faderift | 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.

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.

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"You're not wrong. I don't know how long it'll be before I feel comfortable closing my eyes again," she confesses with a shake of her head. "But we'll all do what we can, won't we?"

There was a pause, and then a glance in the direction Sam had been hurrying towards. "Do you need any help? Or was there some other reason you were dashing around so determinedly?"

"Yes, ma'am," Sam agrees meekly. He's not sure what he's meant to be doing, exactly, or if he's really doing all that he can or not, but he hopes he is, anyhow.

He looks surprised at the question, and then quickly shakes his head. "Oh, no, I'm all right. That is - well - I was just hoping to find a bite of lunch, if there was anything to find," he admits, blushing slightly. He'd been holed up in his room late into the day, hiding from the awful noise and the aftermath outside, until hunger had finally driven him out. His stomach rumbles just as he finishes speaking, and the blush deepens as he looks at Mia in alarm.

That brought forth a chuckle, the corners of Mia's eyes crinkling. "Ah. Well, luckily that's easier to mend than most things. I believe there's stew being made, and some bread being passed around. The warmth does good things for the soul, if you ask me."

One hand beckoned gently for Sam to follow.

Sam perks up when she mentions stew, and perks up further at the promise of bread. He follows Mia eagerly, gazing up at her with something akin to wonder.

"That it does; and a fair bit of good for the body as well," he agrees enthusiastically. "But I don't mean to take you from - well, from whatever it was you might've been doing."

"What I've been doing is seeing to everyone and ensuring they have what they need," she replies primly. "So you'll be assisting me, actually. Does that suit you, Master...?"

Here stands a lull, an opportunity for him to introduce himself as she cocks her head in his direction.

He smiles, all too glad to help, especially if helping in this case means helping himself to lunch. "Samwise Gamgee," he introduces himself, trying to bow and walk at the same time and nearly succeeding. "Only you can drop the Master, that is, if you like. Just Sam will do well enough."

What an endearing young man. Mia almost laughs at the attempted bow and inclines her head politely in turn, though managing to do so with a bit more grace about her. "Mia Rutherford. It's very good to meet you, Sam, though I do wish conditions were better."

There were certainly better ways for people to meet than in the wake of tragedy, but better to forge friendships in hard times than attempt to shoulder everything alone.

Sam shakes his head. "If we waited til all our troubles got smoothed over first, why we'd never meet anyone new, or do anything at all," he observes. "But that's the way of it, isn't it? I never knew there was this many people in the world - in any world - until trouble found me and I had to leave home, and meet them all."

"Well I hope it wouldn't take trouble to meet new people every time. Asking for trouble or loneliness hardly seems a fair decision to make," Mia replies, though she's smiling quite broadly by now. Sam presents a decent point. He's obviously a very thoughtful young man. The world could stand to have a few more of those.

"And where is it you come from? You're not from Orzammar, I take it?"

"Orzammar?" Sam repeats, looking confused. Then his expression brightens. "Oh! That must be where the dwarves live, mustn't it? But no, I'm not from there at all; nor am I a dwarf." He smiles, in a good enough mood between the promise of a meal and the (potential at least) new friend that he doesn't even mind explaining again. "I'm a hobbit, and I'm from the Shire in Middle-earth, though it's probably faster just to say that I'm from far away, and - well." He holds up his left hand, letting her see the mark that all Rifters bear.

"Oh!"

So he was a Rifter, one of those that had passed through the Fade from another land. She'd not heard of this Shire or Middle-Earth, and the thought that Sam might be here alone? Well. That just made her all the more determined to make sure he was taken care of.

"I see. You'll forgive my ignorance, then. I don't think I've ever met a hobbit before." It did present something a little more pleasant to discuss than the recent tragedy, however, and she was quick to seize upon the opportunity. "And what is it like where you come from in this 'Shire'?" Mia presses on, brow lifting in curiosity.

Sam smiled up at her. No one here (save Galadriel) had ever met a hobbit before, it seemed, but by now he was used to it. It was more than enough that she was interested in learning more about him.

"Oh, it's wonderful," he said enthusiastically. "There's everything there one would need: fields and rivers, and hills and woods. Plenty of green everywhere. And of course it's full of hobbits of all shapes and sizes, so long as the size is small and the shape is stout!"

The laugh that followed was surprisingly genuine. She hadn't honestly laughed in some time, but it was hard not to with Sam's very unique way of describing his homeland and its people.

"Well that's fair, I suppose!" she managed after a moment. "Though it does sound lovely. It's much the same in South Reach, where I am from. We might simply be a bit taller."

Sam beamed, thrilled that he'd been able to make her laugh. "I've no doubt of it," he says. "But I'm sure it is lovely too. I've seen a lot of places, and some of them more beautiful than I could ever have dreamt - but there's something special about, well, home, I think. Something you can't quite find anywheres else."

and if I only could make a deal with God

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