CLOSED | The Mortification of the Flesh

[mythalenaste]

WHO: Cyril, Merrick, and Pel
WHAT: Cyril and Merrick give Pel a day of rest and recuperation.
WHEN: Harvestmere 8-ish
WHERE: Cyril and Merrick's quarters in Skyhold
NOTES: This post and its comments will refer to blunt trauma violence and aftermath. Also, the quote for the cut text comes from Call the Midwife.

The body is an extraordinary thing.

Healers have worked her broken nose back into place every time they have healed it, and every time, it has been agony. Her wrist and hand have undergone similar treatment, but will take even longer to heal. The bruising on her face isn't nearly as bad as it was a few days ago, but she still doesn't like to go out. She doesn't like people to see her like this.

The baby, for all she can tell, has no idea anything has changed. All reports from Anders have been that it is healthy and thriving and about the size of a kumquat. So she did it. She and her child survived their first existential crisis and she protected it. Him. Her.

Cyril has invited her to his room and has made no secret that he is going to treat her somehow. She arrives in comfortable, loose-fitting clothes. Her baby bump is small, but mostly she wants to be comfortable. Cyril will hear a knock at his door.

Comments

[samahl]

Cyril greets her at the door with a smile and ushers her in with a kind hand on her arm. To anyone who doesn't know him, he looks relaxed, and cheerful, but Pel will be able to tell there's concern in the corner of his eyes and that his jaw is just a little too tight when he smiles.

He hates that she went through what she went through, and wants to do what he can to distract her.

"So," he says. "I hope you don't mind being a tester. If I'm going to seriously set up some kind of spa situation in this castle, I'm going to have to protect my manicuring ability." He already set up a nice chair for her to relax in that has a tub of warm water by the feet. "I also filled this up with some oils that should help with any soreness." She's not at the big baby bump stage yet so the strain isn't as bad as it will be soon, but that doesn't mean she isn't achy - even more so after what she just went through.

[mythalenaste]

Pel's right hand is in a sling, and has been a source of incredible pain these last days. There are only so many pain medications she is allowed, so it has mostly been ice and elevation. Thinking about gussying up her hands almost seems sacrilegious...but no. Maybe Cyril has a point. Her body has served her and her baby well in this last week. It deserves to be treated well, doesn't it? Not punished for being weak and ugly and in pain.

She sits carefully in the chair and sinks in with a sigh. Her trouser legs are rolled up to her knees and she sets her feet in the steaming water. And--Ohhhhhhhhhh.

Did she really just make that noise?

She gives Cyril an apologetic glance, but doesn't really care that much.

[samahl]

Cyril doesn't seem to mind at all that she makes a noise like that. It is kind of the point after all. He goes to get some cushions so that she can support her arm without having to wear the sling around her neck. He probably can't do much more than color her nails on that hand, depending on how bad it is he might not even be able to do that, but he can pamper the other one a bit. Plus, he feet could use some attention.

"Are you already dealing with the sore feet that women usually get? Or is that later?" he asks as she sets her up to support her arm. "I have some things we can rub into them to help. And something for your stomach to help with any stretching of your skin."

[mythalenaste]

A soft chuckle. "You've thought of everything." Her good hand slides over the very small bump, one only perceivable to her, where her womb has lifted out of her pelvis. "My feet are only sore if I spend too much time off them. They aren't supposed to swell too much if you're healthy. It's the hot water I'm loving. It makes me feel. Relaxed. Less tired. They never tell you everything takes twice as much energy when you're pregnant."

[samahl]

Cyril smiles a bit at the idea that he's thought of everything. He considers the water as she speaks. "That might be because some of it is being used to grow a baby," he says thoughtfully. "That has to take it out of you."

[mythalenaste]

A touch of a smile. "It's. A bit transcendent, isn't it? A while ago I was just me. Now I'm making a brand new person."

She flexes her toes, releasing more tension as she does so.

"I have two brains," she adds with an amused look. "Two brains are inside me right now. And this is completely natural. My body is designed to create new brains and other complex organs the most elite of scholars can barely even map. This is easily the weirdest thing I've ever done."

[samahl]

"It is it's own sort of magic, isn't it?" Cyril asks. He makes sure she's comfortable before going to get some of his supplies to do her nails. "Something even more incredible than conjuring fire or frost."

[mythalenaste]

Little things, lately, are making her melancholy or anxious. Fire, used to burn the Dalish camp to facilitate their escape. Ice, which allowed her to cut through her bonds. Her smile vanishes and she looks pale, withdrawn.

[samahl]

Cyril notices the change and instantly gets concerned. "Pel?" he asks. He gently touches her arm. "What's wrong?"

[mythalenaste]

"I conjured ice," she says quietly, "to kill Pryderi. He had Sina. So I put a spike through his heart."

She blinks several times.

"Should I have let him kill us? Is that what Thranduil was saying?"

[samahl]

Cyril instantly regrets his choice of words. He rubs her arm gently to try comfort her. "No," he says. "Thranduil was jumping to conclusions without understanding what you went through. He shouldn't have."

[mythalenaste]

"He was cruel. Even when I explained, he was cruel."

[samahl]

Cyril's jaw tightens a bit but he doesn't dwell on whatever mixed emotions he has about what Thranduil was saying. She matters more. "I'm sorry," he says after a moment. "I asked him to back off. He said he would."

[mythalenaste]

"There's more. Not of him being cruel, just...I thought it was very strange."

She is calming. It's possible she should have told him this earlier.

"When we first met, he was asking me to take him to see the halla. Once we were there, he asked just one question. He said...something, I found it offensive but I can't remember what it was. And he told me to leave him alone with the halla. I apologized. He said...something about how we both ought to be able to hear the halla's thoughts, and that I've never lived in a world that is as it should be. It...concerns me, that he looks at us that way. Not because I think he has any power, just...be careful with him, Cy. He wants something."

[samahl]

Cyril's eyes narrow a bit, and because she knows him and has learned how to read him even when he tries to hide everything, she can tell that he wants to say something but won't because he's more concerned for her than anything else.

Instead, he rubs her arm a bit more and tries to change the subject. "I'll be careful, for now we should focus on trying to help you feel better, remember?"

[mythalenaste]

"That did help me feel better. Getting that off my chest. There are a lot of things on my chest right now." She brushes her face with her good hand, looking a little less pale, a little less drawn. "But you wanted to say something, didn't you?"

[samahl]

Cyril pressed his lips together for a moment. "I did, but it's not important right now."

with Merrick

[mythalenaste]

After the pampering, Pel is settled in her chair with her feet propped up and a cup of hot tea at her elbow. She has made a two quick ice packs for her nose and the broken hand, which actually feels better after just that little bit of nail-painting. She is feeling the best she has since the abduction.

When Merrick enters, she moves the cold compress from her face to give him a sleepy smile in greeting.

[dalishious]

Merrick enters with a small basket on one hand and the neck of his guitar in the other. He sets both items down and leans in to gently kiss Pel first on the cheek and then very lightly on her nose.

He sits on the ground beside her and starts taking items from the basket. There's some dried meat from one of his own kills, and some bread and fruit he'd stolen from the kitchen. There's also a tiny cake, which he'd procured through completely legitimate means, of course. He sticks a strip of meat between his teeth and starts gnawing on it, and passes Pel a hunk of bread.

[samahl]

"Oh, a tiny cake!" Cyril says with surprise as he watches Merrick take out the items. "Was there only one?"

If there was, then it's Pel's. After all, the whole point is to make her feel better and tiny cakes are definitely a step towards that.

[mythalenaste]

She takes the bread and nibbles at it, finding it delightfully soft and easy to chew. She is extremely tempted by the tiny cake, but frankly, after Cyril's efforts, he deserves it.

"Take it. You've earned it, and I'm just as happy with the fruit." Indeed, she has had nigh-unbearable cravings for black cherries and currants. Also greens and bloody-rare red meat.

[dalishious]

"It's for Pel," Merrick had scowled at his brother, but accepts Pel's decision to hand it over even if he's a bit cranky about it. This is about Pel. He can muss up Cyril's hair something fierce later.

For now, he takes his instrument in hand, just strumming a gentle tune while he gnaws on the strip of meat in his mouth.

[samahl]

Cyril doesn't eat it right away to give Pel time to change her mind. He had asked if there was more than one just in case he could have one, not to take the only one. FOr now, though, he can settle in with her and listen to Merrick play.

"You earned it too," Cyril points out. "For all we know, you grew a tiny elven foot or a hand today. That's more impressive than doing nails."

[mythalenaste]

A bubble of laughter, but if Merrick insists it's for her, she won't refuse. That would be unacceptably rude. So she picks up the cake and bites off half of it, slowly, luxuriously. As she chews, she holds the rest out to Cyril.

[dalishious]

Merrick continues to play, keeping the tunes soft and gentle. His eyes settle softly on Pel, his gaze wandering to her slightly swollen belly.

"Do you think it can hear?" he wonders aloud. He has no idea what babies are like in the womb. Could it be listening?