Mia Rutherford (
lettersfromhome) wrote in
faderift2015-12-29 09:20 pm
and there's a glass on the table, they say it's gonna ease all my pain
WHO: Mia Rutherford and OPEN
WHAT: She spends a lot of time taking care of everyone else. She needs a drink or five to unwind before getting back to it.
WHEN: Current
WHERE: Herald's Rest
NOTES: Alcohol? Bad decisions?
WHAT: She spends a lot of time taking care of everyone else. She needs a drink or five to unwind before getting back to it.
WHEN: Current
WHERE: Herald's Rest
NOTES: Alcohol? Bad decisions?
She's not proud of herself for this. But there are breaking points, and she's nearing one, and it's better to deal with them pre-emptively than not, and have a fuss be made later. There are things that are completely out of her control, Maker knows, and she needs to make her peace with them.
Wine helps. So does the ambiance of the tavern, even if she sits alone. There's a homesickness that claws at her, though she refuses to let it take root too deeply. There's work to be done here, after all--
No. No work tonight. Just...relax. Listen to the music and the noise and the banter and try to let it go.
Easier said than done, but she'll muddle through it. Stubbornness is a Rutherford family trait, apparently.

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Still, whatever she did want must be important.
Mouth thinning, Mia pushes to her feet, leaving her wine glass behind. "Lead on," she replies primly.
Thankfully, she isn't drunk. A little warm, but walking ought not be an issue.
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She leads Mia to the room she shares with Krem over the tavern. Krem isn't around, so Pel lights a few candles and offers Mia a seat on the bed.
"I'm not sleeping with Cullen. I'm helping him with the headaches he gets from not taking lyrium. I couldn't say it on the wall and I wasn't sure if you knew what he was doing."
There. Misunderstanding straightened out, no hard feelings?
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What Pel actually says hadn't even been a consideration. Perhaps that was a mistake on her part. She's the fool now, isn't she? Taking someone's word at face-value. Mia says nothing at first. It's not true. None of it. Some small measure of relief settles there, but it doesn't last long.
Well, the girl's blunt. She has that in her favor. If nothing else.
Finally her jaw works stiffly, eyes a little harder. "...I see."
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"I want to teach you how to do what I've been doing. So you can take care of him instead, and these rumors are put to rest. You're the one who ought to be doing it anyway; there's something to be said for the healing of a loved one's touch."
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The words are clipped, and Mia's arms fold over her chest. Perhaps telling her directly after drinking a great deal was not as clever a plan as Pel imagined, but there was no helping it now.
It was all she could do to hold her tongue, at this point, and not speak her mind in very plain terms. Pel had come around to telling her truth, after all.
Eventually.
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"Or...not, if you don't want to."
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"Do I not appear grateful?" The words were all but bitten out. "Then I apologize. I'm quite thankful that you've decided to be forthright with me."
Her eyes narrow.
"Now that you've deemed it appropriate to do so."
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"I had to ask Cullen, first. And anyway, we were on the wall. Someone could hear."
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No. That was personal. That, she doesn't get to have. She drew herself up again, a deep breath taken. "And if you thought my brother would agree to such dishonesty, you don't know him at all. And never did."
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"Let's get you back downstairs where it's warm and there's something to drink and we'll talk about how to make a compress that'll help his headaches."
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What is this woman?
No. No matter. She'll trust her no farther than she can be thrown, in the future, and that will be that.
"Are you certain you don't mind being overheard?" she replies coldly.
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She snuffs the candles in the room and opens the door for Mia.
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If she's trying to warm up to her again, it's the wrong tack to take. She does take the open door, however. That anger gets balled up, shoved into a corner to be dealt with later.
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Once they're downstairs, Pel orders two bowls of soup and bread to go with, and some wine for them both. She takes her bowl and dips the bread.
"I'll teach you once you've eaten up."
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Rutherford stubbornness was a difficult thing to contest, particularly when they were in a mood. She resumed the seat she'd taken, and Pel was left with two bowls of soup to herself, while Mia ordered her own glass of wine.
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"Food's yours if you want it. Do with it as you please, but don't leave it for me to clean up."
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She'd said 'no'. She'd said a great deal in the last few minutes, none of which seemed to matter at all to the elf. Expecting her word to then carry any weight at all was a touch hypocritical, where Mia sat.
Drinking her wine. Quite content not to have anything to do with her soup.
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"There's also an extra glass of wine. The food's for if you want less of a hangover in the morning. I'm leaving it up to you. You're an adult. You can take care of yourself, calm yourself, and have perspective. You don't need me arguing with you for that. I'm just here to walk you to your quarters when you're done here."
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"No. You're here to tell me about the compresses. And if you are not, then we have nothing to discuss."
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No. She's endured all the foolishness she's willing to endure for the night. Pel has lied to her, insulted her, and ignored her wishes entirely. If the woman is more concerned with her own agenda than seeing to Cullen's continued care, then Mia has no use for her. And no reason at all to tolerate the continued aggravation.
"Get out of my sight. And do not speak to me again."
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"I'm sorry. For lying, and for my buggered attempts to calm you down. I know shit about talking to people. I'll teach Cullen tomorrow and he can teach you."
She picks up the bowl of soup and bread and walks away, setting the food at a table full of soldiers and heading upstairs.