and all that is left is sin and a gaping hole where the heart should be,

[ipseite]

WHO: Anders + Petrana
WHAT: A conversation.
WHEN: Currentish.
WHERE: The Gallows, Kirkwall.
NOTES: Discussing of abortion, unwanted pregnancy and strongly implied marital discord.

Anders had been kind to her.

Shortly after arriving, her first use of magic in this strange place - and it felt different, she thought, than it had done at home - he had been there, and kind, and patient. He had explained what he could about the situation in which she now found herself; he had given her what he could not have been expecting at the time to be assurances. And he had told her that she was not alone.

As much as she welcomes hearing it, it is hard to feel. The eyes of strangers feel heavy, and her back exposed; she has been lonely for so long it's nothing new, but always before there was at least...

In a month's time, she'll be sure, regardless. But there are healers here with abilities strange to her, and those weeks interminable, and she needs to know sooner than that what options are open to her. Anders was kind. Anders, she thinks, might be kind again -

and discreet.

It is not difficult to find where the healers are.

"Might we speak - privately?"

Comments

[justice_is_blond]

"Of course."

It's a common request of a healer. Health is a personal issue, and some matters even more personal than others. If the Viscount winds up hearing that Anders is back, Anders will expect returning, very personal, visits from him too.

Anders leads the way to a side room he often uses for these things, gesturing at one of the chairs there before he'll close the door behind her.

"I've seen everything, healed nearly everything, so you've no need to worry about me being shocked or surprised." Another common thing, this disclaimer. He'd be a little surprised if she picked something up this quickly, but Oghren's in town and that tends to increase the amount of things going around.

[ipseite]

Petrana is left momentarily without words, Anders netting himself a somewhat shocked look up from where she'd been anxiously fidgeting with her hands - it's safe to say that none of her physicians would have chosen quite that way to try to set her at her ease. But she had said to Thranduil, she has no expectations of this place - can claim no title, can expect no special treatment.

The coarseness of the lower classes is something to which she must accustom herself. This is, obviously, just where she is going to have to start.

"I am...sure," she says, finally, since it seems like she has to respond to that somehow. And then, "Thank you," because some things stay beaten into you, no matter where you go or who you have to become. She's mannerly.

With that lead in, it seems foolish to pussyfoot around the topic. She takes a breath.

"I wish to know how you go about terminating pregnancies. If it can be done here without - injury. Without lasting effect."

[justice_is_blond]

He seems to have shocked her, and for a moment he wonders if the offer has even offended Petrana. That's not something he'd intended to do, but thankfully she does at least thank him. She can't be too bothered if she's saying that.

A moment later, though, it's his turn to be left without words. For just a second, and mostly because Mercy has pulled back from the usual closeness they have in the healing rooms.

When he speaks, his words are a little slow. "We've an herbalist who can do as much, yes. There may be some mages skilled enough to do it as well, I can make inquiries if you need that. I cannot. It's no judgement of you, I want you to know that. But I'm a spirit healer, which means I work with a spirit, Mercy, and if I was to do this, she'd leave me."

[ipseite]

Her heart sinks at his answer, the hot flush of shame rising on the back of her neck and her gaze dropping to her hands, twisting together in her lap. Anders has been kind to her - a mantra repeated all the way here to keep her steps steady - but she doesn't know these others, had struggled with herself to reach out even this much.

It takes her a moment to compose an answer. To think of anything but nodding and fleeing.

"Is there any way," after that long pause, "that you know of, to discern for yourself if a pregnancy exists at all? Before the most obvious ways."

[justice_is_blond]

He can see how difficult the answer is for her, but there's nothing he can offer to help that. Finding a spirit again had been difficult. Finding a third, especially for failing to hold to his agreement, would be borderline impossible.

The question brings relief, shown on his face. Here's something he can do.

"Yes. I could do that right now, even. It's the same magic you saw me use before, probing to determine what state someone's body is in. Shall I?" Hopefully that will help, rather than cause her more stress.

[ipseite]

"Yes," she says, immediately, seizing on it as a possible solution - as a distraction from what feels like the worst sort of mockery. It isn't his fault, and she can't guess at the nature of such spirits, but -

God in heaven, is there no mercy for her.

"Yes," she repeats, quieter, more steadily, flattening her hands. "Thank you." It's a rote repetition, no more sincere than the first, but that lack is nothing personal, only reflective of how difficult the situation.

[justice_is_blond]

He could just hover his hand over her, but she looks shaken. Sounds it, even, with how quickly she answers. So instead he rests his hand on her shoulder as he casts, trying to give emotional support along with the warmth she'll feel pooling in her abdomen.

Within seconds he has the answer, and the relief shows even more on his face.

"You're not pregnant. A little underweight, I'd suggest eating a little more at your meals for the next week and seeing how that goes, but there is no child." And she'll have no need of an herbalist or another mage.

Anders gives her a small smile as he pulls back his hand. He likes when he gets to tell people good news. It doesn't happen quite often enough in his profession.

[ipseite]

If she can't quite summon an answering smile, it isn't because she isn't relieved -

Rather, that it's somewhat overwhelming. How suddenly things shift under her feet, again and again and again and again. Her hands press to where his has only just withdrawn from, exhaling, a purposeful steadying. She will be composed before she leaves this room.

"Thank God," she says, uncharacteristically fervent. "And thank you--"

Ah, that's what she sounds like when she means it.

[justice_is_blond]

God is an interesting title, but now is far from the appropriate time to find out more about her world's religious system. Now is the time to be calm because while it was clear she was stressed before, and it's even more obvious after that.

"You're welcome." He means it in return, though he generally means it when he thanks or welcomes someone. "I've tea warmed up in the other room. Would you like some? I find it helps when things are a little... more stressful than usual." At all times, really, honestly.

[ipseite]

Courtesy is courtesy and sincerity is sincerity and, like marriage and love, the two things may coincide or they may not. It is what it is. Petrana, raised a certain way, will always behave a certain way - she will never be rude when she could be polite.

Which is why even now, she gathers herself, musters that smile with difficulty but determination, and nods. She might prefer to go at once, to close a door and let herself experience this alone, but Anders offers her a hand in friendship and she wants to be someone who knows how to accept that. She wants to be someone who can accept comfort when it's offered to her, even if perhaps she isn't, really, not yet. Instinct tells her to protect herself; that protecting herself means isolation.

Yield, she thinks. A little.

"I would like that," she says, and maybe it means more that she would like saying so to be true, but it is an earnest effort worth making.

[justice_is_blond]

Sometimes he feels a little guilty, befriending the Rifters, like he's taking advantage of them not knowing who he is and what he's done. But he's helped her. He's been himself, hasn't tricked her or something, and he thinks that maybe that makes it all right to feel glad when she wants to take tea with him.

"As would I." Anders leads the way out and starts pouring the tea, tilting his head to indicate the small bowl next to the teapot. "Sugar? I don't have cream at the moment, I've left behind my Skyhold supplier, but it's been fine without."

And hopefully she can still enjoy tea without cream. Most people can, he's fairly certain, but most people he's known haven't exactly always had access to cream. Or sugar. Or sometimes even tea.

[ipseite]

Under the circumstances, that he has sugar at all is a pleasant surprise - nevermind cream. Petrana says, "A little, thank you," those reflexive manners kicking in, stillness settling around her again like a shawl, tidying away the ugly things she did not mean to share. (A shroud; a death mask.)

It's the falsest, easiest way to become steady; to be obliged to, for an audience. Old instincts not soon undone.

"I have heard Skyhold mentioned several times," she says. "It is where the Inquisition seat remains, no?"

[justice_is_blond]

"It is." He adds the sugar and passes over her cup before taking his own and then taking a seat, nodding to the stool near her.

"It's a fortress up in the mountains between two countries, Fereldan and Orlais. It wasn't truly convenient to anything, which is really the point of a fortress. Here we've the harbor as well as land routes, and thankfully no snow. Just a lot of history, and very little of it good."