MOD PLOT ↠ NONE TO RETURN

[faderifting]

WHO: All characters signed up to participate in the Battle of Ghislain
WHAT: The Inquisition regroups and heads home
WHEN: Covers the period immediately post-battle (11.28) through the journey back to Kirkwall (11.29-12.1)
WHERE: North of Montfort, Orlais, and on the road to Val Chevin
NOTES: This is Post #2, covering the immediate aftermath of the battle and the journey back to Kirkwall. It's a free-for-all. Post #1 covers the battle itself. More info on the OOC post.

The Inquisition and Orlesian armies eventually limp to a halt along the Imperial Highway north of Montfort, where wide fields and gentle hills offer clear lines of sight and a sparsely equipped fortress provides some shelter and fortification. It's a soundly strategic location—if Ghislain is lost, Montfort is the last major city between the invaders and Val Royeaux—but among the rank and file there may be too much chaos to appreciate it.

For the remainder of the day and well into the night, the fortress and surrounding land are a frenzy of activity. The wounded who were not left on the field must be triaged and tended to with limited supplies, while many healers and surgeons out of commission themselves and the remainder worked to the bone. Scouts, soldiers, and even support staff in sturdy enough condition to keep working may be tasked with assembling camp from the few remaining supplies, taking reports on known casualties or acquired intelligence, or further fortifying the new location. The Orlesian army sends one of its battered cavalry units toward Ghislain to attempt to provide some warning, and from the Inquisition's number a few patrols are sent back toward the battlefield or toward Ghislain, with stern orders not to re-engage, only to watch for signs of pursuit, and to direct any stragglers.

Those who remain in the fortress are in for a long, miserable night, with meager rations and makeshift bedding, if any of either, while the wind shifts directions and grows colder. By morning a number of the wounded have died, but attempts to build a pyre are hampered by the sudden swell of a storm that starts with freezing rain and then transitions to early and unpredicted thick, heavy snow.

For a few hours that morning the two armies attempt business as normal, but it soon becomes clear that the storm is getting stronger, and they risk being snowed in with more people than they can feed. Many, including the Inquisition's Gallows contingent, are ordered to disperse. Many crowd into wagons, with any transportable wounded receiving further attention en route and neighbors hunching close to preserve heat whether they like one another or not, while those able to do so follow on foot or horseback over the rough, flash-frozen highway toward Montfort and then west toward Val Chevin. The storm doesn't abate until they've nearly reached the city, but once there they're able to stop, eat, and spend a few hours indoors thawing out before proceeding home.

Comments

[coquettish_trees]

"Have you!" Alexandrie's eyebrows fly up and her smile spreads at the potential for gossip much the same way a hawk's flight changes when it catches movement below. Simultaneously, something small and foolish twinges in her chest.

"And whyever should you not encourage them? Unless of course someone has already caught your eye?"

Handkerchiefs and flirtation and Satinalia hovering with the kind of smile that speaks of secrets shared and her fingers itch with the temptation of pettiness; how easily she could wind the bandage a little too tightly and claim inexperience.

You ruined it and you are happy now and love another and it matters not, it matters not, it matters not.

But the crystalline clarity with which Alexandrie can imagine them together is intolerable. She smiles over it, an invitation to feminine conspiracy.

[indissection]

The look goes almost unnoticed as Sidony focusses entirely on her own wound and making sure it is dealt with properly. There's an edge of something sharply judgemental about her as her eyes flick over the skin and the salve, the burn disgusting and disfiguring, but she can worry about that latter. Scars can be hidden, and at least this is not on her face. That would be far more troublesome indeed.

Finally, she looks up, raising her own brows and smiling coyly at Alexandrie, lifting a shoulder as if none of this matters much at all in the grand scheme.

"That is always the way of men, isn't it? They see a handsome face and think themselves the only one that can be the subject of a woman's attention. They'd fall at my feet and I'd sooner clamber over them." It's an easy thing to admit to another woman, not something she might necessarily say to a man. It's a game when men flirt with her, trying to get something, vying for attention; she uses them for what she wants.

Few men have ever avoided the trap.

"There is no one of importance, of course." She tilts her wrist, just a little, thinking of her brother, of Byerly, of the friends she is making. "I've barely been here long enough to make that sort of mark, wouldn't you agree?"

[coquettish_trees]

"Such things can be the work of a single moment, cherie," Alexandrie replies gaily, "or at least the beginnings of them may be." After all, it had happened quickly enough to her.

Sidony could be dissembling, of course. Alexandrie would. There is little reason to give power of that sort—the knowing of ones true interests—to another person, and a great deal to refrain from doing so. Even so, whatever little feelings of jealousy (jealousy, really, how unforgivably childish) she'd been picking at are summarily stepped on and flounced away from as she re-wraps Sidony's arm. It's not the expert work of a surgeon, but it's perfectly serviceable and secure all the same.

[indissection]

"Can they?" Sidony pauses, thoughtful, considering. She thinks of Max, pushed together in the midst of the Dark Court, a door shut behind them, no one to see her as she leans close and wonders what it might be like, how dangerous, how delicious, to share something intimate with another woman. She thinks of it and feels her cheeks grow warm - shame or nerves, she can't quite tell - which is enough to have her shaking her head.

Now is not the time for such silly, stupid thoughts.

Looking at her own arm, Sidony relaxes a little, flexing her fingers.

"You are not quite as terrible at this as you might think."

[coquettish_trees]

"High praise indeed," replies Alexandrie wryly, but she inclines her head in acceptance of the compliment in any case. "Now, all that is left is that you must finish that broth, and then I shall return your threaded needle, and you may return to your task with the promise that I shall no longer hinder you."

She pauses, her eyebrows raising again as she adds a caveat:

"For the next few hours."

[indissection]

"I do try." Sidony gives her something a very sweet, soft smile, as if she is perfectly charmed by the other woman - and she does mean it, at least a little. Alexandrie has been wonderful to her, taking care of her, and there's no way for her to deny the fact that she needed the break. The broth is good and the company has been sweet.

"Thank you. Truly. Your kindness has been noted and appreciated, my lady."