Mia Rutherford (
lettersfromhome) wrote in
faderift2015-12-17 11:23 am
and if I only could make a deal with God
WHO: Mia Rutherford, Cullen Rutherford, and YOU
WHAT: Councils and meetings are well and good, but someone's got to see to the damage done and the people who need reassurances.
WHEN: Haring 12, 13, 14
WHERE: Closed thread in Cullen's office. Then, all over Skyhold. Mostly wherever an extra set of hands are needed.
NOTES: Possible discussion of traumatic events.
WHAT: Councils and meetings are well and good, but someone's got to see to the damage done and the people who need reassurances.
WHEN: Haring 12, 13, 14
WHERE: Closed thread in Cullen's office. Then, all over Skyhold. Mostly wherever an extra set of hands are needed.
NOTES: Possible discussion of traumatic events.
And she'd thought Darkspawn were terrifying. They had been, certainly, every bit as deadly and in numbers that could shake even the bravest of men. The images of Honnleath falling to the horde would never leave her mind, as long as she lived.
But that creature that had gone tearing through the castle...
Of course in its wake people wanted to turn it into a point of argument. The mages were quick enough to engage the more political side of the issue to protect their people. Not unwise, when blame would shift so quickly their way. But politics weren't her concern, certainly not those of the mages and templars. There were instead many in the hold who might need help picking back up after the nightmarish encounter with the monster.
Simple things could go a long way. Bandages and herbs for the injured. Mending torn clothes. Warm food and blankets as a comfort to those for whom the effects could not so easily be mended. They were not grand gestures, they would shape nothing in the grander course of things, but someone had to look out for the little people. She'd gladly take on that role.
----
Then, of course, her mind would turn to her brother. He'd faced abominations numerous times in his life, and being here meant she finally had the chance to look him in the eye, to see if he needed anything, and make certain he was holding together. That business tended to be harder to take care of through letters alone.
So her last stop of the day was the Commander's office, where she knocked sharp and brief before waiting exactly ten seconds. Then, answer or not, she was coming in.

On her drive-by visit ...
The call goes across the Great Hall, where Mia is doing her good works, and the tall form of Katniss appears between the groups of nobility and workers, all who still looked some degree of shaken. She slipped around them, easy as as a fish around the stones, making her way to the older woman.
"Thank the Maker, you're all right." She breathed out, going to her. "Were you hurt at all? How is everyone?"
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She took a step forward, one hand pressing to the side of Katniss's head, smoothing her hair back into place. "You look exhausted, dear. Did you run all this way?"
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She shook her head, and while it didn't completely displace all of Mia's work, a few tendrils curled at her cheek. "Rode. I need to speak to your brother, and Scout Harding, as soon as I've checked in. Have you seen either one of them?"
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"Take a deep breath. We'll find him."
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She looked around, "And since I am here - and his office can wait - what can I do to help you?"
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Mia's efforts and generosity were noticed, it was hard to not. Anyone that extended this kind of hand to the injured and frightened afterward earned Adelaide's respect. During a quiet moment between their tending to the mages and apprentices Adelaide brings a mug of tea to Mia, rather than a patient. "I would like to thank you for your help."
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The tea was accepted gratefully as she let out a breath, sinking back against a nearby bench. She'd been at this all day, and though she wouldn't have thought for a moment to complain it did sap one's reserves after a time. The tea would certainly help.
Still, after that first sip her focus turned back to those around them, her expression grim. "I hoped to never again see suffering like this. And yet it persists, in one form or another. Maker save us."
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She would rather Mia not burn herself out quite so soon.
"Gather enough mages, leave them frightened and uncertain- I hate to say that I have been expecting something- a rash of terrible dreams, nightmares, illness- but I did not quite expect something so terrible as this." She should have.
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As much sympathy as she might have for the curse the mages suffered under, everyone's safety should be a concern. There was no call to lock them all away in what would amount to a new circle, but this couldn't be ignored.
Her lips pursed, a hand lifting to her temple with a soft noise.
"Those poor people..."
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And inevitable for all their foolishness and arguments- the should have done more. They should have done better to protect the younger mages, those that were most vulnerable. And now the garden was ruined, people were dead, and a youth had been lost through no true failing of his own. She grimaced at the memory of Lauren at the end, eyes terrified, body warped. "Keeping them calm and helping them feel safe, now, is all the more important- for the mages and for everyone else in the hold."
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When the door opened and closed, he looked up. He had long shed his armor, having placed it back in his quarters. He ached from the battle, and while he had seen several small burns from the attack, he had made sure the healers had taken care of everyone else. He'd find time later to have himself checked out. "Mia," he starts, and truthfully, his spirit lifts. There's something to be said about having family close, something he hasn't been wanting to admit since she'd arrived. He had missed his family.
"I am glad you're here, I was going to find you." Eventually is left out, for when he's eventually dragged himself out of the office.
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He looked battered, but unbeaten. Good, there was at least that. She moved forward, toing away some debris from the ceiling of his office that had fallen to the floor before peering upwards. Her lips pursed, but she chose to keep her thoughts on the condition of the tower to herself. For the moment.
But it's easier to be annoyed with poor living conditions than it is to look at him and feel that stab of guilt. He's gone through worse, so much worse, and she wasn't there for it. With another deep breath she'd stepped closer, a hand lifting to his shoulder.
"Tell me truly. Are you alright? And I should warn you, if you insist on being stubborn and trying to just wave me off, I may actually hit you. I've got no patience for heroes today."
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"I-" It sounded like he was going to protest. I'm fine, he wants to say. But he's not fine, and fine is a far, far place from here. He doesn't look at her, because he feels the guilt. People got hurt because of decisions he had made. His tone drops low, and he sighs. "I am far from alright, Mia. I should have been able to do more."
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The sternness bled from her face at Cullen's confession, suprisingly candid given how prone he was to internalizing. How haunted he looked now, shadows in his eyes that were too recognizable, too familiar. Maker, be kind to him.
Gently she lifted a hand, pressed it to his cheek, imploring him silently not to turn away. They were family. And there was nothing he could do that could make her feel ashamed of him. "But I don't believe for a moment that if there was something more that could have been done, you wouldn't have done it," she finished, a firm edge to her voice.
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He regrets it, even now, that for once he had put himself and his well-being first and people ended up dead because he could not do more. He doesn't pull away from her touch, but instead turns to look at her. If he can't trust his own sister, who could he even trust in this world?
"I stopped taking lyrium when I left the Templars in Kirkwall. If I ha still been taking it things would have ended differently with that abomination."
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The Healing Tents [can just be a handwave unless you feel like responding!]
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Even a few moments spared might help. The elf looked as though she were still recovering from the shock of it all.
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Are you alright? I will be.
"I'm certain that's true," Mia replied in firm but gentle tones. "Do you have anyone here to look after?"
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He was still shaken all the same, and he spent the next day hiding in safe corners when he could and sneaking around as quickly and quietly as he could the rest of the time, shooting nervous looks over his shoulder at the merest sounds. He still wasn't quite clear on what had happened, and while the danger seemed to be past, there was no knowing for sure.
He happened to be giving the yard behind him one of those quick, nervous searches as he turned the corner, and he ran straight into a pair of legs with an oomph.
"Oh!" he said, flushing with embarrassment as he turned to look up at the woman. "Begging your pardon, I - I wasn't looking where I was going."
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Well it hardly mattered what he was, the poor thing looked frazzled beyond belief. Unsurprising given the state of things. She'd managed to keep a hold of the basket in her arms, but her expression turned quickly from surprise to concern.
"Maker's breath. Are you alright?"
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And if there was any weariness in her bones, she was steadfastly ignoring it, out of stubbornness. Too much to do to let a little thing like that get in the way.
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