faderift | THE FALLOW MIRE

THE FALLOW MIRE

WHO: Open to all
WHAT: The Inquisition sends forces to the Fallow Mire to deal with undead, plague, and missing scouts.
WHEN: Firstfall
WHERE: The Fallow Mire: Inquisition camps, Fisher's End, The Tavern, etc.
NOTES: For more information about the setting and RP opportunities in it, check out the OOC Post.

The trip down the mountains from Skyhold is no walk in the park, and south of the Hinterlands the land turns wet and miserable, subject to seemingly endless storms. Villagers have tried to carve out a meagre existence in the Fallow Mire, but their lives are under constant threat by a tidal wave of undead rising from the murky waters flooding much of the region.

The Inquisition has sent a sizeable force, and travel back and forth between the Mire and Skyhold happens as often and as quickly as conditions allow. The camp is a neat patch of tents on the largest bit of dry land to be found. "Dry" is relative; everything's still pretty muddy. There are several clusters of tents, tucked between rock outcroppings and abandoned buildings, the least leaky of which are being used to store what supplies the Inquisition has managed to haul in over the difficult terrain. Campfires are numerous and fill the area with a constant smouldering glow and low-hanging cloud of smoke that mingles with the morning and evening fogs. It's lovely, really.

Fisher's End barely even counts as a village-- just a haphazard handful of ramshackle buildings perched on the edge of the swamp-- but it does have a single tavern. It's a dreary-looking wooden shack like every other structure in the area, distinguishable only by the lamp still lit above the door and the sign that swings creakily in the breeze. Whatever was painted on it has long since worn away and been molded over. The place is just known as "the tavern" because it is literally the only tavern for miles and miles around.

Inside is dim and smoky from peat-burning fires in the two grates. There are a half-dozen tables with benches, none of which ever seem quite level on the uneven floor. The bar is tended by Thorolf, a grizzled bearded fellow with a local accent so thick he's almost unintelligible. No matter the time of day he serves a simple fisherman's meal of hard bread, salted fish, and a hunk of strong cheese. His cellar is stocked with exactly three varieties of alcohol: one ale, one wine, and one spirit, all of which are strong and dark. There aren't many locals left, but there are usually a few hunched over a mug or huddled around the fire.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He had figured that what Krem wanted to talk about was serious, perhaps about the new wave of Rifters that had just appeared, or maybe something dealing with the Chargers even. That he would have expected. How Krem was looking at him right now though, it is obvious that the mercenary had something else to talk about. Rifts and fighting Krem dealt with a certain calm and confidence that Sam had gotten used to over the time. This look though, it was intense with a level of worry, as if Krem was expecting the ground to give out on them at any moment.

Being told not to say anything doesn't help ease the growing nervousness in his own head, but Sam simply nods and turns his chair a bit so he can look at Krem better, showing that he had his full attention.

The first thing Krem tells him has Sam narrowing his eyes in curious confusion, not quite sure how to make out the vague description he was given right off the bat. His body didn't match? He's aware of Krem looking over his shoulder at Lady LeBlanc around this time before he describes the situation with more detail. The reaction isn't instant, but Sam's eyes do widen a bit when things are made a bit clear.

Oh. Oh. Oooooooooh... Oh?

At seeing the black cloth and how Krem literally seems to curl in on himself a few things seem to fall into place for Sam. The way that both Krem and LeBlanc had reacted to him peeking into the tent made a bit more sense now (some of the arguments had seemed oddly stressed). How he never saw Krem without his armor, even when relaxing. Why joining the Trevinter army had been at the risk of his life and why they had chased him down.

When Krem is done talking, Sam takes in a deep breath then lets it out slowly. By the way Krem is looking at him now, hidden mostly by blanket, it's obvious he's waiting for him to respond in some way, which is a bit nerve wracking. It didn't help that Adelaide was probably watching his back and also waiting for a response. It wasn't something he could easily respond to, not like how he usually did.

For a few moments Sam just sits there, staring down at his hands, running his fingers over each other. The corner of his lip twitches towards a smile but never makes it as a few things go through his mind. The way Krem had talked to him when they first had met; professional and only a bit interested. How that had changed when Sam surprised him in the ring and proved he could be something. How Krem smirked whenever he would talk about sending the Mage to the ground. The way Krem ruffled his hair or had grabbed his shirt to pull him into a kiss that night. Confetti bombs. How the man had been a grounding presence with just grabbing his hand, both a big but simply gesture. About how not too long ago Krem had been shot and how worried he had been about it.

The tent is unusually quiet that breaking the silence makes him nervous. "I've actually never thought about what was under the armor. I was a bit too distracted by the actual person in it." Only once the words have come out does he glance up, curious to Krem's response.

The color in Krem's face rose at that, and he looked down at the blanket bunched in his lap, actually feeling a little bit ashamed of himself because of the sheer innocence of Sam's reaction. He swallowed hard and picked at a faulty seam of the blanket. When Sam's eyes had focused on the black, it had been curiosity, then realization, and he hadn't even looked away until silence had fallen.

This is...weird, to say the least. Weird in that it's really, really not. And not even in the way that Zevran had succeeded in not letting it get weird. He'd need time to process it. His mouth opens, closes. There were a lot of things he wanted to say, all of them crowding up against eachother and keeping any of it from getting through. Sure, he was prepared to knock Sam out and leave with his armor, go back to the tent he shared with Korrin and Ellana and stay there until they were all due to return to Skyhold, but this?

He reaches a hand out of the blankets finally, after the silence has stretched out a little too long for comfort, and lays it against the back of Sam's head. He pulls the mage down slowly, leans his brow against Sam's, then kisses the spot before curling back up in his blankets, his knees pulled up to his chest, arms looped around his legs and holding them. His chest hurts in a way he can't decide whether it's good or bad, probably giving Compassion cause to pluck at Adelaide for attention.

The way Krem presses their heads together and then kisses his brow is kind of comforting, maybe even a little bit intimate after the heavy subject they had just gone through. It would have been nice to feel or even give a bit more of an embrace after that, but by the way Krem literally curls up in on himself, Sam thinks better of it. This has to be hard for Krem and it isn't lost on Sam on how big of a deal it is for the man to have told him. Probably more so right now since Krem hadn't planned on telling him just yet.

It's only at that time that Sam finally looks away to peer over his shoulder, seeing Adelaide still fussing with tea in the back of the tent. She must have already known about all this if Krem had been fine with her in the tent while he had explained, and for her to treat his wound which obviously required him to remove his armor.

Sam gives a small sigh as he turns back to look at Krem, tilting his head just a bit. "Who else knows about this besides us two?" Including LeBlanc.

Krem's chin presses against his knees as he thinks about that.

"Besides you and Lady Adelaide? Bull does. Stitches, I think Skinner, Dalish...not sure Rocky was paying attention when it came up. A couple of the other men do. Lady Trevelyan did. Outside of that? Not sure." It isn't like he was hiding it, but he doesn't go around talking about it unless it's indirect, casually or poking fun at someone else, usually the Iron Bull. Krem looks back at Adelaide again, then huffs and sits up. He wants his leathers back at the very least, but they still smell of bog and blood, aside from being damaged. He needs a bath, and will probably ask Adelaide to stand guard at the springs so that he can take a bit to scrub off the mud and corpse stink. They'll probably be in near constant use at that point by other people wanting the same thing though.

"Have you got a spare shirt?" he sighs, looking back at Sam with his nose wrinkled. "Didn't expect to need one while I was here so I kind of packed light."

"I have one." She offers it, along with a mug of tea to Krem. "Roul's, so it may be a little long on you."

While the mage lacked Krem's musculature he was taller, enough to leave the garment baggy on anyone more than a few inches shorter than him that might wear it. "If I leave you both here to drink this tea and eat while I clean and mend your leathers, can I trust you to actually rest and eat?"

Neither of them were truly ones that would sit and rest unless made to do so- then again it is not something she can begrudge either of them if the way she runs her hand through Krem's and Sam's hair is any indication. They've both quickly become dear to her in short order, and while she cannot do much for the armor- leather? She can patch. Mostly. More or less.

Sam nods thoughtfully at that, rubbing his cheek a bit as he thinks over the names. It's not like this is something he would talk about, Krem was just Krem after all, but if something ever came up it was better to know who he could go to.

At the mention of the shirt, Sam blinks for a moment before a slow smile spreads over his face. It's a bit silly that Krem didn't pack another shirt, but he's more than willing to lend one of his own. At least until Adelaide steps in and offers Krem one instead. As well as a cup of tea. It certainly had taken a while for her to make that.

The hand running through his hair is both a surprise and a comfort, and Sam gives an amused snort when his hair ends up in his face. "Are you sure you're alright to do that? You've been working all day taking care of people."

Krem's thoughts are along the same lines when he's presented with that cup of tea. He blows his hair back away from his forehead, making a face at Adelaide but handing over the leathers for her to see to. "You don't have to do this, but thank you," he said quietly, rocking forward some on stiff knees and bumping his jaw against hers.

When they were left alone, Krem pulled himself up near the coals, holding his hands out to them and flexing his fingers. They were stiff in the chill of the mire, but it wasn't much of a problem while he was inside out of the weather. He's still feeling a little left of center after spilling so much out for Sam, still worried though without being able to really place why.

"Of course I have to look after my boys." That is what they are to her now. Her boys. Come demons, hail, or high water; they were hers now and she'll not give them up lightly. She goes one step further to drop a quick kiss to each of their foreheads before scooping up the leathers and her stitching kit, slipping out of the tent.

The least he can do is help with getting the flap untied and open for Adelaide since she still plans to go. Krem obviously needed his things repaired considering... things, but Sam has a feeling the woman is up to something since she could have easily done it in the tent with them.

Tying the flap back up, Sam stands there for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck as he watches Krem's back. There was an obvious tension in the tent now and he wasn't quite sure what to say or do. Nothing felt different, but at the same time it seemed like everything had changed in some way. He has a lot of questions, but this doesn't seem like the place or the time to exactly ask them.

Walking back towards his chair, he stops, tilting his head a bit at seeing Krem trying to warm his hands by the coals. "Are you still cold?" He doesn't give it a second thought to just reach down and grab one of Krem's hands to see just how cold he is.

The move surprises him more than he would like to admit; he was sure things would be different now, that maybe Sam would prefer to keep his distance. After all, that always seemed to be how these things went when people found out, either outright rejection, or drawing away in confusion, outrage, or misplaced respect for his personal space. So this? Is new.

Krem's fingertips are still chilled, but not dangerously so, and they're slowly warming back up as he sits there in front of the coals. They warm more quickly with Sam's around them.

"I...could...use a dry pair of socks," he points out somewhat anxiously. "I've got a pair in my things, back at the tent I share with Korrin and...Ellana? I think that's her name. The very pretty elf woman."

"Very pretty, huh?" he repeats, his brows raising in amusement though his eyes are still on Krem's hands as he focuses on warming them up. "From the Ashara Clan. Green eyes, purple vallaslin, honey blonde hair?" Not like there are a lot of Dalish Elves at Skyhold with the name Ellana, but still didn't hurt to ask. "We've met. Had a great time hunting... something down in the bog." Sam shakes his head as he recalls that bit of adventure, which he did not want a repeat of. "She is very pretty."

He's about to offer to go to the tent when something occurs to him, tilting his head slightly and looking up at Krem. "You're sharing a tent with Korrin and Ellana, and they don't know about this? I can't imagine getting dressed is easy." He's honestly curious since Krem seemed so freaked out at someone finding out about his secret. Or was it that it was only certain people he was worried about?

Krem nods. "We were assigned to the same tent, yes. I've ah...well. I've spent the last few nights sleeping in the leather under my clothes. It's not the most comfortable situation, but it's only for a little while, right?" He looks down their hands when Sam looks back at him, turning a little bit red around the ears. The lecture is coming, he's certain, about the dangers of sleeping with something wrapped so tight around your ribs.

That wouldn't be comfortable at all, not to mention not particularly safe for his health. His lips flatten into a line at the idea, indeed wanting to say something about that. But he doesn't. He recognizes that look and the body language, which he would not normally associate with the Charger. It just went to show how much this whole thing affected Krem.

"You should probably keep them off as long as you can now then. Maybe consider if Lady LeBlanc will let you use this tent for the night so you can get a better sleep." He gives a sigh, rubbing Krem's fingers a bit longer before letting them go. "Is there anything else you need from your tent besides socks while I'm there?"

Krem's expression tightens at the suggestion. Regardless of how sensible it is, it isn't going to help the crippling distress that comes with being unable to hide himself from himself. He doesn't let Sam know this, of course, hoping to waylay the fussing.

"No, just the socks. I'd beg a pair of yours off you, but I'm pretty sure your feet are almost twice the size of mine." He snorts and bumps his arm against Sam's before pulling his hands back under his blanket, pulling his legs up close to his body and sandwiching his hands between them.

There's an uncomfortable tightening in his chest at the way Krem's expression changes. He had said something wrong maybe?, and knowing that is a bit distressing, feeling at a loss what to do. Enough so that even when Krem bumps up against him, obviously making fun at their sizes, he just can't manage to smile at it like he would normally do.

"Alright, just the socks then." Maybe a change of clothes as well if he could he could find any. There's a stretch of silence as he watches Krem practically disappear under the blanket again before he lets out a soft exhale. Before he can double guess himself he leans in and lightly pecks Krem on the cheek, pulling back and getting to his feet before the mercenary would be able to untangle himself from the blanket. "I'll be back in a bit," he calls over his shoulder as he steps out of the tent.

Krem might have tried to leave the tent, find something to do with himself to distract from everything that had just happened to him, if he hadn't relinquished his armor and leathers, leaving him in the barest necessities and the pile of bedclothes Sam had dropped on top of him. He pulls himself a little tighter in under the covers, and before long, he actually starts to feel the exhaustion that the shock and adrenaline had been keeping at bay since he'd left the battle.

By the time Sam returned, he would be sleeping, still sitting upright with the blankets pulled securely around him, shifting at the slightest sounds from outside. It isn't particularly restful, but it's better than running ragged for fear of being seen.

It's some time before Sam returns, carrying a fresh shirt and pair of pants along with the socks. "I'm back," he announces at the entrance, loud enough to be heard, but soft enough not to bother anyone trying to sleep.

After slipping back inside the first thing Sam notices is that Adelaide hasn't returned yet. Probably still working on fixing Krem's leathers - hopefully by a fire at least. The next thing he notices is that Krem is in the same spot he had left him in. "I got your socks. I also got a change of clothes if you wanted-" his voice tappers off when he walks in front of where Krem is sitting, a bit surprised to find him sleeping.

He supposed as a mercenary you got used to sleeping in all kinds of situations and positions. That still didn't look comfortable though. Even so, Sam can't bring himself to wake Krem up since he's obviously tired. He could attempt to maneuver the Charger so that he was laying down, but more than likely Sam would find himself with a fist to the face. Maybe. He wasn't exactly interested to find out.

Giving a light sigh Sam sets the clothes on the stool next to Krem before finding himself a spot near the entrance to sit down and keep watch. Seeing as he's not planning on leaving for a bit he strips off his boots and pieces of his gear, trying to be as quiet about it as possible.

The moment Sam had come back into the tent, Krem was alert, even if he didn't show it. He is learning to tell Sam apart from others by the way he moves, the sound of his footsteps particularly when he's approaching with something in mind. Sam moves with purpose when he has a reason to, he's learned.

He hasn't opened his eyes though, just letting Sam figure out what to do with himself. It's sweet, how thoughtful he's trying to be. Krem's head tilts some until his cheek is resting on his knee, a half-open eye on Sam.

"Thank you."

The 'thank you' isn't very loud, but enough to catch his attention and have him stop what he was doing. His head raises and turns to look over his shoulder, noting the slight change in Krem's position before noticing the slightly opened eye watching him.

Slowly Sam finishes in pulling off the last bit of the armor and sets it down quietly with the rest, his eyes still focused on Krem. He gives a small smile after that, wiping his hands on his shirt to dry them off a bit.

"Did I wake you? Sorry."

Krem shakes his head some. "Don't worry about it. 's easy to get me back up, not your fault." He yawns, grinding his knuckle into his eye and sitting up to face Sam a little more fully. At the sight of the clothes he'd fetched, Krem sighs and reaches for the thick tunic, dragging it in under the blanket with him to pull it on.

"You should sleep soon," he pointed out as soon as he emerged, pulling the sleeves down and hunching to keep his chest from being prominent. His arms cross and he reaches a foot out to kick at Sam's knee. "If you stay in here, let Lady Adelaide know. She'll most likely be concerned."

This time when the foot comes out to push at his leg, Sam brings a hand up to grab the ankle. It could be because he's not used to seeing Krem's feet in general, but it's more Sam just looking for an excuse to touch him no matter how small or simple it was. This newest development does make him wonder about a few things, but he had been serious about what he said before; it was Krem as a person that he had been attracted to, not what he had under his armor. Even so he can see that Krem was pulling away and some sort of wall had suddenly gone up, and he was afraid of losing the little bit they had started to share.

It might not have seemed like much - brushing of hands, a peck there - but for him it meant a lot.

"Lady Adelaide left us here to eat and rest. If I left for my own tent before she got back with your things she would worry." Even though there is still a small smile on his face, Sam's voice is firm that he plans on staying there until LeBlanc returns. After looking at Krem's foot once more he releases it. "You should put on the socks and try to get more rest. I won't be able to rest for a while so I'll keep an eye out until she gets back."

"Best that she know you've chosen to stay, instead of doing some stupid chivalrous thing," Krem explains as he pulls the socks straight, then pulls his feet back under the blanket and glances around to find somewhere not bloodstained to rest. He doesn't really want to move at the moment, and so simply resigns himself to staying right here, his blanket tight around him to be withdrawn into like a turtle's shell.

He's quiet after that, watching the fire with half-lidded eyes, trying not to feel as off his game as he really was. Telling other people about this was easy. It didn't have romantic consequences for him. Now though, it feels like most of the world has fallen out from under him. He isn't entirely convinced that Sam isn't just staying there with him out of a sense of duty to Lady LeBlanc.

For a long while Sam just watches Krem, keeping to himself as he thinks about the man's words. Notes how he pulls the blanket more firmly around himself as if slipping on armor rather than seeking warmth.

He cannot get why Krem keeps insisting that Adelaide will be concerned or that he needs to go and find his mentor for any reason. Why- 'chivalrous'. It suddenly occurs to the Mage that Krem might not actually be talking about Adelaide at all. Did Krem think he was doing this all because he felt like he had to rather than wanting to?

His conversation with Zevran quickly pops up in his mind - blushing but purposely ignoring certain parts of the conversation. 'I am here. I have your back. I will support you'. Words and actions that conveyed that. Which he thought he was doing, but apparently being taken as his job rather than his actual feelings.

Before he can double guess himself, and certainly before Krem could dislodge himself from his blanket cocoon, Sam gets up and moves over so that's sitting against Krem's back. Tentatively he loops his arms around him, loose enough for him to pull out if he really wants, and lays his heads against Krem's back, which was easier to do since he was sitting on the ground still.

"I'm not. Some stupid chivalrous thing, I'm not doing that. I want to stay." He gives a sigh, tightening his arms around Krem a bit more, but still making sure the man doesn't feel like he's being held down.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

THE FALLOW MIRE

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject