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.

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"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.

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THE FALLOW MIRE

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