights, she's not a bad singer at all, but she's not necessarily a good one, either. At the very least, she can carry a tune well enough for it to be followed.

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[Open] Sometimes...

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