[open] you'll come back when it's over

[eolasemah]

WHO friends and family of Sina Dahlasanor
WHAT: post-mortem interactions
WHEN: the evening of 7 Haring and onward
WHERE: the infirmary and elsewhere
NOTES: CW for death and illness. Apart from the main post I will not be tagging in. This thread is for wake/funeral/burial arrangements and anything else you guys want to play out pertaining to Sina's death, so feel free to make top levels or do whatever else!

It was the evening of the sixth when Galadriel paid her visit to Sina, after which the girl became mostly unresponsive. Still breathing, she slept through the night and day, waking up in the late afternoon just long enough to reach for Nari's hand and whisper something to her before falling away again. The candles grew dim and the shadows long before she stirred again, pulling in a last rasping breath, her lips moving soundlessly to form two unknown words as she exhaled and fell still.

It was hardly ten minutes later when, witnessed by friends and clan, the glowing green patch of magic that had plagued them all for the last couple years simply... vanished from the elf's sternum, as though it had never been there. Lying small and wasted away, destroyed from the inside out, anyone who looked at Sina for the first time would not understand what had killed her.

The room was then vacated by all but Keeper Thalia and Sina's parents, a balding large-eyed man with a quivering chin and a plain, sandy-haired woman, neither appearing all that much more vital than their late daughter. It was they who prepared the body for the resulting rites, silent and weary, their miracle baby laid to an untimely rest.

Out in the hall, Nari found herself surrounded in a collective embrace by a sea of russet-haired Dalish, her family. Even in a time like this, being with their daughter and sister brought comfort, and they hoped she might find some as well.
Sedi and Nymii stood as sentries on either side of the door, permitting only mourners and scowling down otherwise unrelated onlookers.

At last, at long last, it was over.

Comments

ii

[arlathvhen]

She was fine--in a way--up through the funeral and wake. Beleth held on, because she had to, because it was necessary. She bottled everything up and set it aside to deal with at a later point in time. But that point in time came, and Beleth abruptly cut off all contact, turned off her crystal, and stayed in bed.

When Myr knocks, there isn't an answer right away, until he states who it is. Muffled noises follow, and shortly thereafter, the door swings open, Beleth staring haggardly out. Myr gets to miss what a mess she looks like, but there's an undeniable weariness in her voice as she greets him.

"Myr--Hello. I--Sorry." It's embarrassing to be seen--well, you know--like this, especially by him. But not enough for her to do much besides open the door and step out of the way. "Is everything okay?"

[faithlikeaseed]

He's brought food, because: Of course he has. Food is love and always has been since the alienage, when sharing it meant parting with the promise of a full belly in order to spare a friend (a cousin, a brother) from starving. With so many of Sina's friends and family too grief-stricken to keep their lives straight, missed meals were inevitable, and Myr's old instincts said part of caring for them meant keeping them fed.

"As okay as it can be," he replies gently. "And I'm sorry to get you out of bed, but I wanted to make sure you got this." 'This' being a paper-wrapped packet that smells of fresh-baked bread and soft cheese; he holds it out to her as one might to a skittish animal.

"If you're not in the mood to eat it now, I'll understand."

[arlathvhen]

It's incredible, the similarities between the Dalish and their city-born kin. Food is important to both, for it is not always plentiful for either--because of money, or because of the effort of gathering it. That was how a society that cared about each other worked--feeding those who can't feed themselves. Either because of physical issues, or because, in Beleth's case, the idea of walking all the way to the kitchens was simply too daunting.

So it's with appreciation that Beleth takes the packet. She doesn't want food, doesn't want to eat it, but she knows that she has to, anyway. And she knows that Myr is doing it out of kindness, and consideration.

"Thank you, Myr," And her words are tired, but genuine. "I'll have it later, if that's alright." She takes the package over be left on the table, before returning to him. Ordinarily, she might offer to share it with him, have a meal together. But that would involve having to eat right now, and she'd rather not.

And...what now? Her social graces are a mess. She doesn't want to just grab his food and boot him out, but she has no idea what to say. Finally, what comes out is an absentminded ramble, with little thought put behind it. "...It amazes me, sometimes, Myr--I should say, you amaze me. That someone as kind as you can exist in a world that's so unkind."

[faithlikeaseed]

"So long as you do." It's a worn-familiar conversation in many ways, though it had been six years before coming to the Inquisition since he'd had the worst version of it.

This is not the worst. And he trusts Beleth means it when she says she'll get to it later--so he leaves it on the ritual response, the quiet expression of concern. The next step is the request--veiled or otherwise--that she be left alone, and as hard as it always is for him to hear that (isn't there something more I could do, some way I could make this easier?), he's braced to turn and go once she returns to the door.

Except--that's not what she does; prepared as he is for a farewell, Beleth's musing catches Myr by surprise. I've had it easier than most, he does not say, nor: Not for want of the world's trying. Instead: "It's what we're here for, isn't it? To make things easier on each other." He graces the words with a shadow of his usual sunny smile. "The burdens we've all got are lighter for sharing them."

[arlathvhen]

“I don’t feel like I’ve done much for your burdens.” It’s a hallmark of her anxiety over friendships, that she’s aware of and tracks how many times she’s helped her friends, as opposed to them helping her. She doesn’t like the balance to not be in her favor—if she’s not helping them enough, they’ll leave, once she stops being a convenient friend. Once Myr gets tired of her constant helplessness.

“You helped me in the nightmares, too. You were so brave, standing against my clan and my mother,” At least that’s confirmation of who the woman was, “and you didn’t hesitate. I just...cried. It was so stupid, it was such a stupid nightmare.” She frowns, crossing her arms and scowling off to the side. “I don’t think my family is going to try to kill me...” If course, there are various ways that could be interpreted, but. Details.

And she’s making it about herself, again. She turns back to Myr, fidgeting with her sleeve. “What about you? How are you doing?”

[faithlikeaseed]

He's empathy enough he knows how a startled laugh would sound here, and bites it back before it's more than an idea. "You're Scoutmaster," he replies, a little of his gentle bewilderment leaking through in his tone. "And you've taken the lion's share of planning for Sina's funeral--and Maker knows what else you've been doing these past few days. You've burdens enough--and someone you've helped is sure to help me, down the road. It's not all tit-for-tat; it never is, when we're at our best."

Impulsively, he reaches out at the mention of their shared nightmare, a hand outstretched to take one of hers--if she'll accept the gesture. "Nothing stupid about it; it's given to fear demons to know our inmost hearts like that. All the same I'm glad I won't really have to stand them all down for you."

Because he would, of course. And probably get himself feathered for the trouble, since he can only deflect arrows he can see-- But there they were.

The question both is and isn't what he's expecting, and it makes his heart contract in his chest to hear it. "I can't say 'fine,' given the circumstances," given all the circumstances, many of which he couldn't bring himself to talk about even if an enumeration were appropriate, "but I'm holding up."

[arlathvhen]

While she can't deny what Myr's pointed out, she can't help but think--But none of that was helping you. But she understands what he's saying, that it doesn't need to be that she's directly helping him. It's a good thought, and one that makes sense, even if it's hard to fully accept in her heart.

There's no hesitation when he offers his hand, she takes it and gives it a quick squeeze. Despite herself, she lets out a bark of a laugh when he talks about having to take down her clan--it's a half strangled, weak thing, but it's a laugh, and it's the first one she's felt in a while. "I know my family loves me. And I'm sure they'd like you. Most of them do--You kind of met Sorrel. I'm sure he was impressed with you saving me and everything." Maybe not Deheune, but Beleth doubts that Deheune really likes anyone.

She listens to him, sympathetic. It's the same for so many people, right now. "Holding up is sometimes the best we can do," She tells him, then leans forward, and softly bumps her forehead against his, a little show of affection usually reserved for her family and closest friends. But Myr's done more than enough to earn his way t here, by now. "Thank you for helping me, Myr. I'm glad to have you as a friend. And if I can help you, let me know. I know I'm kind of useless right now...but I'll try."

[faithlikeaseed]

There's the laugh Myr had been hoping for; score one for madcap courage. He squeezes her hand with both of his in turn, firm and warm with affection, before letting her go. "I did meet him. Though I'd be glad of another introduction in less dire circumstances." Which, given all that's happened-- Well. Whenever the opportunity arose, he'd take it.

The forehead bump comes as a surprise, but a welcome one; leery as he is about initiating contact with anyone (who knew who might be watching, what conclusion they'd draw from casual touch, in the Circles), he's a glutton for friendly touch and not shy about appreciating it. "That's so," he concedes through a wan smile. "And even the Maker won't ask more from us than our best."

He's no idea if the Creators might be so kind with the Dalish, but he suspects as much from how she's spoken of them. "You're always welcome to whatever I can give, Beleth. And once this is all over--there is something I'd like to ask your help with, though right now the best help you could be to me is to look after yourself."

It's a tall order, he knows from grief; he smiles a little wider to soften what he know might sound an unreasonable order. "That is my dear friend you're taking care of, after all."

[arlathvhen]

"I'll see if I can arrange a proper meeting, then. At some point before he leaves." Her voice drops slightly, posture slacking. "He, um--I asked him to come, for Sina. But, well. He has duties as the First." She looks up, a dry, thin smile on her face. "...I told you that before, didn't I? Maybe one of these days he should actually get to see the lessons I've been taking for him."

And she'll need to warn Sorrel that she might have used him for an excuse to get to know the cute shirtless elf waving a staff around. Whoops.

She straightens a little when he mentions that he has something he wants her help with. She wants to quiz him on it right away, see what he needs, and what she can do--but there's a fatigue she feels at the idea, and she knows that he's got the right of it, wanting to wait. She's certainly not going to be able to give him her best at the moment. And at worst, that fatigue could turn to irrational irritation, if she tries to force it.

She ducks her head when he says that, and there's the muffled noise of her talking while covering her mouth, that she does whenever Myr manages to fluster her. "Alright, alright. You have odd taste in friends, but I suppose I'll do what I can. Though I think right now, what I can do is...nap, maybe. Not very exciting, I'm afraid."

[faithlikeaseed]

"Thank you. I'd appreciate it--but I'd understand if he's to return shortly." The man had lost his wife, after all, on top of whatever other duties he had; Myr can appreciate keenly the need to be back with family, somewhere familiar, after a loss like that. Sina was only (only) his friend and he'd wanted to crawl back home to Hasmal to grieve in a familiar setting--how much more her bondmate. "Though he should have a chance to see that before he goes."

It goes without saying he'd be glad to provide the opportunity.

He cocks his head to one side at the muffled quality of her voice, intuiting the hand and smiling just a little wider for the thought of it. Oh, Beleth. "I beg to differ; I've excellent taste in friends," he retorts, gentle and warm. "And if a nap is what you need, then a nap you shall have, and I'll leave you to it. Unless there's anything else you need from me now."