OPEN

[deceivingly]

WHO: Yevdokiya an Waslyna O Bearhold, Tiffany Hart, Matthias, maybe my other characters + YOU
WHAT: a humble open log
WHEN: Fantasy March
WHERE: the Gallows, Kirkwall, the Wounded Coast
NOTES: bath nudity, butchering a seagull, nothing worse atm

Comments

[inkindled]

"You're my favorite healer," he tells her plainly and easily, with a grin, "I reckon your tutelage is the best I could get. I'd be well pleased."

Well. But he has to add, quickly, "This wasn't me trying to angle my way into free lessons or anything--it seems like it now, I know. Sorry. I should have just asked you straight out anyways, only I didn't think of it, somehow. You've got loads of stuff that you're doing, and loads of people want your attention and all. And I've a teacher, of course--" The absent Leander, and the reminder stabs at Matthias, a little, and he feels that shows on his face in a little wince but he pushes on by, he goes on-- "But I'd be happy to work with you if you're all right with that. I won't be too big a bother, swear. And you can tell me off if I break my word on that. Just tell me to shove off and I will."

Only Derrica probably wouldn't. Or she'd say it very kindly and Matthias wouldn't realize until much later. He leans against her again, all teasing and good faith.

[tender]

In answer, Derrica loops an arm around his shoulders, turns to smack a brief, fond kiss to his temple.

"You could never, ever be a bother."

Derrica tells him this so firmly, not meaning to leave any room for doubts. What could he possibly do that would bother her? If he asks questions, it would only be a good thing.

"Tomorrow you can come with me on my rounds. I'll show you how to do some simple things, alright? Even things you don't use magic for at all."

Maybe that would help too, giving Matthias a way to approach injuries that didn't rely on what sort of magic he could summon in the moment.

[inkindled]

Ears pink, grinning, Matthias rubs the heel of his hand against where Derrica had kissed him. Not to wipe it off, more to rub it in. Her arm around his shoulder is a comforting weight.

Of course, her words are even better. There's no value he can put on those, no way to explain how he's always felt a bother and a burden and a tag-a-long--at least, no way to explain it without sounding an idiot. Best when they were fighting and he had to be taken seriously and pulled into inner circles because he was the only one left. That's depressing, and doesn't have a place here, in the little circle that is him and Derrica.

"Yeah, all right. I'd like that. Thanks. And," he leans against her, "I'll buy you a drink after--two drinks, I reckon, if you can show me how to do a bandage and get the knot right so it stays but it doesn't cut off circulation to the bloody limb, either. I can never do that right."

cee put a bow on this so i can peer pressure you into shiny orzammar things

[tender]

"I'll tell you a secret," Derrica says, squeezing his shoulder tightly. "It's a little easier to get the bandaging right when you've had two drinks."

Not strictly true, but Matthias will benefit from the encouragement.

"Come on," she continues, straightening without loosening her arm from his shoulders. "I need to fetch my shawl but if you'd like, you could come have a drink with me now and we can practice on my arm."

Surely that's a less daunting prospect: learning the general sense of the thing before having to do it on someone bleeding or burned or whatever else.

ties a bow with one hand and shakes hands solemnly with other hand

[inkindled]

Matthias laughs, pleased with her answer and her proposal. He's in no hurry to get away from her or duck out from beneath the comforting weight of her arm around him.

"You're the best, swear." And he means it. No question: it will be easy to bandage Derrica's arm in this scenario, when it's all a laugh, when there's a drink to be had. This will be brilliant.