(open) our memory will be my lullaby

[sulena]

WHO: Ciri, Saoirse and OPEN
WHAT: Arrivals, settling and a general catch-all for both of mine throughout the month.
WHEN: Post-Winter Palace.
WHERE: Skyhold.
NOTES: Starters in the comments if you're interested in a certain starter with either of mine, feel free to hit me up through PM or on plurk.

Comments

HEALING TENTS | OTA

[sulena]

With her passengers finally in the good hands of Skyhold's healers and horses tucked away in the stables for rest, Saoirse finally takes the chance to rest. It feels like it has been a long, long time since she has had the chance to do something so very simple but these years have been equally long. Some days it feels like she has not truly rested once since those harsh days in Kirkwall's blood soaked streets where every moment felt like it just might be her last but then she made it back to Starkhaven only to shortly rush back into that harsh storm.

It was quite different from her days in the Circle when she had her books, classes and songs. Even now, she quietly sings from her spot outside the healing tents as she waits to her news. Her bruised hands hold onto a smooth pendant made of red stone and with the Chantry sun carved into its face. Those familiar with Chantry hymns will likely recognize her quietly sung song and even if those not familiar with those hymns might simply note just how heartfelt her voice is as she sings.

Otherwise, she picks at the small amount of food she carried with her into Skyhold. Hard cheese and bread, it isn't a lot but enough for her after a week with even less to make sure that those with her that had been sick got what they needed.

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin doesn't usually hang around the healing tents without reason, since it's a hangout for Anders and in the name of not getting kicked out of the Inquisition, she keeps such encounters to an absolute minimum. Plus, healing tents are boring. She should know, having been forced into resting before.

But it's on the way to other places, and the quiet singing causes her to spot the woman she'd met in the Hinterlands. Bear attacks have a way of jogging the memory like that. And she'd heard something about recent arrivals filling the healing tents; some kind of poisoning, the poor bastards. The Vashoth woman doesn't head over immediately, but after a side trip to the tavern returns with a mug of something steaming.

"Saoirse, right? From the Crossroads? Here, thought you could use some tea while you wait."

[sulena]

Honestly, Saorise would likely think the same if she knew about the mage whose name was on everyone's lips back in Kirkwall. She would think it, of course but it is doubtful that she would act out. Her friends needed help, and she would get them help, no matter the cost.

She is still singing when Korrin approaches and offers a bright smile to the familiar face. It is quite hard to forget bear attacks and even harder to forget those that helped you survive said bear attacks. Needless to say, she is surprised by the steaming mug but happily accepts it.

"Mm. You got it in one." She says, chuckling. "And thank you for the tea. If nothing else it will be nice to feel my fingers again."

[gatheringstorm]

There's a wry smile from Korrin as she nods. "I thought as much. I know what it's like to wait outside these tents for word about those inside. It takes a toll, doesn't it? If it helps, I know plenty of the healers inside; they're the best I've seen, and I know they won't stop until they've done all they can."

[sulena]

"It can be rought but, in truth, this is the best I have felt since we departed for Skyhold. I know that if anything can be done to help them then I shall find that help here."

Of course, Saoirse does wish she could do more but she knows that she has done all she can. She takes a greedy sip of the tea and sighs pleasantly, grinning.

"Iongantach! It has been too long since I've had such wonderful tea."

[gatheringstorm]

That grin is infectious, as Korrin readily returns it. "I can't take credit. The tavern always has something warm, all the better for new arrivals. You're pretty resilient, I'll give you that. Most people wouldn't have been as perky after that bear incident, let alone after a long trek through these mountains. It's good to see such spirit around here."

[sulena]

Leaning back slightly, Saoirse's grin widens and she laughs happily. "I have always tried to remain positive even in the darkest of times. The smallest of smiles can sometimes go a very long way."

Admittedly it was more for her passengers than herself. In such delicate conditions, she feared that a positive outlook would help them remain stable until they managed to reach Skyhold's healers.

"And hopefully I will remain here for some time and help keep spirits up."

[gatheringstorm]

She nods encouragingly to that, always glad to see people pitching in during times of need. There may not be an overwhelming crisis now, but it will come and every able body will have a role to play. "No gonna lie, we can use all the help we can get, mage-wise and morale-wise. We're still here, and that has to count for something, but the road to not getting our asses stomped is a long one. I've been here for what feels like forever, so if there's something you want to know, I can probably answer."

[sulena]

"Then lucky for them, I'm rather capable of both."

She hasn't always considered herself the best mage at times but Saoirse has always thought of herself rather talented at keeping spirits up despite the situations at hand. It had been a sort of talent grown within the alienage and nurtured within the walls of the Gallows.

"Hmm! Would a tour be too much to ask? I must admit that I have been sitting here for some time and my legs could probably use some movement."

[gatheringstorm]

"Absolutely." Training can wait, and truth be told she could use a break. It might as well be spent doing something helpful. "C'mon, then. We'll head up the stairs and start at the main hall, going from there. The tavern's tempting, but I think that can be our last stop. The main hall itself isn't that exciting, but it leads to a lot of other spots, and it's right in the center of everything, so."

All that walking will make them thirsty, after all. She waits for Saoirse to be ready before heading up the stairs, a large buffer against the others heading down it.

[alankazam]

"Singing for your supper?" A short young man ducks from the tents, fumbling at the flap from a bandaged hand. "It's got to be worth more than that."

An owlish look to the plate — that tracks quickly enough to her battered fingers. His head tips in curiously, expression betrays the slightest hint of concern.

"How long have you been out here?"

[sulena]

"I'd sing something a little more cheery if that was the case."

She'd definitely have gotten out an instrument if that was the case. After all, Saoirse was not unfamiliar with having to sing for a few extra coin or even food in some cases. Usually they were tavern jobs, nightly bard work but she has sat at the corner of some busy street once or twice.

"Perhaps an hour," She says, peeking at the sky. "Two at the most."

[alankazam]

The meal's sad enough to fit, but his months with the Inquisition haven't robbed Alan of all respect for food. You don't mock what you've got, let alone what another might.

He follows her glance up, to the afternoon clouds. The air's clear here, and fresh, but even at this height they can't escape the creep of green.

"Two hours too many in this cold." He shakes his head, and after a moment, remembers to offer a smile. "Who are you waiting for?"

There's warmth enough indoors, and richer fare than this. To shirk it, well. She must want something of the people within. Whether he might do anything about it, Alan is't yet sure.

[sulena]

"It hasn't been so bad. The fortress walls keep the cold mountain winds away which was perhaps the hardest part of the journey."

It was already cold enough up here in the Frostbacks but the wind chill could cut through to the bone. At times Saoirse had been unsure if she could keep her passengers warm enough through the long nights as they traveled.

The question earns him a thoughtful hum but she returns his smile with one of her own and glances slightly to the tents from over her shoulder.

"I came to Skyhold with four passengers. They are very, very sick from being forced to mine red lyrium." It is said sadly, her gaze faltering to her food and hands. "I heard that there are Spirit Healers here and I had hoped they might be able to help them mord."

[alankazam]

He slips down to the ground beside her. They mostly keep snow clear of the tents, but the earth never really comes unfrozen here, not until high summer. Despite himself, he shivers at the creep of it through cloth. The North's made him weak.

"There are. Good ones," He doesn't say it gently, not really, but there's an intent to the words that speaks to some attempt at assurance. Alan lifts his hand, wiggles the fingers stiffly through their bindings. "And they know that sickness."

As well as anyone might, at least. His tongue trips with questions: Where'd you come from, how'd you find them, was it templars again — the red ones? Do you think if they combined, they'd be purple? But some part of him doesn't think this isn't the time.

"Can I?"

May I, is what he really means, but Alan gestures again. This time, to her own hands. The air's thin here, the skin'll be slower to mend of its own. Especially if she's had contact with so many ill from that.

[sulena]

"I have faith in them. I know that they will do the very best they can for them."

Saoirse is not so naive to believe that they will all be utterly healed and freed of their infections. She knows that some of them might not even make it through this period but she knows with all of her heart that they will do their very best. Her eyes linger on the polished stone as rays of light catch its surface before tucking it safely away in her cloak.

His question earns him a small look, not a bad one, simple curiosity until he gestures and it clicks. She has not thought much on the bruises and cuts as she withheld her simple healing magic to help those under her protection. Smiling, she nods and offers him one of her hands quietly.

[alankazam]

Simple magic is all he has on offer. The smile slips aside, momentarily replaced by focus.

It's a slow process, unpracticed, but steadily he coaxes warmth into the joints, smoothing and spreading out to clear the broken vessels. Creation magic is a funny thing: Delicate work by unsubtle methods — shove some energy into it and hope for the best. But the bruises fade, skin fresh. Like it was never there at all.

But that's not the way things really go, is it?

"It's a pretty necklace," He says, because he's noticed you're supposed to talk during these things, only he's remembered that a touch too late. Alan pats her hand once before releasing them to lean back and regard her. "Does it go with the song?"

Chantric, both of them.

[sulena]

Simple magic is more than enough in her eyes as when it comes to Creation magic, she has always lacked any real talent for the school beyond the smallest and simplest of spells.

To have warmth return to her joints and her discolored skin to lose its dark hue as vessels heal and blood returns where it is meant to be. To feeling of magic helps to chase away some of the chill in the air and ease the tension that has settled so deeply into her shoulders.

For a moment, she is quiet until she realizes that he has asked a question and nods eagerly. "Mm, that's right. I got it as a gift when I was small and has become something of a source of strength for me."

[inagutterson]

A general rule of thumb is that Yngvi only appears around the healing tents if he thinks he can pester someone, poke about in a tent, or if he's chasing nugs. Today he's out for a rummage since even he knows it's bad form to be stealing from the healers but in his heart he's too inquisitive not to be in places he shouldn't be, having a good nosy through sacks and chests and under what passes for a bed in these things. Mostly everything just makes his nose itch, confirming his initial suspicion that most healing is throwing halla piss at people and charging for the privilege.

The nug approaches first because the nugs are used to getting free run of the place since he unleashed them months ago, something of an infestation really but you can't just lock nugs up when they're wild animals that need their space, and then out Yngvi blunders, realising that there's someone there. It stops short of her, sniffing quietly to see if she's friend or foe as it waits to be collected by this completely legitimate owner right here.

"Tent inspection," he announces, perhaps to no one, maybe she doesn't care, maybe she does. "Routine but random tent inspection. And there's my assistant, slacking on the job again. You're on notice Truffles."

[sulena]

Needless to say the appearance of the nug is something of a surprise. Saoirse blinks once and then twice before smiling, wiggling her fingers in greeting to the small creature. She also, needless to say, does not expect Yngvi to come blundering out and blinks curiously before smiling lightly. Perhaps verging on laughter, maybe but she is very much smiling.

"Oh? An inspection. Well, I will be sure not to bother you or Truffles in your work then." She says, wiggling her fingers at the nug once again.

[inagutterson]

Alas, she has no food in those wiggling fingers so all a nug can do is flop over. Maybe Yngvi should be worried about this sort of behaviour but he knows where he got the nugs from so they've probably picked up bad habits from watching a typical Friday night when folk get paid.

"Inspection covers folk too, I know faces. Or should I say I knew faces. But yours? Can't recall seeing that one around and well, times like these with healing supplies being a hot commodity, you need to know the people loitering. You agree, right?"

[sulena]

Although there is no food is wiggling fingers, there are belly rubs and Saoirse is happy to offer them. There might even be some bread and cheese in Truffles' future at this rate. The elf, meanwhile, raises a brow to Yngvi with a sudden grin.

"I could not agree more," she says with a laugh. "Saoirse Ceallach, a new arrival as of this morning. I have four in my company that were in desperate need of healers and I heard many good things of the ones here."

[inagutterson]

"Is that a Starkhaven name?" It could be Dalish. No Vallaslin on her face but there are plenty of surface dwarves who still insist on going by good old Orzammar sounding names. Even he didn't get to escape that but there's something in him that's sure he can maybe relax.

There's a sad lack of Marchers. Dog lords, Orlesians with one or two worth the time of day. Tales of a 'Vint. Grey folk with too great an allocation of leg. One Nevarran what he knows of.

"A lot of halla piss about here since no one sees the need of a proper dwarven alchemist but y'know, dwarves are funny, we all look the same to everyone. I get mistaken for six or seven. You a mercenary then? What's the company?" He maybe sounds hopeful because he is starved of news from folks like him, warming up more than he does. Let him down gently. Or not he can take it.

[sulena]

"The very best of Starkhaven names," she says with a grin.

But she would readily agree on the sad lack of Marchers present within these fortress walls and she has only just arrived. There was certainly a sad lack of proper Marcher food too. What she had seen seemed far too bland (Ferelden, no doubt) and far too ridiculous (likely Oresian) to consider for long before she ended up here with hard bread and cheese.

"I am not a mercenary myself, no. I've worked with my far share of companies between the Marcher cities though. They have been my biggest aid in relocation efforts." Saoirse says, humming in thought. "I'm most familiar with the Stonearrows in Markham and the Forges in Ansburg. There's also a company I worked with recently out of Wycome calling themselves the Mummers. Between Kirkwall and Starkhaven, I've lost count on the number I've worked with."

[inagutterson]

"Think you might be the first I've met since I got here, makes a change for me being born and bred Kirkwall." Just slightly tentative since the last Starkhaven person he knew of kind of ended up with a bit of a reputation but hey, you can't judge everyone on the merits of upstart princes now can you?

Food is food though and if you ever had to fight for your supper? You'll eat anything then complain loudly about it later. Yngvi has eaten twigs and pinecones and stewed bones of unknown origin. Still better than the snails he's had to eat at a dinner party.

"How d'you get involved with that without signing on? Coterie'll sometimes cut a few deals here and there but they're strictly Kirkwall and, you'll forgive me for saying it, but you don't have the face for the Carta." He'd remember that, even having left as long ago as he did. Some of the names he might have heard in passing but that's never really been his job to remember stuff like that unless he's been told to do it. Or that's the story he likes to stick with along with a smile. "I've been with the Boneflayers since about the time the Qunari landed in Kirkwall when we all made the collective decision to start the nomadic lifestyle when he set everything on fire that one time. Got to see more of Thedas than just the Free Marches. And less of that stupid tourney for tits."