[closed-ish] revelations come at last

[eolasemah]

WHO: Sina and anyone who wants a starter
WHAT: The diplomacy mission did not agree well with her.
WHEN: Some backdated to Harvestmere 4th/5th, some current.
WHERE: The healing tents or Sina's tent in the garden.
NOTES: Warning for some icky injuries and pretty severe downers!

"Adelaide," comes a cry from the gates, and the newly-conscious Sina removes herself from Herian's horse to stumble towards the healing tents, the darkness staved off by her glimmering shard, which is definitely brighter than the last time anyone here saw it.
"Adelaide," she wheezes again, her voice thin and desperate, an injured fawn bleating for its mother; but with this part of the courtyard filled with only unfamiliar faces, she finds she's not strong enough to keep looking. Sina drops to her knees and hugs herself, keeping the palms of her hands away from her arms in strange clawlike poses. "Ghi'lan," she sobs, her voice growing quieter.

This is only the beginning of a long month in which few hear from or see her, as Sina is spending it curled up in a ball on her bedroll. She resists eating, won't talk to anyone without persistence on their part, and ultimately seems at a total loss of spirit.

[If you'd like a starter, hit me up!]

Comments

[serannas]

Ellana's brow lifts in silent question at Sina's gaze, but no answers come. Only unnecessary apologies.

"You've done nothing wrong, Sina. Nothing that requires an apology." Her friend was a victim of cruelty; or what happens when their people are determined to be as spiteful and savage as possible and wear it all with pride. She knows the Creators would turn their gaze away from such people if they were here. They might throw them into the void themselves.

[rowancrowned]

He watches her struggle for a few moments before stepping in, easing the spoon out of her hand and letting his own rest just below the back of her neck. He doesn't shovel the food into her mouth- he's patient, waits for her to open her mouth before he offers her more. He would do this for his own son. She's ill. She ought to be taken care of.

"Thank you, Sina." Hopefully some of that weakness will fade away once she's been properly fed and has more water. Again, he mourns the lack of a healer.

[eolasemah]

Sina shakes her head, regretting the request, but also fully appreciative of their support. "She'd never come here," she replies, "I... wouldn't want her to." Then Clan Dahlasanor might be in danger too, and they're too small of a clan to be able to hold their own against... the others. Should they decided Dahlasanor are traitors too.
"I'll... write to her in time. Soon." Sina nods to herself, and then again to Araceli. She thinks about it briefly, then just rests her head down again, the very idea making her tired. How much should she let it change her? She's not sure it hasn't already, entirely outside her control.

[eolasemah]

That's just the problem-- nobody knows what the Creators want, or what they would truly do, because they're not here.
"I've.." she begins, and finds her voice quavering as the weight of her own thoughts grows heavier. "...I don't like what I think about, now." Her lip trembles and she ducks her head as though to hide her face.

[eolasemah]

Sina nods, beginning to let her guard down slightly when she feels his hand on the back of her neck. It feels like home, being cared for this way-- not that she and her mother were that close in a specifically mother-daughter relationship, but she was, for a long time, the only small child in her clan. It took a village, so they say, and she feels their absence dearly.
But at least Thranduil is here. Several tears of exhaustion spill from her eyes as she relaxes against his grip.

[eolasemah]

Though it may not put her to sleep, Sina does at least calm down enough to rest quietly as Pel holds her. Her breathing evens out and she finds she can let her mind wander without finding danger, at least for a little while.

[gatheringstorm]

"Take your time. You'll find the words when you're ready, Sina. I know you will." She knows what's best for her own clan, so Korrin won't push matters, and time is probably needed anyway. Their offer can still stand if Sina changes her mind later, if clarity gives her a different perspective. But if it doesn't, then they'll respect that.

[serannas]

"What do you think about?" she asks, her curiosity at war with her desire to soothe Sina. But perhaps getting out as much of these inner thoughts as possible is what Sina needs.

[justice_is_blond]

At least she's petting the cat. That's something to be glad of. For a few moments, he lets that suffice. Purrelden knows her secondary job, she can give Sina a little comfort. After that passes, though, Anders takes a breath and scoops some food up on the fork.

"It's time to eat, Sina. You can continue to pet her if you'd like during, but I know you're weak."

[eolasemah]

Sina shakes her head, at least adamant about not inflicting her evil thoughts on Ellana. Not now, not ever. She can't even articulate that she doesn't want to talk about it, as though she's afraid that by simply opening her mouth the doubts will spill forward and ruin everything between her and her friend. It's better to just be silent and wait for it to pass.

[eolasemah]

Resting for several moments with her face nuzzled against the purring cat's side, Sina waits before answering. When she does, it's with a look that verges on guilty: an admission from one healer to another that she isn't taking care of herself, and isn't sure that she can.
"I'm not hungry," she says in a shaky voice, her eyelids fluttering as though she's about to cry again, which she likely would if she weren't so dehydrated.

[justice_is_blond]

He exhales slowly, putting the fork down.

"Soup, then. You have to be thirsty. I'll be right back. Purrelden, stay." Sometimes the command doesn't work, but this time it seems like the cat either wants to listen or cares enough about the elf to stay put. Anders leaves for a few moments, taking the tray with him, and returns with a bowl of soup before sitting back down next to Sina.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not going to take no for an answer." He gets a little of the liquid in the spoon and holds it up for her, sympathy in his voice and expression. "You're weak. You've not eaten much at all and your voice is trembling. Please don't make me force this down your throat."

[eolasemah]

Normally Sina isn't too easily bossed around, but she doesn't seem to mind it now-- she trusts Anders, and knows she's being foolish. As far as she's concerned, there isn't a bone in her body that isn't foolish, not a single breath or tear. She carefully receives the spoon, at least taking it in her own hand before she sips from it, her eyes downcast and ashamed. She remains aware of the cat's heat and comforting vibration, the only things making life bearable at the moment.

[serannas]

It always seems to be this way with Sina. She's a very private person, and even after a year of acquaintance, there are times Ellana thinks she hardly knows her at all. Maybe she'd know more if she was pushy and never let up, but she's always allowed people to come around in their own time, so she simply says, "All right," and goes back to cleaning up her friend.

[eolasemah]

Silent for a time after Ellana gives in, Sina feels a nagging guilt at having shut her down. She's just trying to help. She's just being the friend she always is, and can't conceive of how badly Sina has erred, in every conceivable way.

"Ellana," she says after a long silence, her voice quavering, "ar lath ma, lethallan."

[justice_is_blond]

He holds the bowl close when she takes the spoon, in easy reach so she can keep eating, before looping his now-freed arm around her shoulders gently.

"You're not alone, Sina. You've people who care, who aren't willing to let you slip away." Maybe she's not going to really hear what he's saying, but he knows that voices can help when someone's withdrawn from the world around them. To that end his is gentle and calm, low and careful.

"We're here for you. And we're not about to run out of soup, just as Purrelden isn't about to run out of purring."

hover text, yo

[serannas]

The genuine words coupled with how Sina's voice shakes makes tears spring to Ellana's eyes. She sets the cloth aside and wraps both arms tight around her friend, kissing her on top of her head.

"Ar lath ma. Mala suledin nadas... but you will always have me here to help you. I promise."

[rowancrowned]

"I have you, little one. All will be well."

As promised, he stops when the bowl is half empty, and moves it to the side, away from where it might be knocked by a stray hand, moving himself closer and letting his hand slide down to her shoulders, pulling the covers up to dab at the tears on her face.

"I think," he murmurs. "that you would feel much nicer if I were to fetch some clean sheets, and help you wash your hair, Sina. May I do that for you?"

crawls back from the plague

[foxsays]

"You'll have plenty of time. Messages take long enough and getting up and down from Skyhold is already bad with the weather being what it is." As impossible as it'd be for everyone to have sending crystals - nothing would stay secret, and if it comes down to it then Araceli knows that she'll value that before she values several other things - it'd be good for Sina right now. But why bring up things like that now. "If you feel like a change of scenery, you know where our room is too, yes?"

Does she? Araceli can't actually remember so she looks to Korrin because Araceli isn't really in the room often enough to always know who does and doesn't know where it is.

[eolasemah]

Although she's been avoiding contact with everyone she knows well, Sina can't deny that it's comforting to be held. She relaxes further, and gives a small nod against Thranduil's arm.

"Serannas, hahren,</i" she murmurs softly, abashedly. She never wanted anyone to see her like this.

[eolasemah]

Sina nods mildly, calmer at least if not happier. She vaguely remembers where their room is: it's... somewhere in the Keep, among all the other rooms the humans live in. And others. She's one of the few who has actively chosen to remain outside in a tent, but walls make her anxious.

"Thank you," she says to both, and lets that be that. Sometimes, sitting quietly with friends is the best medicine.

[rowancrowned]

"It is nothing," he says, and means it- doing this for her is such a small bit of mindness, and ought to set her to rights. He leaves only to peek outside the tent and make his request to someone passing by. Luckily, another elf comes, and with bribery and Thranduil's charm, it's not half an hour before he and the other fellow are hauling a tin washbasin halfway filled with steaming water, and then another set of sheets. Thranduil dismisses him, and then strips off his outer robe, rolling his tunic up to his elbows and taking a small cake of soap out from the sheets.

"Come here," Thranduil requests, stepping back up to the bed and offering her his arm. She's ill, and needs help bathing- he thinks no more of her eminent nudity than that of any other elf who he'd need care for.

[eolasemah]

Sina is Dalish, and her clan is small; bathing is done when and where it's convenient, by whomever is at liberty to do so. She has little shyness over disrobing, for the most part only dressing so modestly because she gets cold easily.
Following Thranduil's request, she steps gingerly into the water, removing her nightshirt as she does so, and lowers herself in with a weary sigh. Now that she's submerged in the hot water, she can't not appreciate its comfort, and it lifts her spirits slightly. The shard glitters oddly over the surface, refracting in patterns of light all around the tent. Sina watches the glimmering water as though mesmerized, in a despondent sort of way. It's beautiful, this thing that's killing her, this thing that has killed others like her.

[rowancrowned]

He dips the soap into the water, lathers it between his hands before he sinks them into her hair, washing the oil and dirt from it. He looks at the shimmer of green beneath the water. He has seen Men die from shrapnel, shards of rock that flew from an explosion, wood, once ceramics from a pot.

Thranduil combs his fingers through her hair, working the soap into her locks. "Lean forward, Sina, thank you."

He's never had the patience for healer's work, but this is not the exhaustive march against pestilence and fading.

"Does it pain you?" he asks, scrubbing her back.

[eolasemah]

It takes Sina a moment to realize what he's asking, and she nods slowly.
"Adelaide and I..." she begins, but trails off. Adelaide, whom she couldn't find on their return, who is just gone. Without warning, and possibly forever. "...it doesn't matter," Sina decides, curling her fingers against her sternum. "It's not going to come out."