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WHO: Cyril and OPEN
WHAT: The first time that Cyril has opened his stall for a long time but he seems distracted rather than engaging others the way he usually does.
WHEN: A week or so after Sina's death
WHERE: The Gallows - Specifically Cyril's stall at the Gallows.
NOTES: This might eventually result in some discussions of grief and parental death. Close CR might get him to talk a bit about what happened in Pel's nightmare too so all of those warnings may apply.

It has been nearly a month since Cyril has been at his stall. First business with the Inquisition had pulled him away, then a shortage of supplies, then Sina's death and everything surrounding it. Finally, though, he has some wares out to be bought by any who are interested.

There are some basic traps, spring loaded traps, and then, as always, his puzzle boxes. The different items are organized carefully on the table and displayed for any who happen by. Usually, Cyril would be playing with one of the boxes to show how they work, or engaging with those who paused at the stall.

Now, though, he focuses on a sketch he's working on. When someone comes by he smiles at them, and offers pleasant conversation, but rather than being his usually vibrant self he seems a bit withdrawn. He sits by the stall and works on drawing the shape of a woman's face.

If anyone manages to catch what he's working on, they may notice that she resembles him. Or rather, that he resembles her. He had inherited most of his looks from her after all.

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Cyril doesn't fight Sam as he touches him and moves his face. He looks up at Sam and meets his gaze. He listens to the words that Sam says and finds himself distantly distracted by how comforting it is to have Sam with him, to be able to look at Sam's face and listen to him speak.

After a moment he takes a breath and nods. "Thank you, love," he says softly.

The stern look on his face only breaks briefly at seeing Cyril seeming to actually accept his words and call him 'love'. He doesn't release Cyril's face just yet, though his grip changes so that it is cupping the side of his face, cheek in palm, in a more comforting position.

"Demons will always try to find something, a chink in the armor so to say, to get to you. Anything that will make you doubt. Sometimes promise you things. You cannot let them do that. It's... hard, I know."

Cyril tilts his head into the touch, seeking out the comfort offered there.

"Does that mean that I'm possessed? I mean, if I let it get to me. Could it be tainting my mind?" He realizes just how little he knows of demons. Given how many of the people he loves are mages he should probably learn more.

Cyril certainly knew how to ask the loaded questions.

"No, that doesn't mean you are possessed, love. And you aren't tainted. In this particular case I believe it was only trying to deter you from helping Pel, didn't want you giving her strength to break it's hold. But you fought it off. Having lingering doubts isn't unusual after dealing with a demon though, they do play with the mind. Even if you cannot get rid of the doubt, you should never give into it, that's what they want."

Cyril takes a deep breath then, and forces his body to feel more steady. "'Be strong, don't give in' seems like pretty good advise all around," he comments after a moment.

Sam gives a small hum and smile. "It is, but I'll admit, it's not always easy. But it does help if you have someone to lean on." His smiles a bit more, bowing down some so that their gazes were more even. "I might not always be able to understand, but I'll always listen."

"I will always feel the same for you, Sam," he points out. "I want to be there for you too. We can be there for each other."

"Appreciated. I suppose I don't talk about... 'mage stuff' often with you, which I should try to be better at. But we can cross that when the time comes... At this particular time it's all about you." Loosening his hold just a bit, he lightly rubs the sides of Cyril's cheeks, barely brushing the bottom of his ears. "Feeling any better?"

Cyril hums at the touch to his ears. They were sensitive and that slight brush made his entire body tingle.

"Much," he says gently. "You do that to me."

Sam grins slightly at Cyril's reaction, using what he knew about his ear sensitivity to help calm him some; keeping the contact brief, not pushing it further. Least not at this time.

"Glad to hear. If you're ever feeling like this, you can always come to me."

"I know," Cyril admitted. He took a deep breath. "It's getting easier to come to you because I know that you'll be there for me no matter what."

"Good to hear that it's becoming easier. I'd be worried if it wasn't. In any case, I'm sorry you had to go through something like that. It's never... pleasant."

"I'm sorry you've had to go through something like that too," Cyril responded, frowning a bit. Then, after a moment, "Why are demons even a thing?" He knows it's a flippant question, but he is trying to bring a bit of levity to the conversation.

Sam can appreciate a bit of levity, considering he does it so much himself.

"From what I was taught spirits were the Maker's first children. When he created his second children, us, some spirits grew angry and jealous, transforming themselves into what we call demons. That's why they want to enter this realm, find a host."

"That's what the Chantry believes," Cyril points out. "The Dalish teach that they just are. They're something different. As much as foxes or horses are something different."

"Either way, I'm not a fan."

"I suppose that's what the Dalish believe," he says with a small grin, using Cyril's words to return point out. "I don't think what the Dalish taught is quite right either. It would probably be more skin to the difference of a mabari to a wolf; different but fundamentally a canine. We call them demons, but they're just spirits that are malevolent. And as much as I don't agree with the Chantry on things, I do think the transformation part holds some significance. Something can sway a good spirit to be something it wasn't before."

Sam blinks after that, realizing how much he had actually said and gives a sheepish chuckle. "Sorry."

Cyril shakes his head and nudges Sam gently. "Don't apologize. Listening to you talk about spirits makes it worth it."

Then, after a moment, "Tell me more."

"What, you like hearing me talk about spirits?" He chuckles lightly at that, raising a brow at his lover.

"Well, what would you like to hear about? It's quite the vast subject."

"Why don't you start by telling me about your Fortitude spirit? How did you meet them? Was it all part of a ritual for spirit healing or did you form a connection before that?" This isn't something they've talked a lot about and he realizes he wants to change that. Learning more about spirits should be a benefit of loving a spirit healer.

"Fortitude?" he asks. There's a moment where Sam pouts his lips and looks elsewhere as he considers Cyril's questions before returning his gaze to the elf. "Yes, it was all part of a ritual that I met him. Being a spirit healer is dangerous so finding and making a contract with one particular spirit is beneficial. But you need to show that you are worthy, or compatible, and there are... trials."

"Is it difficult to talk about?" Cyril asked, a little worried he had touched a nerve that wasn't something Sam would want to share.

"Mmm, no. It isn't particularly difficult to talk about. The ritual has it's similarities to a Harrowing, but the biggest thing is that I had a choice in doing it and it's for looking for a benevolent spirit, not a demon. It's just... it's been a while since I took it that I can't remember some of the details very well."

Cyril understands. "A bit like me trying to remember my first hunt, I'd imagine. I know there was a wolf, but nothing much more beyond that. It fades into the memories of every other hunt."

"How old were you when you went on your first hunt?" Cyril already said he didn't remember much besides a wolf, so asking for details wouldn't get very far. Course he was turning this conversation onto Cyril, when the elf was asking him about Fortitude.

"But... yes, similar to your first hunt. I can remember details that stood out, but there isn't much of a story beyond 'I took a test and made a contract'. Mainly because... Fortitude tested me a lot in endurance. There was a lot of walking and at one point climbing, to the point of exhaustion, seeing when I would give up, and applying that to giving up on others and such."

"I was sixteen. I think most of the reason I don't remember has to do with adrenaline, really. The first time I was responsible for feeding the Clan, the danger of wild animals. All of that." Then, after listening to Sam.

"That sounds like something Merrick would enjoy. For his first hunt, he sought out and killed a bear." He sighs a bit. "But not something anyone else would suffer through without a good reason. I hope that he was impressed by how well you follow through on things you set out to do. It's one of the things I admire about you."