[open] a little truth arrives in the dying of each day

[eolasemah]

WHO: Sina and you
WHAT: here we go
WHEN: mid-Harvestmere
WHERE: Hightown and then the Gallows
NOTES: All Sina logs from this point onward will involve discussions/dealing with death and illness, so if you're sensitive about those topics I recommend passing these by.

I. Just outside the Forest Garden [single thread please, 1-3 people max]

Sina still looks like Sina, but if Thedas had photographs, and the ability to compare a person's image of two years ago to their image today, only then would it become achingly clear how much mass she's lost. As the weather grows chill, she has to bundle up more and more just to go to work in her gardens, and even then is constantly cold. But she's been all right, all things considered; she's still upright, at least.

Until she isn't. Having felt a little strange since they found the elf children in the warehouse, Sina has chalked it up to the usual business and the gut-wrenching trauma of what they found. Her chest has felt a little heavier, her step a little slower, her hands a little colder, nothing worth calling a healer about until today: she's nearly down the stairs of the former Chantry when she abruptly loses consciousness.

Crumpling like a doll, Sina scrapes her leg on the last few steps and collapses to the ground, basket of herbs on its side, its contents splayed everywhere. She wakes up at once, but with bleary confusion, disoriented and burning with fever.


II. The Infirmary [ota]

Those who spent any significant time with the rescued elven children may also have caught what ails Sina now, but with a body already so ravaged by weakness, fighting it is clearly difficult for her. She's asleep most of the time, coughing when she's awake, and unable to keep food down.
It's not the first time she's been in this position, but it may be the last.

Comments

II

[justice_is_blond]

He's there as soon as she's brought in. Anders has watched her steadily deteriorate and known it was out of his hands to stop it, but that doesn't mean he hasn't tried. It just hasn't changed matters because fighting a losing battle is nothing new.

After tucking her in, Anders hovers. There's work he can do right nearby and she should have company, which she does when she wakes up.

"Hey," Anders says quietly, hoping to help with any confusion about where she is. "Would you like some water with elfroot?"

[eolasemah]

It takes Sina some deliberation after opening her eyes to determine whether or not she wants to exert the energy to consume anything, and though she gives a faint nod, she regrets it immediately. Water sounds nice, drinking it does not. Going back to sleep would be ideal.

[justice_is_blond]

He goes to get the water and returns quickly, trying not to disturb her more than he has to. She needs rest, badly, but she also needs liquids.

"Here." Anders is as gentle as possible as he gets an arm underneath her, supporting her head, while lifting the cup to her lips. "This will help, even if it's difficult to swallow." She's so light and thin. While he's seen her in states before, this episode has him pretty worried.

I

[wheretheferngrows]

When Sina regains consciousness, there's a familiar, white-faced elven girl crouching next to her. "--oh Andraste--Sina?" she blurts out, hasty and anxious, rather sounding like she's been saying a few other words as well.

Fern reaches out a hand to rest on her shoulder, eyes wide with fright; even through the fabric of whatever it is she wears, she's hot to the touch. "Oh, you're burning up..!"

[gatheringstorm]

Planning to make good on her promise to Nahariel, Korrin heads over to the forest garden where she knows Sina is likely to be at this time of day. Spotting her friend, she barely gets a chance to raise a hand in greeting before seeing her crumple to the ground.

"Sina!" Korrin's eyes widen in horror and she covers the distance with a few quick strides, crouching down by the fallen elf. The other elven woman isn't known to her, but she frowns in alarm at the news, and moreso upon seeing it for herself. "Fucking hell...Sina, hold on. I'm going to pick you up and we'll take you to the infirmary, alright?"

[writteninblood]

It's the shouting that draws his attention. Kirkwall was loud, but the forest garden was anything but. People didn't typically stand on the steps and shout, and they certainly didn't shout for--

Sina!

It's like electric; a moment of noncomprehension and then his body is pulled into motions without pausing to wait for intention or thought. He sees Korrin's horns bending over a slight, crumpled form, recognizes the color of Sina's shawl and all at once realizes.

"Sina!" He half-jumps down the stair, clumsy in his haste, to stand at Korrin's elbow, hovering, useless, "What happened? Did you see it?"

II

[dashing]

( They are not friends. They are barely even friendly, she's sure, though Herian would have to admit that fell to her own flaws than any of Sina's. It was jarring to remember that the first time they had met had been near the infirmary in Skyhold, save that Sina had been offering aid then, and not in need of it herself.

She had fragility that long while ago. It had been jarring to see how Sina had diminished by the time of Herian's return from the mission, but a matter she had been happier to set aside than address head on. That was remiss.

When Herian arrives, it is with a collection of wildflowers gathered from the forest that had flourished in the ruins of the Chantry, arranged as best she could manage in a rough hewn wooden vessel - not a cup, but not near to being worthy of the title "vase." (It had not been the focus, after all.) What she is carrying is not easily visible, however, when she waits at the entranceway. )

Dahlasanor. I promise the intrusion will not last overlong, but I can return at a later hour, if that would be to your preference.

[eolasemah]

Sina recognizes Herian's voice, and turns her head toward her, blinking sleepily once or twice before giving a shake of her head. "Come in," she rasps, at least figuring the woman isn't going to do anything too stressful.

ii;

[foxsays]

[Adventurous as she may be, Araceli still has places she avoids and places where people are injured or sick have been higher on that list since her own time confined a year ago now. It seems almost cruel that one of that last times she spoke with Sina more than the remarks a person makes in passing was an argument over a garden.

You make a promise to yourself that the work doesn't come home with you. It gets trickier when you haven't entirely decided how you're defining home.

She isn't good with sick people. Doesn't know what she's meant to say or do when she sits, hand hovering as if Sina is a breakable thing (how many of them has she stolen? Hundreds, surely, the most delicate spun glass that shattered if held wrong) all her clever words caught in her throat now. What do you say when someone isn't going to get better? No one's ever told her that, all her training hasn't ever covered this situation and so she sits, swallowing against whatever's trying to bubble up out of her chest, a tight panicky knot that makes her too hot and flushed all over.]

Sina? Sina I'm back from Llomerryn. I...I didn't know, I'm so sorry, I- I didn't…

[eolasemah]

Though she's been asleep, the sound of Araceli's voice rouses Sina, her eyelids fluttering before her glassy gaze focuses on her friend. She smiles, at least as much as she can, with how tired she is.
"Was it a good trip?" she asks in a near-whisper, pleasantly batting aside Araceli's apologies.

[foxsays]

"Some of it. Red lyrium serpents and a kraken that attacked us when we went to rescue the rifters and depart. Qunari on the island, ruins that-- I can't talk about the ruins," the ruins were strange, upsetting, she doesn't know how she felt in the ruins. "Scaled cats, I didn't know they came with scales.

"Llomerryn was better when we stopped for repairs. I think…" She rubs her face, why is she just prattling on with this as if it's any other trip when she's come back with pockets full of trinkets for friends? "I think if I mixed Antiva, Rivain, and Llomerryn up together then that would maybe finally be a bit of home, there were enough pirates, the biggest loudest market I've ever seen. The island had a jungle thicker than your garden, I think, we had such trouble getting through it to go anywhere."

II

[youwonscience]

Cosima isn't here for Sina; while she knows of Sina (and her condition, at least in its very general outlines), they haven't actually had a chance to meet. No, Cosima's here for her own reasons, but that doesn't mean she doesn't notice those around her.

She considers letting it alone; some people wouldn't want a stranger to intrude. On the other hand, she knows intimately how it can be to feel that bad, how a cough like that can wear you out.

"Hey," she says, coming over to Sina's bed, leaving a little space for Sina's comfort more than out of hesitation. "I'm sure they're taking good care, but you need anything not medical? Books, flowers, one of those little cakes from the kitchens?" She's willing to risk rebuff, but if she can help, she'd like to.

[eolasemah]

Sina has been resting with her eyes closed, but they open when Cosima approaches, and she offers a thin smile out of habit. It grows slightly when the offer is made.
"Flowers," she sighs, "that would be nice." All the available ones are, at least in a small way, her children. "...but... potted, please?" She winces, realizing she may be asking much. "Instead of cut."

II.

[writteninblood]

Sorrel had lived through a plague, once. Then, he had been younger then, and relatively new to his power, but the memory of those harrowing weeks would not soon be washed out of memory; he knew what to do.

So he did it, working in a way that would have been called tireless, except that it was anything but-- he tired, daily. But he kept at the work, magic to strengthen Sina's weak and waning reserves, cooled compresses to sooth the fever, warm to battle the chill, tea to mitigate what herbs might manage, and as constant a presence as he can. It won't kill the illness, but it is all he knows to do.

"Aneth ara," he murmurs, when he notices Sina's eyes open in the first violet curls of oncoming twilight, the evening just beginning to blush towards night. He tries a smile, for her, "Any better today?"

One day, he might look back and think of this as trying his best. But today, he only feels faintly inadequate, struggling as if to climb a sliding hill of loose sand.

[eolasemah]

At first, Sina isn't sure who she's looking at; so often it's Nari standing above her, it being someone else this time is throwing her brain for a loop. But once she focuses, once her mind slides back into consciousness, Sina recognizes Sorrel and smiles serenely.
"On dhea," she whispers, "how long have I been asleep?" She's been in and out over the past few days, but only a handful of times has she been fully awake like this.

II

[wheretheferngrows]

It's not fair to say that Fern has kept her distance, exactly, but... that's sort of what the end result has been.

But it's been difficult to find her place in the numerous visitors that Sina has received since her collapse--people from all walks of life, so many different backgrounds, who have known Sina and cared for her for far longer than Fern can possibly claim. Who is she to Sina anyway, but some city elf who sat with her in the Chantry forest from time to time?

This morning, at least, she brings a little bit of the Chantry forest to Sina.

It's quite early when Fern creeps in and takes a seat at Sina's bedside. She places a little potted orchid on her nightstand and spells into existence a little glyph beneath it, just to compensate for the lack of sunlight inside the tent. It emits a faint glow, rather like that from a candle, but it isn't too distracting. That task finished, Fern glances despondently at Sina's sleeping face, then reaches into her satchel to tug out her mending. Best to keep her hands occupied.

[eolasemah]

It's at least an hour before Sina awakens, her sleepy eyes drifting from the middle distance to the glow of the orchid, the corners of her mouth curving slightly upward at the sight. She gazes at it for several long moments, coming into consciousness, before her eyes shift once again, to see Fern.
"Aneth ara," she says in a hoarse whisper, with a touch of amusement, since Fern looks absorbed and she'll likely be surprised.

II

[samahl]

Cyril isn't as close to Sina as he would like, but he's always considered her a good person. He knows there's very little he can do for her now, but he still wants to try to cheer her up in some way.

So flowers. Real flowers die, but he can fold parchment into flowers and color the paper with paint. At least those will keep their shape. When he arrives to the infirmary he's not sure if she's awake or not and he doesn't want to wake her if she sleeps.

[eolasemah]

She's awake, which is a rare occasion, but not impossible. Sina looks alert enough for someone with a fever, glancing toward the door and offering a smile to the entering Cyril, a face she's always glad to see even if she doesn't know it well.

II

[arlathvhen]

She's spent less and less time with Sina recently, though Beleth stays updated on her situation. The guilt wrenches at her, guilt mixed with a quiet dread of what seems to be more and more inevitable looming ever closer. That guilt and dread had gripped her enough to fetch her own twin to Kirkwall for Sina, and enough that when Beleth hears about the fall, she puts aside all of her work and plans to come sit at her side.

Besides Sina's bed, she places an array of flowers from the woman's own hand (blood?) grown forest, hoping that it will provide some cheer to her.

"Aneth ara," Beleth murmurs, fingers pressing into her own lap. "I...um. I heard. About what happened." Of course she heard, Beleth hears everything that happens, now. "Can...I get you anything? Tea? A book?"

[eolasemah]

There have been visitors off and on throughout the day, and Sina wishes she were more alert, less exhausted and able to devote more attention to them. Each break between them is a welcome respite, yet it would be a lie to say she isn't still glad to see someone else.
She smiles at the flowers, then up at Beleth, whispering back a voiceless 'aneth ara' before clearing her throat gently. "I'm all right," she replies, "I'm glad you came." It's lost on her that Beleth is busy, busier than she's ever been before. "...and that you sent for Sorrel."

ii.

[rowancrowned]

[ he does not want her to see his bitterness, his own failure to be what she needs during her last, lingering weeks. he is there when she sleeps, several times, circling her but never there when she wakes.

never there to offer the kindness she deserves.

he gets over himself. or he swallows his own pride. he sits at her besides this time, with his papers, doing work while he waits for a coughing fit to break her slumber, or for a healer to wake her for a brew. the quill scratches over paper-- rather than steal some of the space off her beside table, he's brought a stool, resting his inkwell there. ]

[eolasemah]

A coughing fit it is, though a relatively mild one. Sina lurches into motion with the sound, taking a little longer to actually wake up despite her body's automatic impulses.
It lasts about thirty seconds, then she collapses back to the bed again, her pale face in a grimace of pain. When she opens her watery eyes once more, however, a small smile appears at the sight of Thranduil.

II

[mythalenaste]

The moment Pel hears, she is flying to Sina's side. When she arrives, the girl is asleep. She sits at her bedside, places the baby on her belly on the floor, and takes out her knitting until Sina wakes.

[eolasemah]

It's in the wee hours of the morning that Sina opens her eyes, at a time when both Nari and Sorrel have drifted off and Pel is alone in being conscious. Her white hair is lit like a halo from the moonlight trickling in, and Sina gives a little smile, afraid to say anything lest she prompt a coughing fit.