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WHO: Anders and You*! (*unless you are someone who will turn him in. ONE DAY THERE WILL BE CR. /reaches sadly)
WHAT: Detlef going about his days, helping out, being argumentative, everything
WHEN: Mid-Wintermarch
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Probably nothing? I'll edit if that changes

Healing tents

Anders is found in these most often during the day. Everything's easier when he works, really, when he and Justice can both be on the same page. They're doing good. They're furthering the cause of mage freedom. And more importantly, no one is being hurt. Are you a patient? He's probably checking you over before getting to work. Co-worker? Hand him the elfroot salve, please? Or just drop by and find him where he's most willing to be chatty as he works.

Garden

There's nothing like seeing a mage seemingly talking to a tree. Considering previous events, it's probably a little worrying. But upon closer approach one can see that there's a terrified cat clinging to a very small branch that's just barely supporting its weight, and they can hear the mage trying to talk the cat down as if the cat can understand anything that's being said.

"You can do it. Just step... Come on. A little lower. Please?"

Just outside Skyhold

There's a garden inside the walls. It has plenty of things growing in it, including basically everything Anders is looking for. It's hard for him to stay inside the walls for too long, though. He needs to be outside, to wander some, to remind himself that the walls aren't keeping him in. While it isn't the healthiest method of coping, there are certainly worse ways to go about it.

Anyone running into him out here gets a look that's a mix of surprised and bashful - the latter due to him not really having any way to explain why he's out here with a handful of easy-to-get herbs in hand.

Library

He's seated in the Library, head buried in a book the way it never was when he was at the Circle, with a pair of large tomes next to him. They're probably not that surprising for a spirit healer, treatises on spirits and their nature, but he doesn't look pleased. And he isn't. He's not finding anything that will help with his situation, and Anders is aware that he might not have a lot of time left for the looking.

Approaches from strangers get a glance up and a nod, before he'll ask if they need to get to something past him. Known people get asked a little absently how their day is going before he turns another page.

[Or] Alternately, he's curled up off to the side, on the ground, paging through a book on obscure magic that talks about various rumored spells that the author doubts really exist. His attention is primarily on the shapeshifting portion, and he looks a little wistful. Anyone approaching who glances at the book get a half-smile and asked if it wouldn't be fun, being able to transform into animals.

Wildcard

[Hit him up wherever? He grabs food in the kitchens on the go, sometimes is at the tavern in a corner near the back, sits on the walls and looks out sometimes, surreptitiously feeds the stray cats around skyhold (and scolds any dogs that try to take the food,) and may, every now and then, see if he can zap armor in just the right way so straw and fabric and all sorts of things stick to it.]

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How is he supposed to explain?

That's the question that's held him back from bringing up the Spire with Adelaide despite seeing her daily, but eventually it gets to the point where he needs to ask. It really isn't like he and Justice can continue as they are, after all.

When he finally gets to it during tea, he's a little tense. He's been a little tense the whole time, which means she might know something's up. "Did you..." Anders trails off and sighs before shaking his head. "I've a couple of questions about people in the Spire, but I know that might be a sensitive topic. If you don't want to talk about any of it, I'll understand."

Justice won't, but he's never truly understood grief and suffering.

They've been dancing around something all morning- he'd been distracted during lessons enough that his usual lines had felt more obligatory than teasingly sincere. That had been odd enough- that he's so tense in her tent afterward when he's long since stopped sitting while wound to the point of fretting? Something is wrong.

When he finally asks it's something of a relief. "That...depends entirely upon what it is you wish to ask, Detlef."

The Spire held many mages, many templars, and now? Many dead. It isn't something she cares to think on often but if it is important? She can remove herself from the pain and the fear of that night well enough to answer.

Even when given an opening it's still difficult to talk. Anders doesn't want to lie more than is necessary, and being evasive is going to tell her something's up. He'll just... move forward, muddle through it. Like he always does.

"There are two people who were there who helped a... a friend. Rhys, a mage, and Evangeline, a Templar. Did you know them? Do you know what sort of magic he specialized in?" Can he even call Cole a friend? Friendly, certainly. At least Cole knows what he is and doesn't fear him for it.

"Rhys? He was a Spirit Healer of great skill." That much she knows for certain. "We had different mentors and were never sent out together- they did not like having many spirit mages interacting at any given moment and at the end of it all...we weren't allowed out of our rooms for anything other than meals."

It'd been terrifying in no small way, the weeks leading up to that final, damning meeting. Her hands are carefully still in her lap, tea set aside for the moment. "Evangeline is a name that sounds familiar, but I do not recall anything of her."

A spirit healer. Of course. He feels a little dumb for not guessing it, but with this he can't really afford to make any assumptions. He also can't afford to give into the flare of emotions that comes from how easily mages are locked into rooms and sectioned off, treated like nothing more th--can't afford it. Cannot, and he repeats that thought forcefully.

"She may not have been as crucial, with him being a spirit healer," he says quietly, half to himself. Could that be the real key here? A friend who is a spirit healer? Or is there something else to it? "Is there anyone else here in Skyhold who you think would have known him? Or is there anything else you can recall about him?"

She lurks here often, near her brother's side or off to the corner, listening to those who pass through. The Veil reflects their thoughts, an echo she can hear overlapping, layering one on top of another. Often a cacaphony.

Anders is polyphonic, sometimes in harmony. Sometimes just slightly out of tune. But the resonance draws attention. So she watches him while he works, since she rarely has anywhere else to be. Simon wants her close at hand, especially with the new potions he wants to test. To see if they cure her.

The noise is softer, but she still stares at its source, from her little nook inside the tent. If she's out of the way, they don't tend to complain about her being underfoot.

He knows when he's being watched, practice from years of trying to stay away from people who always kept catching him again. Slightly wary, he looks around to spot a girl who is frequently at the tents. Normally she's with Simon when he's seen her, but a glance around doesn't spot him. No matter.

Anders finishes crushing the herb he'd been working with before looking directly at her. "Did you need something? I'd offer to do a jig but there's no music." The noise from being a Warden doesn't count. It's not the Calling, he doesn't need to dance to it.

"None of my students knew him." Her voice levels out from it's usual rise and lilt- not becoming clipped but not as warm as it might be either. On the beginning threads of formal if only to allow herself the distance thinking of that time requires. "I cannot speak for any of the other mages that survived the Spire. We do not exactly sit and have tea and reminisce about the situation. Most of us would rather forget and rebuild."

Maker knows that is her preference.

"He was a Spirit Healer, he lived, studied, and did his research and courses on a different floor. Aside from the odd exchange of notes when our research would align, which was not often and most of those were read over by-" Unger. By Unger. "A templar."

They're getting into territory she doesn't want to delve into - her tone backs up her words and he sighs. It isn't like he wants to reminisce about his time in the Circle either, so he can't blame her. All the same, to possibly be this close to finding help and then hit a wall...

Anders gets up, pacing, looking more at his teacup than anything else. Cole doesn't know about asking them for help, Adelaide doesn't know anything more than specialty, and he's been warned about speaking with Vivienne. He shouldn't have let himself hope at all, but despite how it never works out he'd done it anyway.

"Right. I'm sorry." He realizes how this must look a second after he speaks and drops back into his chair. "I won't ask you to think back on it any longer."

But if it only takes a friendly spirit healer, not Rhys in particular, he's got one right here. One who has no idea of who she'd be helping, forget the fact that she's given no indication of feeling something abnormal from Justice. How does he start that conversation, though, and is there any way to keep some of what he is back if he starts it?

At least there's one clear thing he and Justice agree on - they can't continue like this indefinitely.

"Have you ever tried to help a spirit, or felt if there was something amiss with one?" That's not the worst start, he thinks and hopes.

She tips her head, considering for a moment. "Too many variables. The music in the stone is old and soft, but there are too many threading together. Makes it noisy enough without dancing." Her tongue darts over her lips before she peels out of the corner and inches a little closer.

She looks intently at his work now, the grind of the mortar and pestle, the grip of his fingers.

Well. That's... something. She's no Dwarf, so he's not sure what the music in the stone is... His expression gets a little puzzled as he takes another herb section and starts to work on it. Deep roads? Is she a Warden? Is it getting to her more than it has been him? Anything's possible, and he's wondered sometimes if Justice is helping him with the sound.

"So no show from me, then," is all he says on that. If there's something else going on and she's mentally damaged, it would explain why Simon has her at the tents so often as well as mean that calling attention to how confused he is would be rude. Talking about what he's doing it is.

"I'm working on a salve for the horses. Or any animal that has to walk in snow, but generally those that carry burdens. Something healing and insulating. The roads are cold, this time of year, and they're never gentle. Would you like to help?"

She's watching what he's doing, after all. Anders nods toward the shelf where a few more mortar and pestles sit.

If she'd been at all uncertain before as to Detlef's agitation, the pacing cinches it. There is something he wishes to know, something he is compelled to know- and she cannot recall enough of Rhys or this Evangeline to be of assistance. They were in the same Circle, to be certain, but she hadn't had a great many peers on the other floors. Her work was her own, her students her own, her mentors her own.

Everything neatly compartmentalized for better control.

A subtle tension winds its way through her shoulders the longer he paces- the tent not so large a space that he has far to go in either direction. One of them needs to keep a level head and for the first time in a fair while when faced with such a situation- she's genuinely tired of having to be that person. But- she breathes. Sips her tea. Locks it away. "There is nothing more that I know."

She won't apologize for it. The Spire had been what it had been. She had no hand in their association or lack thereof.

"Not as often since I have narrowed my focus to healing specifically. Compassion once could feel when one of their fellows was unwell or agitated. With the shift of our combined focus from a general sense of pain and distress to the physical so I might be a more precise healer; it has become more difficult. I would have to know what it is we are looking to mend." That is what Compassion does. Their purpose.

Not in the way then. She looks a little surprised by the offer but threads her lower lip through her teeth and nods, inching closer still.

There's a quick moment of study -- component he's looking for increases circulation -- before she reaches for a jar with delicate fingers. Careful but swift, she reaches for the tongs sitting nearby. Elfroot you could touch with bare fingers, but this one? Better not to. Especially if you were prone to rubbing your eyes.

It's clear from the way she assembles the ingredients that she was watching him very closely.

"You've always been clear about your... precision." His voice is a little tired, the joke delivery isn't great, but it's offered anyway. It's not her fault she doesn't know Rhys, and not her fault she doesn't sense anything wrong about Justice. No one else has, though he hasn't run into many Spirit Healers since the merge.

The question now is if he tells her something about what's going on and asks her to help.

Anders looks over at her as he considers. She's a little tense already, and he's he's prodded where he shouldn't have. Maybe he should just let the topic pass. It isn't like he has so many friends that he can risk losing them all again, and he likes spending time with her.

"I'm sorry," he says again. "There's a spirit that's been unwell for some time, and I thought I had a lead on how to help. I can get... focused, some times." It's the mildest way to explain it, really.

"Fixated." She corrects without missing a beat. "I know the feeling well."

She's fallen into that herself more and more often as of late- it is far easier to fixate on something, anything, other than her own ghosts, her own wounds. Time is all that can mend it; otherwise she'd have made herself better already.

But this? This she might manage. It's far better than attempting to sort out the best way to shake off Unger's grip.

"Define 'unwell' and we shall go from there, yes? Perhaps a fresh perspective might be of assistance. I have not often given aide to unwell spirits and it has been...at least a decade since I attempted it last; but if I know what we are looking for and who needs our help that will make it easier."

She's quiet, and there's a... smallness to her that doesn't really have anything to do with size. It's the way she tends to stay back and moves so quickly once she's joined him, and the way she'd clearly studied what he's been doing. Maybe he's not as good at noticing someone watching him as he'd thought, and Anders raises an eyebrow at her.

"Have you made anything with Simon before?" It's as decent a question as any other, and Anders isn't that great at working in silence when there are others around.

Fixated is the proper word, and his lips quirk upward at the correction for just a moment. He's fixated a great deal, as has the spirit. And now there's an offer of at least trying to help to focus on.

Anders takes a breath as he looks at her. "It's a little complicated. As so many things with spirits are." She knows that as well as he does, but he's trying to buy time and realizing there's nothing to really buy here. If she's going to help, she has to know. The thought of sharing what he is is a little terrifying, though.

"It's Justice." That alone will explain why it concerns him so much. "I've been angry for a, a very long time about the injustices I've faced and so many mages I know have faced. I believe I may have harmed him with it." She's a Spirit Healer; she can put anger and Justice together and get Vengeance. And avoiding outright calling Justice a demon means he doesn't risk Justice taking control.

"There's another aspect to it too, but that's the heart of the problem."

At first, she was browsing her usual section, rotating in her most recently read books, looking to see if anyone had brought in anything new.

Then she bumps into someone.
"Oh, were you wanting some of these too?"

It takes her just a few seconds before she really registers the face, and all but bursts into laughter.
"You have got to be joking."

"You are dithering. It isn't attractive." Does he wish for her help or not? Stalling for time does not help him, the spirit, or her better understand what it is he needs.

Not wants- what he wants is irrelevant for the moment. What he needs is where they ought to turn their focus.

Apparently he needs to end a negative feedback loop of fixation, anger, and the slow crawl from a frustrated spirit to demon. She has read of this once before but- not with Justice. Compassion that became Desire or rather came frightfully close to it before they were made to forget. It is the best and simplest answer; but when paired with a spirit healer? It is more difficult to manage. That level of interaction to the point that it might taint the spirit- that it would double back on the mage...

"Justice does not care to forget, does he?" Compassion did if only to keep themselves safe. To offer that distance they need as to not burrow into her skin and be lost. "I cannot offer a cure to an illness unless I know all the symptoms. What more than anger?"

In his part, Twisted Fate had been spending his time in the library scouring for any potential novels he hasn't discovered yet. Harrison Porter & the Blessed Urn wasn't really up to his preferences, but he's finding himself lacking in anything else that interests him.

Some people use the library for research, but he likes his tales.

The elf comes across the other mage, and raises a brow at him. "And what are you desperately researching today, hm?"

He's about to say he's fine, that he's read better porn in the diaries of Chantry sisters, when he recognizes her right back. And then the moment for the joke is lost because she's laughing and all he can do is stare. That's... Well, maybe it's exactly what he should expect as a reaction from her.

Despite himself, there's a faint smile on his lips as he tries to shush her, glancing around nervously.

"The last thing I need is a lot of people coming to see why you're falling over laughing, Bela."

She shakes her head. "Sometimes...I hear what's aching in them. Hurts he might not see with eyes. But he needs to concentrate. Harder when he's watching me."

The pestle gripped, she starts to grind. Careful, methodical motions. Mimicking what she's seen. She picks things up quickly enough, even after only a few moments of observation.

"I wouldn't exactly call it desperate." ...Okay, maybe it is a little desperate. If things go wrong, it would be nice to have a new method of escaping.

Anders shifts forward so Twisted Fate can see the book a little better.

"I've been curious about shapeshifting for some time. I know it's possible. But I've no idea where to start with actually learning it, so I thought I'd start with a book." There's a beat. "It hasn't exactly been useful so far."

Christine sends a patient on their way, watching them go with a bit of a smile. The longer the mage healers work here in Skyhold, the more people are coming around to the idea of being healed with magic. It's a good feeling, knowing trust is growing with people. Of course, that trust can shatter at any time, but that makes her savor it now all the more.

Turning back, she walks over towards a table and shelf, putting away jars and potions bottles. Looking around, she spots that spirit healer Adelaide's mentioned to her.

"Pardon, but do you have the elfroot salve near you?"

"Oh, blame it on the books. Have you read some of these? Comedy gold, really," she says with a smirk.

Her gaze rakes him once. There are things she wants to ask. Other things she's not sure she should. And the wrong kind of question might have meanings she's not willing to give just yet.
"Not sure that's the look I would have gone with, but that's just me. Is your friend still around? You know, the stick-in-the-mud?"

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For Adelaide

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Healing Tents

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Library, because the idea amuses me.

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Library

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Healer tents

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