faderift | [Closed] And Fate is Pulling You

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[Closed] And Fate is Pulling You

WHO: Adasse Agassi and Sorrel Ashara (Guest Starring Beleth Ashara)
WHAT: Because you know what you need when everything else is Blue Flu and chaos? Your not-boyfriend getting kidnapped by a gang
WHEN: After this conversation.
WHERE: The Gallows/Darktown
NOTES: Violence, threats of mutilation, racist slurs of an ugly elven nature

The note had been simple enough - Sorrel wanted Adasse to meet him down in the kitchens. Which ... was good, right? It meant that Sorrel wanted to have further contact with him and Adasse could talk to him about this whole 'ma'nehrn' word and what that meant to Sorrel. Then Adasse could ... try to ... tell Sorrel what he meant to Adasse, but how he wasn't pressuring him and how he could pick his Clan. That he would say, with all due respect to said Clan, that he'd give anything to be worthy of Sorrel's affections, but then again, he wouldn't force Sorrel into anything at all and -

Maker, he should just give this whole mess up -

Something in his throat tightened when he entered the smaller side kitchen, but it wasn't nervousness. It was a jolt of fear. There was flour spread on the floor, and clear signs of a struggle. Mostly damning though, was the basket of jam pies, tipped over, with one or two pies crushed under the heel of a sharp boot. Sorrel was nowhere to be found, and Adasse immediately went looking around the place for any sign of him ... or who could have him.

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"I. I don't know. I thought maybe...you might be mad at me," He tried to remember exactly why he'd been so sure. There had been a reason. Sorrel closed his eyes again, to help his memory, but all that did was make it harder to open them again, "I'm always saying the wrong thing, making an ass of myself. Big mouth."

It was ironic, really. Like a joke, with his vallaslin. Dirth'amen would surely have disowned him, if he knew someone like Sorrel aspired to his virtues.

"Everyone likes gifts. Gift pies," It was getting harder and harder to stay upright, but Sorrel doggedly shook himself out of the comfortable slump he'd been falling into. How long was this damned boat ride anyways? "You have to give a gift when you apologize. S'polite. Dalish tradition, gotta, gotta show you mean it, not just saying it."

"I was never mad at you, Sorrel, although I appreciate the thought. I was just ... I don't know, confused. About why you pushed me away. I understand now though, I get it." He gave Sorrel a little shake, "Don't close your eyes! Look in my eyes!"

He held Sorrel up, looking frantically to their destination. The Gallows were coming up, after all. "Yeah, I know, it's all about you being Dalish. But we'll worry about that when you're not about to die from poisoning."

"But you wanted to learn! Or... or for me to teach, I... I forget. I thought nobody here wanted to know things like that," Adasse was shaking him, why was he shaking him? It wasn't fair, if Adasse was going to say he wasn't mad while being so mean. What was the truth?

He opened his eyes, suddenly afraid that Deheune would be watching, saying kind things and meaning them so unkindly. She would have shaken him too, Sorrel thinks. Perhaps he wasn't making enough sense.

"I like your eyes," He tries, mumbling now. Perhaps Adasse will stop shaking him if Sorrel pleases him, and who doesn't like compliments? Anyways, it's true isn't it? "You have nice eyes. I like-- I like them."

Nailed it.

"I do want to learn, I want to know about your people and your faith ... and I want to know you too. So don't die on me, all right? Remember, you promised. You said you'd keep looking at me."

He's stroking Sorrel now, just trying to keep him awake however possible. They finally reach the docks, and Adasse leans in, just as Sorrel ... tells him he likes his eyes.

His smile softens, as he picks up Sorrel bride-style, and resists the urge to kiss the poisoned, adorable elf. "Thank you. I rather like your eyes as well."

And now, he's running up the docks, as fast as he can with Sorrel firmly in his grip.

Beleth is not usually an intimidating woman. She doesn't try to be, she gets far further in life by looking cute and amicable.

But is neither looking cute nor amiable, while she stands at the entrance to the docks. She's rigid, tense, and utterly cold. Her eyes, locked onto Adasse as he approaches, speak volumes for just how utterly furious she is, beyond snarling rage. It's an expression Sorrel might be familiar with, as one that had shortly followed Beleth stabbing a man in the face until he stopped having a face.

"Take him to my room." Part of her wants to demand to take Sorrel herself, but she doubts her ability to carry him, and definitely doesn't want to try it up multiple flights of stairs. "I've already been working on potions. Do you at least know the base of the poison that was used?" It's said in a tone that she not only doesn't expect Adasse to know, but suspects he doesn't know anything, and possibly never did.

She might be just a little upset.

"Oh no," Sorrel says quietly, watching her stalk towards them with suddenly wide eyes, "We're in trouble."

So much trouble. Sorrel seems to shrink in a little, meek in Adasse's arms. She's terrifying when she's truly angry, as much because she spends so much time not showing it as anything else. Like a flower that's grown teeth.

"Sorry," He tells Beleth as Adasse hustles them forward, not quite in a whisper, "I'm really sorry."

He's so, so sorry.

He almost wants to retreat, in the face of that fury. Pick up Sorrel and just run back to the boat. "We are in so much trouble. Me, more than you."

He huffed out a breath, nodding as he moved to carry Sorrel up to her rooms in the tower. He thinks about the symptoms. "Cyanide, got to be for the base. Probably with the speed? She put in deep mushroom to catalyze. Not sure if she added anything else, but we've still got the dagger, so you can test it.

He looks over at her, sorrow mixing with apology, "I'm sorry. I didn't know they knew about him. I would never put him in harm's way on purpose, I swear it."

"I'm not angry at you," Beleth tells Sorrel, angrily. But then there's a pause, as she hustles after Adasse up the stairs, reaching to touch Sorrel's hair, make sure that he's there, and he's safe. Relatively speaking.

The door to her room is opened, and she gestures to her bed, before moving to the table that holds a variety of apothecary instruments, as well as a large amount of jars filled with various plants, liquids, jellies, and whatever else could be of use. None of these were labeled. "Cyanide," She repeats after Adasse, and grabs a jar, inspecting it, then pulling out a spoonful of powder from it.

Adasse's apology isn't acknowledged. Instead, she looks up, staring at him blankly. "Why are you still here?" And then, to Sorrel: "Don't worry, I'll take care of this."

All of this. The poison, the gang, Sorrel's health.

Sorrel reaches when she does, brushing his fingers along the bumps of her knuckles, his own reassurance. I'm here, I'm here and alive.

He says nothing more, thereafter, merely hunkering down against the nausea and the grey tide of exhaustion, confusion reigning supreme. What he knew was Beleth's voice and the good-smelling presence of Adasse close at hand, warm through his shirt, and that for some ungodly reason he mustn't give in to the overwhelming desire to just sleep. It holds until it seems as if he'll be put down, his porter banished, an Sorrel rouses his own weak panic.

"No," The protest is small, anxious and confused, no stronger than Sorrel's unsteady hand fisted in Adasse's shirt, "Please don't go. Bel, lasa ma'saasha, please."

He's begging, not even cognizant of how pathetic it is; it would be no effort at all to deny him, pull his hand free

Adasse carries Sorrel, glad for the thousandth time that he took his own personal training so damned seriously. He made it to Beleth's room, out of breath but Sorreal still safely in his arms. He nodded at Beleth's order, going to put Sorrel down gently on the bed.

He looks over at her as she asks why he's still here - mouth opening - then shutting with abrupt surprise as Sorrel's hand curled into his shirt. He looked down at that hand, and knew he was totally lost on the sensible course of action. "I won't go anywhere, not until you tell me to, Sorrel."

He gives Beleth a half defiant, half nervous look, but he's not going anywhere unless she drags him out of here.

Beleth looks mighty close to dragging him out of there, staring at him with a look that is both angry and baffled. How dare he? Did he not just hear her? Is she dealing with insubordination and endangering her brother?

After a few moments of silent glowering, she turns to Sorrel and marches to his side to turn that glower down at him, all but shoving Adasse aside. "Excuse me? Who's bedroom is this, anyway? You're lucky I didn't just boot him right out the window, getting you kidnapped like that! I haven't completely decided against it, just yet." Despite the threats, she makes no actual moves against the unfortunate city elf, too busy giving Sorrel her Opinions.

"I am. Dying of poison," Sorrel told her, in a tone as if to say you know I hate this flavor of tea and yet still you serve it. The effect is only slightly spoiled by the way he struggles to find the words, "And you won't let me have. This one thing!"

With his free hand, he points, or tries to.

"Rude."

A less intelligent city elf would have pointed out that he did not get Sorrel kidnapped. Sorrel was kidnapped because Adasse cared about him. However, Adasse was not a stupid city elf.

So he let himself get shoved aside, backing against the wall but not leaving the room. He could have run - no, he never could have run. Not after all this. He just waited, holding his breath, wanting to go back to Sorrel's side but not wanting Beleth to kill him right in front of Sorrel.

"You are clearly not dying enough to stop being overly dramatic!" Beleth replies, like death itself would stop Sorrel from being dramatic. Like he wouldn't die and go be the very first spirit dedicated to drama.

"And I am stopping you from dying of poison. Which, again, he got you into, so I think I'm being quite magnanimous in letting him take off. So you have plenty of things! All sorts of things! Like me not kicking your butt for scaring me half to death!"

And just for that, she grabs his finger, and holds onto it. Try to point now.

"When you're dying of poison. You get to have. Whatever you want!" Sorrel told her, outraged, pointing with much more success now that she's holding his hand up, thanks, "I want Adasse to stay! He saved my life and I love him!"

He seems to be focusing the whole of is energy on trying to jab at her in emphasis to every third word. It is not a graceful motion, but it is surprisingly energetic.

I want Adasse to stay! He saved my life and I love him!

Adasse put one hand on his chest, a smile coming over his face from one end to the other. Right, right, not the time to focus on that. In fact who knew what kind of love he was acting about.

"... listen, uhm, I can offer a compromise?" He cleared his throat, looking from one to the other. "How about I just wait outside while she treats you, Sorrel, and then I can come back and watch over you."

Beleth's mouth is already open to yell at Sorrel, because ho boy is there a lot to unpack (loudly) there, but then Adasse speaks, and Beleth remembers he exists. It might be, slightly, just a little, unnerving, when both twins turn to him and shout in unison.

"YOU STAY OUT OF THIS."

And then, Beleth turns back towards Sorrel. "I don't care if the two of ran off to Orlais to get bonded, you need quiet, and you need rest, and you don't need him around while I, your twin sister, the one who has been unerringly by your side from birth onwards, saves your life!"

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[Closed] And Fate is Pulling You

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