[open] can somebody please just tie me down

[thereneverwas]

WHO: Barrow + you
WHAT: Bedrest and recuperation from Awful Things
WHEN: August
WHERE: mostly the Gallows
NOTES: I'll make starters if people want 'em

I.
Bedrest is ideal for people who like to read, or sleep, or sit around pondering life's mysteries. Although Barrow likes sleep as much as the next person, and reading is fine, he has little use for life's mysteries and finds more often than not that he is simply staring at the ceiling and unfairly wishing ill on the medic who impressed on him the need for his joints to mend this way.
He is, perhaps, a little grumpier than usual, but also absolutely desperate for any form of stimulation, so visitors are welcome. Especially if they have treats.

II.
When he's up and about again, Barrow knows better than to go straight to the training pitch and start swinging his hammer around, so instead he defaults to the more leisurely activity of ferrying off to the nearest pub and parking himself there to absorb whatever jollity is occurring at the moment.
He probably drinks too much, especially now, with so much going through his mind; but it's hard to help it, when there's very little else to do and so much he doesn't want to think about. At least he's a pleasant and agreeable drunk, not all that different from when he's sober, but with the sort of absent-minded nihilism that has historically made him either a good lay or a recipient for one's woes. He's rather more open to the latter these days, though the former has its place, at least for the right person.

Comments

i.

[sulahnan]

She heard about the order of bed-rest from Colin, and imagining being confined to bed for a week with nothing to do made her feel weirdly itchy and restless. Ironic? Maybe.

But what that means is this: when she visits Barrow, she comes bearing gifts.

"I am here," she announces as she nudges the door open with her butt because her arms are full. She then tries to leg it shut but nearly drops one of the treasures she brought. "Shit. Uh--I am here to brighten your day!"

And then she sets a kitten on his chest, thus freeing up one hand to pull up a chair.

[thereneverwas]

He is, luckily for both of them, wearing a shirt when Athessa arrives. And although Barrow is about to wave her off and tell her that no attention or treasures are necessary, there's a kitten, whom he immediately scoops up and kisses on their little fuzzy head, because how could you not.

"I'm manfully indisposed," he asserts, moments after, still holding tightly to the kitten.

[sulahnan]

"The fuck does that mean? Manfully indisposed," She scoffs lightly and arranges her limbs in the chair some way that the inventor of chairs could never foresee. Nobody expects bisexual disasters. "Sounds like some kinda euphemism."

The book she brought gets wedged between her leg and the arm rest, the match and joint are both tucked behind one ear, and the last treasure--a half-full burlap bag of coffee--gets playfully waved at him. He might be able to get three whole cups of coffee out of that; more if he drinks small cups and reuses the grounds.

[thereneverwas]

"It means I'm very tough and manly and don't need creature comforts," he says, but all the very tough and manly meaning is lost as he mushes the purring kitten's head against his mouth.

"Is that...?" he dares ask, nodding toward the coffee.

[sulahnan]

"Yup. It's not the best, but it's the most available without being chicory." And the most important thing about it, in her opinion, is that it still smells great. A fact that she demonstrates by inhaling the scent through the burlap, then sighing dreamily.

[thereneverwas]

Barrow affects a large-eyed look of great emotion.
"What did I do to deserve such sacrifice?"

[sulahnan]

"Maybe it's to celebrate you getting a teensy bit taller," she suggests with a smirk. Because he was on the rack, see? "But since when do you need to earn a little kindness?"

I

[keenly]

There's a light knock at the door before it opens and Colin comes in with a tray. It being morning, the tray contains coffee--not real coffee, but something made from chicory root, which tastes nearly the same and still has all the benefits for the choleric humor. Breakfast is eggs, ham, and a melon salad.

"Here you are," he says cheerfully, passing the tray to Barrow before pulling up a chair beside him. "How are you feeling?"

[thereneverwas]

"Oh," Barrow sighs, smelling the food before he sees it, "better now. You've saved me from starvation."
He's not feeling great, per se, and doesn't love being confined to a bed, but it's hard to keep a person like Barrow from defaulting to chipper.
Especially when it comes to creature comforts.

"What news of the world?" He asks, spearing a forkful of eggs.

[keenly]

"No different from yesterday," Colin says good-naturedly as he goes about taking the relevant treatments from his belt. "Did you sleep well?"

[thereneverwas]

"Yes, I suppose," Barrow muses-- he doesn't really pay attention to things like whether or not he sleeps well, unless he truly hasn't.
"Or should I say, I did, and will continue to throughout the day?"

[keenly]

"Excellent. You've been changing position now and then?" Just in case, Colin peels back the covers to check Barrow's heels.

[thereneverwas]

"I-- yes," Barrow replies, a little alarmed by how quickly Colin simply went for the covers.

"Fresh," he remarks with a smirk, "you're lucky I've got pants on today, young man."

i

[coquettish_trees]

There are a few more things bedrest is ideal for, although granted not all of them ideal for the rester. Terribly intimate moments, captive audience, protracted interrogation, playing at cards; the necessary components for the last of which are in a little woven basket hanging from Alexandrie's elbow when she comes to visit.

"Ser Barrow!" she exclaims brightly in greeting, "How pleased I am to see you continue to retain your arms!

"I see you are terribly busy," with the no other people that are here, "but I wondered if you might take a moment for me?" The deck is produced, and tilted back and forth such that it becomes a question in itself.

[thereneverwas]

"I think you will find I have an abundance of moments," Barrow replies, opening his hands in a magnanimous welcoming gesture, and clearly in a far better mood than he was the last time they spoke.

"How kind of you to come see me, Lady Asgard. And to be the reason my arms remain, to boot."

[coquettish_trees]

"Ah! But positioning matters little without thrust," she replies, tilting her head with an impish smile as she moves the nearby chair to a better distance for a game, and then sits with a precision such that her skirts hardly need to be resettled at all to drape nicely. The basket goes on the bedside table, the deck is straightened in her hands, and her hands are let to settle in her lap. "And so I must insist we share that honor."

[thereneverwas]

The laugh he gives is genuine, loud even when her wordplay connects, and he nods lowly as though defeated.

"Insist away," he decides, "I'm your servant."

[coquettish_trees]

"How fortunate for me! You may carry my parasol for me once you are well," her smile is a bright one; she may be joking, she may not be, "but until then—" she taps the deck smartly with the tip of her finger, "are you familiar with Mariage?"

[thereneverwas]

"How magnanimous-- marriage?" A coolness enters Barrow's gaze, though he keeps smiling: the king of his domain abruptly transforming into a prisoner.
"Did my father send you?" It's a joke, but a bit stilted.

ii

[tender]

Derrica does not visit Barrow in the infirmary, nor when he is confined more or less to his bed. She's done her part in Orlais, and presumably he has friends to look in on him now.

When she does see him, it's almost by accident. There are taverns she prefers, full of sailors and fisherman, and she'd been visiting a pretty bartender on this particular night. At the sound of his voice, her head comes around, skimming the crowd before coming to rest on him. It takes a moment before she crosses the room, hands empty, to study him.

"I heard you're supposed to be resting," is all she says, still stood apart from him. Maybe there's no cause to check in. He's upright, and he looks better. They can have this conversation and be done.

[thereneverwas]

Several drinks in already, Barrow isn't surprised to see Derrica, per se-- Riftwatchers come in and out all the time, that's not news. It's that she speaks to him, outside the context of their confinement and daring escape, that gets his attention right away.

"I am resting," he says, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement at his own cleverness, and he raises his mug while gesturing to the open seat beside him. Come sit.

[tender]

A frown pinches at her expression. She doesn't really want to come sit. She should be satisfied with the explanation offered and have done with this.

But she does perch. After a moment long enough to be tense.

"Have you spoken to Poesia since we got back?"

Because literally what else is she going to ask? Derrica isn't even certain what she expects out of this conversation. Not an apology; she doesn't blame Barrow for any part of that mission. Not the capture, not the miserable stretch of days in the cells, not even for the involuntary Silencing that battered over and over. They had been trying to survive. He had done his best to make sure they'd managed that.

But still, it is hard to weigh that against all the rest.

[thereneverwas]

Barrow's smile fades, but only a little. Poesia. How do you solve a problem like Poesia.
"Ah.. I have not," he admits, leaving out the unspoken 'I find her extremely unsettling'.
"Why?"

[tender]

Okay, bunny.

"Because someone should be making sure she's alright."

Not necessarily Barrow's responsibility, considering his injuries and how taxing recovery must have been, but.

"I don't forgive you," she says, because she has to. Because there's nothing else for her to say. But her expression has softened slightly as she continues, "But I know what you were trying to do while we were down there. And I appreciate it."

[thereneverwas]

He could ask why Derrica hasn't looked in on her, especially since he's been confined to a bed for a full week before now, but it seems pointless to pick a fight when all he truly wants to do is be as at peace with the people around him as any of them can manage.

Then, of course, Derrica speaks again, and Barrow is unable to mask that it stings. For one, he hadn't asked to be forgiven; for another, he's only slightly more aware of what he even needs to be forgiven for.

"S'pose that's all I can ask," he murmurs, taking a drink from his tankard.