[open] pick a star on the dark horizon

[eolasemah]

WHO: Sina, you, and A Lot Of Dalish
rWHAT: things are looking grim. some visitors arrive in Kirkwall.
WHEN: throughout Firstfall
WHERE: the infirmary, Hightown
NOTES: This is Sina's last log before she goes, and the last chance for your character to interact with her, with the exception of backdated inbox threads (if you want one). use it well and try not to cry in public

I. Infirmary

Sina's fever broke, and briefly it seemed that she might rally again, like she did earlier this year. Instead she's still exhausted, her breathing short and raspy, punctuated by coughing that grows more violent by the day.
There are flecks of blood on the cloth she holds to her mouth, and each time she barely registers the sight before dropping back onto her pillow, struggling to breathe. Her gentle hazel eyes have a glassy quality to them, and appear subtly backlit by an unnatural vibrant green.

Her days of weepy introspection are behind her. All Sina wants now is relief, her scourged lungs and aching chest consuming her waking days. It's better for everyone when she's unconscious, which, thanks to herbal painkillers, has been increasingly the case.

II. Hightown, midway through Firstfall

Heralded by the quiet patter of thirty-something pairs of bare feet approaching on stone, Clan Dahlasanor arrives from east of the city and is admitted only because the guards on duty are too surprised to stop them. They are joined by some members from Ashara as well, and all are walking silently with weapons sheathed and tied, arms at their sides and gazes forward.
It's a highly alarming procession despite the clan's apparent disinterest in conflict, and it appears they have been cautioned to the effect of not making eye contact with any of the resident shem'len regardless of their intentions.
A small crowd of townspeople have begun to trail after them by the time they've reached the site of the former Chantry, now a forest, led by an impish young blonde woman who alone seems comfortable traversing the streets of Kirkwall.

Finally casting her eyes about, Keeper Thalia, a small and solemn dark-haired woman in her thirties, speaks.
"Siuona and Nahariel of Clan Dahlasanor, and Sorrelean and Beleth of Clan Ashara." It's an uneasy request, as she's clearly out of her element. "Are they here?" She may as well be speaking Qunlat, for how the crowd looks at her.

[anyone can answer, though hopefully Sorrel will arrive soon!]

Comments

I (Open to Nahariel and Araceli?)

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin is there, of course. She comes as often as she can, in between work shifts. Anything that isn't work or Araceli gets pushed to the wayside for now, as she wants to be there for both Sina and Nahariel. So she'll help ready medicines for when Sina's awake, hold her hand when she's not, and try to hold herself together even though that vibrant green in Sina's eyes breaks her heart more and more every time she sees it.

Whenever Sina's awake, she'll try to smile for her friend and is as busy as she needs to be in order to provide her with some relief. When she isn't, though, the weight of it all comes crashing down and she can't hide those tears. This is too similar to what happened with Asher, in many ways, and it's torture to see it happen again.

zzz

[nadasharillen]

This time, Nahariel is dozing against a stump that looks like it was in a patch of sunlight an hour ago, one hand relaxed and curling around one or two of Sina's fingers. The other has the same hold on a carving knife, and a half-formed bird covered in small curls of wood rests in her lap next to it.

It appears she fell asleep mid-stroke.

[gatheringstorm]

Her gaze strays to that knife and, worried for what could happen if Nari startles herself awake, Korrin gets to her feet. She'll retrieve that knife as gently and quietly as possible, placing it within sight. Nari isn't allowed to accidentally hurt herself or ruin her bird, of course. Only then will she sit back down and place a gentle hand on Sina's forehead, checking to see how warm or cool she is now.

[foxsays]

If one of them should have the time to go as often as she should, it should be Korrin. Maybe it's unfair of Araceli who doesn't know death quite so well but Korrin-- Korrin does, Korrin's better at this where Araceli feels as if her courtesies, her attempts to reach out are all just that.

Attempts that go nowhere, meaningless, hollow.

There's always work to do but her mind circles back to her friend in the end, arriving with basket borrowed from somewhere in the crook of her elbow, Lux stalking along at her heels. Anyone passing by can smell what's in it: fresh bread and carefully packed soup for the most, steaming and fragrant, perhaps that's why she took so long to come down here. Even if Sina can't manage it, there's Korrin and Nari who both still need to eat.

"I didn't know when anyone last ate," she says because why would she say hello, how are you, it doesn't matter here when so much of her wants to bolt.

I (Open to Nahariel)

[circleprodigy]

Inessa doesn't know Sina well, but when she's not mobbed by friends, the slight elf Warden and her large mabari will be a regular presence. She doesn't expect her healing magic to provide much relief, not now, but it will be cast anyway during particularly bad moments. Given permission, she'll do her best to provide thorough notes on Sina's progressing condition. They won't be able to save her, but it's Inessa's hope that one day, all the pieces of the puzzle will fall into place and they'll be able to save other shardbearers.

Garahel will usually curl up by the bed, napping, though whenever Sina awakens while he's present, the mabari will gently nuzzle her and lick her hand. Sina doesn't feel warm enough to him after the fever breaks, so he'll try to be a nice canine heater for her.

[nadasharillen]

Catching a glimpse of Inessa through the trees always makes Nari smile with relief in anticipation of the greater comfort her healing magics can bring to Sina, whose face sometimes begins to twist in pain even while sleeping.

And of course Gaharel always brings smiles, no matter how weary or small they might be.

Nahariel raises a hand in greeting. "I'm glad to see you. She had a particularly bad coughing fit a bit ago--although she shortly went back to sleep." The evidence is in Nari's hands; water splashing up the brown elf's arms as she scrubs the slightly larger spatters off a handkerchief.

[circleprodigy]

Inessa smiles, though it soon fades upon hearing such news. She sighs and looks over the increasingly frail elf, brow furrowed. The blue light of her healing magic settles over Sina again, though she knows it won't do more than keep Sina comfortable for a little while. "Anders has recommended herbs which might aid her in breathing easier, I assume? If you need more, I can retrieve them."

Garahel leans against Nahariel affectionately, tail wagging. He's been such a good, quiet boy, not bothering Sina unless she's awake.

[nadasharillen]

Nari shakes one hand dry and reaches down to scratch Garahel absently, privately amazed that the dirty dog that had torn through the Kestrel's house the first time they'd met was so sedate around Sina. Of course, animals usually were. And Mabari were more than smart enough to realize what was going on.

She looks over at their stock of herbs and poultices and finds it well stocked; people who loved Sina but couldn't do anything more tangible than fret kept the small box heaped with remedies... although most brought little comfort save to the minds of those that brought them. Nari didn't know about that specific mixture though.

"That I don't know--would you mind checking for me? I use them enough, but I still don't know Elfroot from Embrium once it's been dried and ground," she admits wryly.

I - the caregiver superthread

[nadasharillen]

When the sun rises, Nari is there. Likewise when the sun is high, in the hazy twilight of the forest, and when the dark sky through cutouts in the canopy is speckled with stars. Rare though it may be for Sina to open her eyes, it is rarer still for her clansister to be out of sightlines. Sometimes the First will open her eyes to carving, sometimes to a rambling low wordless humming; sometimes it's the middle of a story, sometimes she's poring over the plans she's drafted for Andraste's small clearing. After a couple of days sometimes she's sleeping the light sleep of a scout, but always, always, she is there with her crooked smile--her calloused hands.

I. (Open to others, because she is sneaking in.)

[sunshinethroughgrey]

Bethany creeps in, through the infirmary, trying to keep as quiet as possible as so not to disturb anyone sleeping. She comes to Sina's bedside, brown eyes filled with sadness and quiet grief, before she goes into her satchel. A warm knitted blanket, with a tree embroidered across it, is laid lightly over her, and Bethany gently puts an apple down next to Sina's bedside.

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin's backpack and staff indicate that Bethany's visiting presence isn't the only one. After taking a break to stretch her legs a bit, Korrin reenters and smiles sadly at Bethany's attempts at comfort. She settles back at the other side of the bed, pitching her voice low.

"That looks wonderful, Bethany. I'm sure it'll keep her warm."

[sunshinethroughgrey]

Bethany started a little, but her smile softened as she recognized the pack's owner returning. Her look to Sina's bed is sad, and continues to be pensive as she goes to face Korrin again.

"I hope it gives her some peace - and perhaps a little more strength to fight this."

[gatheringstorm]

"She's beyond fighting, at this point. Now, it's all about how peacefully she can go." Korrin sighs, shoulders sagging. She had known it would come to this for a long time, and to finally see the end of that road is heartbreaking as much as it is a relief, in a way. Sina won't be suffering much longer, but it hurts to see another friend fade away in such a manner.

1. If you can catch him ... Open

[gottakeeponejumpahead]

A shadowy figure creeps through the infirmary tents, and into Sina's. No, it is not Death, just a young elven man dropping off a few bags of sugared nuts, and gently, oh so gently, rough charcoal drawings done by the alienage children of the trees and grass from Sina's grove.

He also puts down one branch of the vhendal, by her bedside, giving her a quiet smile before he goes to sneak out again.

II.

[writteninblood]

And indeed Sorrel has arrived, soon enough. Where else would he be? What else can he do? There's nothing else but this, and the death-watch. There are many hands volunteering for that duty, at least. He is unmoored.

"I'm here, Keeper," He calls, one hand raised in greeting as he edges past the reluctantly-parting crowd. Don't they have anything better to do than to gawk at grieving people? "I--"

For a moment, when he sees Keeper Thalia, Sorrel stands like a child, small and helpless. He opens his mouth, to apologize for all that's coming, for not being strong enough to save her, for coming too late. He thinks better of it in a dozen ways, tries to think of an appropriate greeting, or a warning, and... gives up.

"Andaran atish’an," Sorrel falls back on formalities, safe harbor of the lost, "This way. Nahariel is with her."

He turns to lead them towards the ever-looming Gallows, and something about him must project his impatience with the crowd, because though clogged by the curious, the gap opens up again in a hurry.

[eolasemah]

Visibly relieved to see one of their own, the notoriously serious Thalia smiles a little and steps toward Sorrel. "Ma serannas," she sighs, "we are fortunate Nymii knows the city." This is spoken in a low voice, as though any information at all picked up by the crowd could be used against them.

As they approach the imposing Gallows, some hands automatically move to weapons, even if they don't brandish them yet. This is a place of legendary horror, with some of the worst humanity has to offer. They all know not to attack, but they won't be caught unprepared. The crowd continues to drift after them, rustling with curiosity and concern, picking up more gawkers as they progress.

[writteninblood]

"Peace, Lethallen," Sorrel murmurs as they begin to truly cross from Kirkwall proper into the skirt of the Gallows' influence. The courtyard, ringed as it is with walls and gates, is no place of comfort, but what keeps danger in will also keep it out, "The Gallows is the Inquisition's place, now. There's less danger here than anywhere in Kirkwall."

Not no danger, of course, there will always be an element of unpredictability for a Dalish face among strangers. Sorrel himself still keeps a wary eye on those following-- the day he loses the natural anxiety of a human presence will be the day Sorrel truly does lose his way. But less. The real danger will come in the days to follow, when the Dalish here are no longer a surprise, when the shine has come off the novelty and the greedy and cruel among them have had time to grow bold.

"This w--" Sorrel pauses, just long enough to pass a hand over his eyes as they come to the entrance hall, the wide hall, and his line of sight briefly glances off the enshrined 'art' still affixed there. Samoel fucking Gareth and his Orlesian bronze ass, what a greeting, "...this way. Up."

Dear Creators, can nothing go well?

[eolasemah]

"The Gallows," repeats Isen with a cheeky, uncertain smirk, knitting his freckled brow at Sorrel, "well now I feel welcome." A woman beside him mirrors the expression sadly, and upon further inspection, there's a whole cluster of them with the same burnt-red hair and green eyes. The Halaani, Nari's family, all of whom Sorrel likely met at the bonding, if he remembers anyone in the blur of faces and excitement.

Thalia balks when they reach the doorway, and the others follow her gaze around the large frame, the walls, the tiled floors within. Apart from Nymii, not a one of them has ever set foot inside an actual building before. Or even seen inside. They might as well be walking into a parallel universe.
"Why in here?" Thalia asks, glancing imploringly to Sorrel. "Is it safe?"

I

[laurenande]

It was night, long enough past the fall of dusk that there was little risk in traveling as she was wont. She had inquired about a number of old names but this was the first she moved to meet...and just in time, it seemed. Galadriel moved into the quiet Infirmary hall and her eyes locked on the small and diminished form of Siuona on her bed. She had been a fragile, mortal thing when they had first met and now...now she neared her end.

Galadriel crossed the room and took a seat beside the sleeping elf. Though she still wore her cloak, she pushed back the hood and the gentle, starry light that she exuded cast the room in soft, silvery shades. The Elessar glittered on her breast but, even with it, she doubted there was anything to be done for Sina.

"Ah, my friend, how late I am," she says softly and reaches a hand out to brush along Sina's face. The Elessar has some power, despite her own weakness, and the pain that wracks her, the state of her lungs, can be muted for a time. At the very least, she can sleep easier before her passing.

[eolasemah]

The light touch awakens Sina, and she heaves in a breath as her eyes flutter open, the green tinge behind them all the more prominent in the darkness. Though no sound escapes her, her lips form the name Asha'dhea, recognition of who it is sitting over her. She smiles, faintly but warmly. She's missed her.

[laurenande]

The smile that spreads over Galadriel's face is a soft and fond one, her hand remains against the side of Sina's head and she leans forward, her golden hair spilling over her shoulders and onto the bed.

"Síuona," Galadriel greets softly and captures a fine wisp of the girls' hair to stroke idly between her fingers. "Did I ever tell you of the Elvenhome, the far green country across the sea?"

[eolasemah]

Breaths coming shallow but quiet, Sina's smile weakly grows, and she shakes her head. Across the sea; perhaps this means that uncrossable sea in her Fade dreams. She's still at the edge of sleep, and finds that to make sense.

sometime after Fern's dinner w/ Araceli & Korrin;

[wheretheferngrows]

Fern has spent a great deal of her time sitting quietly by Sina's bedside during the daytime hours, but it is a rare thing for her to seek out this sad place at night and find Sina's bed surrounded by mourners. Sharing their grief doesn't feel right, for Fern; she's known Sina only a little while, her grief should be nothing compared to theirs, and yet--

Well. Araceli and Korrin had told her she should. And so, having summoned her flagging courage, here she is.

She quietly pulls a chair right up to the side of Sina's bed and sits there, blinking back tears and a soft sound of pain at the sight of Sina's sickly body beneath the blankets. Oh, this is so hard, so much harder than she'd thought it would be--

"Aneth ara, Sina," she makes herself say softly; she's sure she's pronounced the words badly, but she'd learned them, she'd decided to try. She reaches out to gently rest her hand atop Sina's. "I've... I've come to tell you something. You don't have to say anything back, I know you feel so poorly, I just..." Her words taper off and she swallows hard. "...I needed to say something."

[eolasemah]

Sina's chest continues to rise and fall, but not without the sounds of her laboring lungs, ragged breaths forcing their way out her slightly open mouth, preventing any really deep sleep that isn't drugged.
This is why her eyes flutter open, bloodshot, at the greeting, and they flicker to meet Fern's. She attempts a smile of greeting, but part of her simply despairs at the fact that she's still here, forced to see another crying face of a loved one. Her mouth is too dry to answer, but she gives a faint nod, prompting the younger girl on.

[wheretheferngrows]

Maybe a little of that despair is communicated to Fern in her gaze, because she quickly lifts up her free hand to wipe away the tears from her eyes. She did not come here to cause Sina more pain--quite the opposite, in fact--

She draws in a steadying breath, eyes turned to the ceiling, then lets it out. Then, taking Sina's hand in both of hers, she makes herself say the words she's been turning over in her head for the past week or so.

"...I haven't told anyone here this before, so you'll be the first." She chews her lower lip, then looks into her friend's eyes. "I'm... sort of engaged to be married too, actually. To a boy--Finch--back on a neighbouring farm in Ansburg. He's--nice," she adds, lest Sina suspect she's running away from someone cruel, but the word is also kind of damning all on its own. Who really wants to be described as 'nice' anyway? She smiles a little, but the expression is already fading. "I never felt much for him, though. I'd never felt much for anyone, really, not until--not until I came here, and saw you in the Chantry garden with your basket and..."

Her words seem to fail her for a moment, leaving her helplessly searching for the right thing to say, to give voice to the feeling in her chest. She breathes in shakily and reaches up to rest a hand against Sina's cheek, delicately pushing some fine hair back out of her eyes. "I'm so sorry," she whispers, "I know I shouldn't. I know you've got a bondmate, and I'd never--but I just wanted, needed you to know that I've never felt like this about anyone before. I care for you." (tl;dr these are gay feelings, sina.)