faderift | [semi-open] so they upped and they walked as far as they could

"Sina?" Korrin's wincing as she strides over, sympathetic to bouts of sea-sickness even as it's never plagued her personally. That it's plaguing one already so frail in body if not spirit is hard to watch but she doesn't shy away from it when Sina's in need.

"Want me to bring you some ginger tea? Maybe that will help steady you." Korrin may not be the genius in the kitchen that Araceli is, but she can manage that much.

Sina's primary response is a low keening that slowly tapers into a groan as she shakes her head. In truth there's a good chance it'll help, but the mere mental image of imbibing anything makes her want to die, and also she feels bad and wants to be a whiny baby for a little bit.
She's sitting curled miserably against the railing, positioned such that she can turn her head and vomit over the side without getting too much on the deck. It's all bile at this point anyway.

Poor Sina. That noise has Korrin's heart aching for her as she drops down beside the small elf, rubbing her back gently. If she could make this journey shorter through sheer will, it would be done. But there are no shortcuts, and not even a nice destination to make up for it at the end. "If you need me to lift you over, just say so. I don't mind, it's nothing I haven't seen before."

The pressure on her back is nice, and Sina takes a deep breath, leaning unconsciously into Korrin's hand. "I hate boooaats," she whines, slumping against her entirely, completely devoid of energy.

Korrin keeps it up, with a surprisingly gentle touch. She can bring on the force when need be, sure, but being larger doesn't mean a qunari is incapable of being anything but rough. "I know, Sina. I'm sorry. If there was a better way to get you there, we'd take it. Just think, though, once we're across, you'll be much closer to your clan. That's a plus, isn't it?"

blugggh. blurrrgh

Sina nods, grateful for the steadiness that Korrin provides. "It'll be so good to see them," she agrees in a thin, sleepy voice, "even if it's to get married."

"See, that's a reason to--wait, what?" Korrin stops and stares, not believing she's heard right. Sina's messing with her, isn't she? Or she's too sick to realize what she's saying.

Oh, hm. She probably shouldn't have said that.
Sina wakes up slightly, but is still too drained to have a good alibi. "...what?" she says instead, going for innocence.

Yeah, Korrin isn't going to let this go. That's not something that just slips out. "You said you were getting married. Is that true, Sina?" And when did this happen? Who is it? So many questions.

But she's so cute! Look at her big eyes! She's sick, cough cough!
For several long seconds, Sina just stares forward, pursing her lips and trying to gather the energy to talk about this. "Yes," she says finally softly.

Sina is, of course, extremely cute and worringly sick, but that hesitation tells Korrin much. She sighs, a little put out in how this is coming out just now, but still more focused on the condition of her friend than anything else. "Congratulations, Sina. You know Araceli and I will be happy to help with whatever you need for that, right? So...who is it? Do we know him?"

Almost as soon as Korrin begins reassuring her, Sina shakes her head. There's a reason it hasn't come up before now.
"Sorrelean, First of Clan Ashara," she sighs, "Beleth's brother. He's... he seems like a good person." She smiles a little, out of the corner of her mouth, but she still feels too sick to react much more than that. "Our clans are joining, and since I'm First of Dahlasanor, it's only sensible that we'd be bonded."
She pauses a moment or two, then gives Korrin a faint squeeze with what energy she can muster. "I didn't mean to keep it from you. It's just... clan business. Not for outsiders."

Sorrelean...she's never met him, though the connection to Beleth has her perking up a little. An arranged marriage, then. It sounds so strange to Korrin, given that such conventions never happen among her own people. There's a moment of irrational hurt that Sina kept this to herself, but she's not about to whine that Dalish traditions didn't include her. This isn't the time to make something about herself. Sighing, she gives Sina a very gentle squeeze.

"Don't worry, I get it...as much as I'm likely to, anyway. I can't keep this from Araceli, though, so don't be surprised if you score something awesome as a wedding gift. That's okay, isn't it?"

"Noo," Sina moans, at least with a bit of a smile, but her protest is mostly in earnest. "Korrin, you mustn't. We're not... like that. We don't do that." Little personal gifts, fine, she's learned to accept them. But wedding gifts, for a clan event? Absolutely not. "It's... seen as quite rude," she adds, hoping it will at least dull the blow of her refusal.

Korrin nods and sighs, a wry smile forming. "I'll do my best to explain that to Araceli, promise. I can't promise I'll be able to talk her out of you suddenly getting more non-wedding gifts, though." She can't not tell Araceli at all, and if Sina suddenly gets more of her favorite seeds or treats, well, that's not wedding-related, is it?

"Thank you," Sina sighs, resigning herself to the stubbornness of her friends for the time being.

Even with her misgivings about Kirkwall given that it's Kirkwall so she can't see the precise sense in it given some of the company the Inquisition happens to keep and all that she's had to learn about it, Araceli's at least looking forward to being close to the water and the docks again. And to being on a ship. Generally flitting around with the sailors because sailors talk so it's good for the Inquisition and for her, she also goes to keep an eye out for Sina.

People who don't enjoy sailing tend to stand out in her mind, the idea of it so bizarre to her that she announces her presence in case a surprise causes a jolt to Sina's stomach.

"My presence does nothing to sweeten the journey?" Araceli teases because where Sina might be miserable, Araceli's glowing from the sea air, windswept and interesting as she leans back against the railings.

Nothing sweetens this journey, unfortunately. Sina has transitioned from a miserable curl to sitting with her legs slung over the side between railing supports, her head lazily resting against one support and her arms limp at her sides, too weak to completely hold herself up but too polite to puke on the deck.
"I'm dying," she says pathetically.

Taking a seat next to Sina, Araceli sets a hand against her back so she can lean her weight on her if she wishes, the other quickly checking to see if she's flushed or chilled. It's not a long enough voyage that they have to worry too much about the supplies unless something truly goes awry but she knows better than most the perils of what might happen out at sea.

"You know that many things are all in the mind. The more you tell yourself a thing, the more you give it power over you." That's just a good life lesson Araceli learned from her mother when she was so small she doesn't remember a time when she didn't know that. But it might not be what Sina wants to hear so she hums thoughtfully, thinking of what they can actually do right now. "Everything around us is moving and on land, everything is still so what you should try to do is to look at the horizon - that remains still so if you keep your gaze on that, it helps to regain your bearings. Especially if the waters grow rough. Have you had anything to eat or drink at all?"

This is all probably true, but this is an occasion on which Sina is more inclined to believe it on account of she can't take in any nourishment without hurling it back out again. She's sickly as it is, and this sure isn't helping, even if it is simply seasickness and not a symptom of her more pressing malady.
She nods weakly and allows her gaze to fix on the horizon, where the light is beginning to dim, the sun setting behind them and the faintest glimmer of stars peering through the darkening blue. "I can't," she murmurs, to Araceli's question, but continue to look outward. She can't tell if it's working yet, but she'll try.

Sighing quietly, Araceli glances about but this is the time the sailors will be changing shifts and thus too busy to run errands for someone who asks or wheedles or makes some sort of promise if they could possibly just help her with this one errand. But Sina needs to eat and drink to replenish what she's already lost to the journey before she suffers more than she has so Araceli will make the attempt to persuade her.

"You have to. You'll make yourself worse if you don't. You'll get dehydrated and when you do go to throw up you'll have nothing left in there, that hurts even more." The knowing comes from the few times Araceli's been so drunk the hangover has left her lying on the floor in a miserable heap but it's the same principle: there comes a point when even if you think you can't do it, you get something in you and keep trying until it stays down. "Ginger settles stomachs? Or is it another thing? There's something everyone says to take that isn't a little brandy."

"Ginger," Sina confirms, her voice a bit raspy from the dryness, "we brought some. But I can't keep it down." She takes a breath that attempts to be deep and sighs against Araceli. "How far is it?" Perhaps with a set timeline, she can be a bit more optimistic.

"Only a couple of days, we have fair winds and tides to slow us, no storms on the horizon." As much as Araceli personally enjoys the thrill of being on a ship at sea in a storm, some of the company aren't going to appreciate it or how keyed up she'd be afterwards.

Still wanting Sina to agree to eat and drink at some point, Araceli tucks her closer and rubs her back. "Sina, you don't need to answer if you don't wish to, you can pretend the wind stole my words away but is it just the sailing upsetting you? Are you worried about Kirkwall? You wouldn't be alone in that, I'm worried about what awaits us there too."

Though she lets her eyes fall closed for a moment as Araceli rubs her back, Sina opens them again to focus once more on the horizon. "I am," she admits, "it seems so... cold, and such terrible things have happened there." She's seen it from a distance many times before, and there are few places less inviting than the City of Chains.
"...I'm... a lot is changing," she admits, and sighs weakly. The shard has been with her for over a year now, and she's grown used to its weight, but even lately it's been a little extra finicky.

"There's a lot of good that can be done in Kirkwall but if we all go into it with the past already weighing us down, we give ourselves twice as much work. The past is a lesson. Mistakes we learn from so we don't repeat them and hurt ourselves and others again." Yet even as she says it, Araceli moves so she can look at her left hand, the green mark still as bright as it was the day the sky spat her out into the snow in Haven.

She made her peace with it under Martel's guidance in the Western Approach, she's made a life for herself once and she can do that again now the Inquisition is asking it of her. Easier for her than others, human and lacking magic.

"It is a big change, a mountain for a city, but we'll all be there. Any time you want, day or night you say the word and I'll be there Sina."

At last, Sina is beginning to relax, Araceli's calming presence lulling her into a state of increased comfort, if not drowsiness. Being sick takes a lot out of someone, and at times all it takes is feeling a little safer.
"I trust you," she says, so quietly it's almost a whisper, "there's so much... that's happened. That needs to be done." She takes another, deeper breath. "We have to do better."

"None of it will be easy. Well, being disliked and mistrusted? That part will be easy enough, I think that will happen as naturally as breathing but overcoming that, rebuilding, having a new foundation? It's a true challenge. I missed that." Maybe it's being at sea that allows her to loosen her tongue even this much because there are so many things she misses that people don't know that she misses because she's never said.

A thief knows a lot of things. The daughter of a pirate captain and a whore knows others. So long training to be a bard and working as one in the field the times she's had the chance, it provides a neat cover for what she already knew. For what she understood.

"There are going to be so many eyes on the Inquisition, I only hope everyone is aware of that. Skyhold carried out rumours but watch how fast lies spread while any semblance of the truth chases after it." She says this even if she's fully aware that some of the truths coming out of Skyhold are damning enough. "We're near the sea for me though, aren't we near...we're nearer greener places for you. No snow. I have had my fill of that for three lifetimes comfortably I think."

[ the wind off the ocean whipped his hair into a salty mess of tangles before he agonizingly combed it out belowdecks and turned it into a tight braid down his neck. he has been thinking of the outsider often now that they're on the ocean, thinking of the room they'll have together once in kirkwall, but the red lyrium and the promise of seeing clan ashara have acted in concert to lure him away from the initial settling of kirkwall.

he is curious about the ship, can't resist the sound of the gulls, the smell of the sea-- it is no wonder that he runs into sina, sees her curled in on herself and drops fluidly to his knees beside her, minding the crew, his hand resting on her shoulder.

(that could be him, he supposes, if he were a more unlucky elf.) ]

[Sina is many things, but lucky is not among them, at least not in this case. She leans easily into Thranduil's embrace, limp and childlike in her misery. That's what a hahren is for, after all.]

[ he moves his hand to the small of her neck, and braces the back of her head at the curve of his arm. the other hand slips under her knees, and it is an easy thing to stand, to hug her body to his chest, her cheek presses against his tunic. he has to shift her weight briefly to be sure he's holding her in a way that ought to be comfortable for her to, but otherwise he's rock-steady.

she's so light, and limp. it's not right.

he doesn't bother going too far, just a few meters to find a crate to sit on, tug his cloak about them both. tauriel was far too old for this sort of behavior from him, to need or want it, and she was the closest thing he had to a daughter before sina or beleth.

he is, for once, making it up as he goes along. ]

I had never seen the sea before Thedas, [ he admits, and then, very gently, brushes her hair away from her face. the smell of acid lingers on her breath. ]

[Before recently, she hadn't been carried like this in quite a long time. Now, it seems to happen increasingly, but Sina is so relieved that she can't find it in herself to feel undignified. Thranduil is warm and strong and safe, all qualities that are incredibly welcome at the moment.]

Really? [she rasps, with a weak smile.] You can see it from the forest, sometimes. When we see my clan I'll show you. [Her eyes fall closed, exhausted, though she's still awake.]

More Dalish? [ he says, delighted, a murmur of pleasure in his tone. ] Truly. It-- draws us, with the promise of what lays beyond.

[ that the sea-longing hasn't taken hold of him can be easily explained by how there is no valinor on the other side of this ocean; no promised land to be called to. that does not mean he does not wonder at the shape of this world. perhaps someday, he will see it.

for now, though, he has sina. he speaks, and does not expect a response, only giving her a low murmur of noise to sleep to. ] We had rivers, when I was young, deep enough to swim in, springs and pools for little elflings to splash about in. They cannot compare, though, not to this.

[If only there were a promised land for elves in this world, a place where one could go and be free from pain. Instead, they wither just like anyone else, the elvhen irrevocably quickened by the arrival of humans. Or at least that's how the stories go.]

Dahlasanor, [she rasps,] Nari and I... [Drawing in a deep breath, she sighs it out with at least a slight increase in comfort. Thranduil's presence is calming.] Our family.

When they'd first made the journey from the forest to Skyhold, stuffed in the hold of the only merchant ship that would take what the Dalish had to trade, the two clansisters had taken to their first experience on water in polar opposition. Nahariel with delight and a spring in her step, eyes shimmering like emeralds in their naked glee, and Sina...

Well.

Nari had repeatedly promised they wouldn't have to do it again, but orders were orders, and back to the water they'd gone. Above decks this time, but the sea air did nothing to assuage Sina's nausea. If anything, it was worse. And so every so often Nari is there, so constant that it would be possible to tell the time by her comings and goings, always with a damp cloth to wipe Sina's brow and lips, a cup of water to wash the taste from her mouth, and broth and elfroot tea from the galley to keep up fluids and calm her stomach--special treatment to be sure, but no-one was immune to the piteousness of a disconsolate Sina, not even the fairly gruff cook.

This time it's water and cloth, the older elf kneeling to push a few strands of sweaty hair out of her clansister's face with a sympathetic wince before offering the cup. The wince quirks into a smile when Sina looks up.

"If you keep going like this, maybe eventually you'll throw up that shard, and then," Nari leans in conspiratorially, voice teasing, "we can finally abandon all of these terrible brutish shem'len whose company we're pretending to enjoy and run away back to the forest as soon as we touch land."

Edited 2017-04-12 16:53 (UTC)

"Oh... I'd give anything," Sina says weakly, with what barely passes for a laugh. It sounds painful, to throw up the shard, but she's been doing plenty of that anyway and then it would be gone.
"We can... let's bring a few of them, though. Just to visit." Her voice is thin and she clearly has almost no energy left, but still she tries to keep a bit of a smile, just for Nari.

"Just to visit," Nari echoed. She smoothed the blanket over Sina's shoulders, continuing to hold out the cup of water. She wasn't going away until some fluids went back into her poor da'halla. She continued to talk, hoping to take the younger elf's mind off of the churning in her belly.

"Who should we bring?"

If Sina had more of her wits about her she might not be so quick to suggest bringing visitors to their clan, but right now they're talking fantasy just to get her through the day and so that's what's going to happen.
"Araceli, Korrin. Sam?" She enumerates them on her fingers, and even gives a sleepy smile. "...but we... have to keep Sedi away."

That brought a chuckle. "A given. We'll have to wait until she and Nymii disappear for half a moon on a long hunt. Hurry them in, hurry them out, and hope she can't smell shem'len when she comes back."

Idle fantasy, perhaps, but the three Sina had mentioned had been nothing but welcoming and kind to the point of fantasy themselves. Nari threads her legs through the railing to the knees so she can swing her feet, grinning every time the sea spray tickles their bare soles. There's more than enough room left to be a pillow, should that be desired.

Sina takes the invitation and leans on her, still smiling faintly. "I accidentally told Korrin about the bonding," she confesses, "I think she and Araceli will want to come. I'm not sure how to tell them they can't." You'll be shot through the eye before you even see an elf? Or is Korrin in the same category as the other shem? She doesn't want to take the risk.

Sina's customary ponytail has come apart a bit in the sea wind, aided by its owner's complete absorbance in her misery. Sina's lean brings it in range of Nari's hands, which carefully let it loose, thin strong fingers combing deftly through the tangles as she replies.

"Mm. Maybe offer them something else as compromise. Ask to hold a small gathering nearer the edge of the forest sometime afterwards for close shem'len friends?" She left it unsaid, but it would allow for those friends who no longer felt comfortable with their erstwhile clan to come and celebrate as well.

"That might make sense," Sina concedes with a small, achey nod. "Or just... I don't know. Something back at the base." She bites her lower lip. "Or nothing. I don't know." An uncertain smile. "It truly isn't a big deal."

"Maybe not to you," conceded Nari, continuing to gently put to order what had been pulled asunder by wind and lack of care, "but those who love you will always jump at the chance to show it. It's rare enough to find something to celebrate these days."

She tied the tail back in place, grinning as a few strands are immediately tugged loose.

"Sometimes accepting gifts is a gift to the giver."

"That's true." A small smile twitches onto the corner of her mouth, and Sina sighs. Though it's been difficult, Nari is always such a reassuring presence. "...I'm nervous," she confesses, after a short pause.

Nahariel tilted her head to the side, gaze focusing in attentively ...even though it was on the back of Sina's head. The First couldn't see it this time, but she'd seen that same tilt, focus, and heard the following expectant quiet so often in the past she might as well be able to.

Go on, it said, I'm listening.

"It's just... a big change, that's all," Sina continues quietly, looking at her hands, "I almost wish I didn't know what the shem'len do and how their bondings work. It makes this seem so empty." She shakes her head quickly. "...not that Sorrel isn't nice. I like him."

She'd seen some dalliances, and one servant's marriage at Skyhold. They'd seemed joyful. For love. She'd also heard Orlesian nobles airily trading their children like stock for power. Alliances.

But it didn't matter what she thought of shem'len bondings.

"What do the shem'len do?" Nari asked carefully, tucking the blanket a little more snugly around Sina's thin shoulders.

Edited 2017-05-06 22:01 (UTC)

"They do it for love," Sina replies, "at least, some of the time. Ordinary people do. I think the richer they get, the more complicated it is." She snorts lightly. "But we aren't rich. It's nothing like that. ...I don't understand most of their customs, to be honest."

"We're not rich," Nari agreed, "but we still have different status, eh? Do you think it would matter more--for an alliance among clans--to have two hunters marry, or two Firsts?"

The nut-brown hunter smiled slightly, leaning back to brace her hands on the deck, tilting her face towards the bright blue sky. "Nobody really minds about Sedi and Nymii because..." She snorted. "Well, because if they did, the two of them would probably leave. With the detractor's belongings. They're a clan to themselves, nearly. But moreover, they're just two of the six of us. You're our only First." And we don't have any other mages. "Trusting you to a bond is a more important matter, and it creates a closer relationship between us and the Ashara. The difference between a gift of some elfroot, and a gift of a halla," she said, reaching one slender finger to tap the center of Sina's forehead where she knew the vallaslin curved.

Two Firsts is the obvious answer, and Sina knows it. She rests her head on Nari's shoulder with a sigh, at least starting to feel better now that she's being distracted from the boat's rocking. "You're right," she concedes, after a moment, unable to resist a faint giggle when Nari pokes her forehead. "...as usual."

[semi-open] so they upped and they walked as far as they could

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