(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

[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."

[alankazam]

Alan nods, a little guiltily pleased with himself despite the situation. He's never managed that particular trick much — perhaps practice is getting him somewhere.

"Does it remember the strength, or do you?"

This is definitely a normal question to ask people.

[sulena]

"A little bit of both, perhaps?"

Because sometimes she can forget when things become overwhelming or when Saoirse feels herself at the end of her rope. Carefully, she brings the stone out and holds it up into the light.

"It's a nice reminder when I feel down."

[alankazam]

"A sun, in grey weather."

He sprawls down to his elbows.

"Or a fire, from the cold."