faderift | (no subject)

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(no subject)

WHO: Felix and Adelaide. Then Felix and OPEN.
WHAT: Felix isn't feeling well and collapses. Adelaide tends to him. After, he's up for visitors but is still very weak.
WHEN: Current.
WHERE: The main hall. Then, Felix's private room.
NOTES: Description of illness?

[For Adelaide]

Felix was probably pushing himself too hard, if he was honest. It was becoming more and more clear every day that his time was running out. He didn't have much left and he wanted to try to get as much done as possible before. He had been up all night drafting letters home urging those he had ties with to support the Inquisition.

Then early in the morning he had gone to visit his father. The elder Alexius had fussed more than anything, but Felix still made the effort to try to see his father as much as he could, while he could. Then came arranging the letters to be sent north.

He was exhausted just doing those few things, though the lack of sleep hadn't been helping. He felt the headache coming on. There was a pounding in his head. It was rhythmic. A song. His ears were ringing with it and his head felt like it was swimming.

He made his way up the stairs to the main hall of Skyhold. He was planning to use this path to get to his room while picking up something to drink along the way, but when he bent to pick up the cup he felt his head swarm. His vision blacked.

He heard the gasps and exclamations from those in the hall as his body fell to the ground, but he wasn't aware of much else outside of that.

[OPEN]

Later he's in his room, resting. His body feels clammy. He's sweating but his skin feels so cold. There's very little color left in his cheeks which seem hallow and thin.

Still, he knows rumors are spreading about his health and he's willing to see visitors if anyone wants to see him.

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He focuses on breathing as she directs and calms down. It helps to know that he hadn't put people in danger by pushing himself too hard.

After he has control again he swallows.

"It... It happened a few years ago. We were travelling home from Orlais. I was meant to be enjoying my time away from university. The darkspawn attacked. They killed my mother and sickened me. My father was convinced that he could have protected us. He blamed himself. That's why letting go of me was so difficult for him. That's why he turned to the Venatori."

He doesn't say it's the Blight, but why else would he be talking about darkspawn?

"...You're blighted." Tainted.

She knew full well there was no fixing it- but this? She could not even manage to comfort him for what would come at the end. No power would block out the song at it's strongest. Nothing could be done for him then and he already spoke- saying it wouldn't stop.

What more could she do for him?

He looks very sadly at her. "I am," he admits. "I told you there was nothing that could be done."

"...I shall simply have to work harder to help you ignore the song until-" She sighs, squeezing his hand. "Until your time."

He looks down at their hands, a little surprised and very touched.

"It's very rare for someone to learn the truth and still be comfortable touching me."

"If I was going to be tainted by touching you- it would have happened already, Felix." She rolls her thumb across his knuckles.

He's comforted by the deliberate touch, more than he can even say. "My father was at least able to accomplish that."

Then, after a slight pause. "If he hears about this, he'll be worried. I know you have right to be angry with him, given what might have happened to other mages if his plan had worked, but do you think you can go see him later? To make sure he knows that for now I am still breathing."

He needs for Gereon to accept what will happen to him, but he doesn't want his father to worry needlessly without updated news.

"Then he has managed more than most." That he'd found a way to make this possible was admirable- even if what he'd done at Redcliffe- she hadn't been a part of that particular unpleasantness- his work must be respected.

"When I am done here I will pass that along." And she would not be done until she was certain he was stable again. The inability to breathe was concerning.

He leans back again and settles in. Comforted as much as he can be. He focuses on breathing again and manages to calm himself. His skin is still terribly pale and a line of sweat is coating his forehead.

In the quiet, he can hear the song again.

Compassion flows through their joined fingers, soothing what aches they can. Adelaide uses a kerchief to wipe the sweat from his brow, frowning at his tense expression. The song.

Were she able to share with him what she heard of the Spirits- she would. But all she has to offer his her own voice- and it was no great wonder. But it was something. An old, sad, wandering song, halting and hesitant, but it was what she could do. Whether it was a comfort or not- that was for Felix to decide.

It was a comfort. More than anything, though, it was something to focus on, to drown out the taint within his blood. He turned to look at her, focusing on her face and her mouth. He voice was beautiful, even if she was hesitant with it.

He shifted his hand to intertwine their fingers a bit. His grip was weak but at least he could show her that it was helping. She was helping.

She hasn't sung for ages- too much to do, too little time, others were better suited for it. On the odd occasion she'd sung for an old friend in the Spire when thoroughly drunk, if only to prove his taste in music was terrible. But this was- sober. Sobering.

As the song wound down she squeezed back. Attempted a faint smile. "...Shall I recommend you have company until you feel fit to rest? A sleeping draught might help you sleep without hearing it."

He doesn't want her to stop but it seems selfish to ask her to continue.

"A sleeping draught sounds wonderful." He doesn't think he can handle more company. He wants to be with her, but he's already troubled her enough.

"I think sleep will do a world of wonders."

"I can send for one and, perhaps, remain with you until it takes effect if you like." Men and their pride do not often weather baring their weakness easily- but to be alone with that song...it was not something she could leave him to. Not gladly.

Felix nodded at that and then closed his eyes a bit. He focused on getting his breath steady.

"Thank you."

She had to leave him long enough to stick her head in the hall and call for someone. To relay the need for a sleeping draught, to urge them to hurry before slipping back to her chair at Felix's side. Without hesitation she reached out once more to take Felix's hand. "It'll be here shortly."

Felix turns his hand a bit but he doesn't really have the strength to grip onto her hand. He gives her a soft smile, but it seems more like a grimace.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to-to worry you."

"Felix-" She cradles his hand between her own. "I worry for you whether you are having a good day or a bad one."

It simply is what she does.

"That's not healthy for you. Worrying about me... It's a waste. We know what will happen, there's no use adding to your stress." He says it calmly but manages to speak with reassurance, despite his exhaustion and how terrible he feels.

"It is not stressful to concern myself over the comfort of my patients. We know what will come, yes, but there is no reason for you to spend the last of your days strained, distressed, or uncomfortable." She cannot keep him alive- but she can try to keep him content.

He considers her for a moment.

"I promise I'll relax if you do."

"...This is relaxed?" It truly is as relaxed as she's managed to be in- well. Months. Since the Spire- but relaxing properly requires a vulnerability she cannot bear while minding a patient. Or anyone. Or herself.

Felix smiles a bit, though his face is still pretty weak so it's much more muted. "Then I will too," he says. "No more writing letters until late into the night."

"You should not have been doing that all the same. I know why but-" She leans forward, reaching over to brush her hand against his head, either testing his temperature or for aches in his skull, or simply to touch- she won't say. "It is a good way to give yourself a migraine. I would know."

His eyes close at the touch. It's comforting and he takes pleasure in it. "I seem to always have a headache these days," he admits.