Entry tags:
wisely and slow, they stumble that run fast
WHO: Herian & others; starters to be added
WHAT: An injured Knight-Enchanter returns to Kirkwall after close to two years up in Skyhold with the Inquisition.
WHEN: the next couple weeks, maybe longer?
WHERE: Infirmary
NOTES: Gross injury stuff, Herian's eternal angst bucket existence
I am starting off with a couple of closed starters at the moment, and I'll add open ones once I am less of a lost baby lamb. (Or if you'd like a custom starter totally pm me and we can figure that one out!)
WHAT: An injured Knight-Enchanter returns to Kirkwall after close to two years up in Skyhold with the Inquisition.
WHEN: the next couple weeks, maybe longer?
WHERE: Infirmary
NOTES: Gross injury stuff, Herian's eternal angst bucket existence
I am starting off with a couple of closed starters at the moment, and I'll add open ones once I am less of a lost baby lamb. (Or if you'd like a custom starter totally pm me and we can figure that one out!)

no subject
It is a painful confirmation, that Cosima had known her only when she returned. That she had been alone in the grief of separation.
Her hand is, at least, less battered than the rest of her.
“I did not— We had spoken of marriage.” Long ago, and maybe naively. “I had no interest in— casting that aside.”
Perhaps it could be argued that it was her obstinance, the value of her honour, standing by her oaths, that resulted in that rather than love. Or, perhaps that as a Knight-Enchanter serving an Inquisition and this a Divine that wished to see Circles restored and prior laws applied to mages upheld, she simply didn’t have the same opportunity. It was not as though she could produce easy evidence of what was in her heart. Herian’s gaze is down turned.
“But please know I make no assumptions, now you are returned. You are not— bound to me, and I know I am not as you remember.”
Mostly in the sense of being severely injured, having subjected Cosima to a burst of ill-temper, and also, depressed and dramatic as fuck. Well, that last bit might be familiar.
no subject
She exhales, looking down at their hands. "It's not like I just stopped loving you. I didn't leave you on purpose. When I wrote you, I thought we might try. If it was what you wanted too, if you hadn't found someone else. I wouldn't have blamed you." So few rifters came back, there could have been no knowing Cosima ever would.
cw injury metaphors bc big mood
“I missed you.” There’s a crack in her voice that she can’t hide away, and she keeps her gaze turned down. Cowardice, now, as well as all else? It does not feel so different to a dam starting to break apart.
“You speak it true. We cannot simply resume and pretend all is as it was. There is— there is much new to learn and consider.“ Her breath shakes as she exhales, and she sighs with frustration as her lack of composure, and she stiffly wipes her eyes with the back of her other hand, facing away from Cosima as she does so. Bandages for absorbency, at least.
“Is all well at home? With Sarah and your sisters, as well?”
no subject
"Yeah, they're good. Sarah and I got a lot closer, the past few years. Oh, um, Helena had twins, so I've got two new nephews, they're cute." Quieter, she adds: "I found our cure. Finally. That's what I was doing, when I came back, I was traveling the world to get it to my other sisters. Turns out there's a lot more of us than we knew." And now they'd all have a chance at a quiet, ordinary life if they wanted it. Of course, the cure meant a lot personally, too, but she expects she doesn't need to spell that out.
no subject
“You found a cure?” Her smile brightens, despite all the other complications of this conversation, and she looks at Cosima with renewed wonder. “You are truly beyond compare, Cosima.”
She remembers that day, carrying Cosima to the infirmary when they were barely known to one another, the need for regular visits and the exhaustion it could bring. “Congratulations hardly seem sufficient.”
no subject
She rests a hand on Herian's blanket, not touching her, but a little more relaxed all the same. "Now we can get you healed up, and we'll be in great shape." Sternly, to Franklin: "No catching a cold or anything, OK?"
no subject
“He is immune to any many of sickness. The sheer force of his optimism seems to chase away any miasma or infection.”
See, she remembers some of the stuff Cosima explained to her, even if old habits are hard to shake. Her gaze is caught in Cosima, though, as Franklin shimmies forward on his belly, and rolling on his back to request pats.
“That you and your sisters can be safe and well is... a relief beyond words. You all deserve every happiness, after all the turbulence you have endured.”