Tell me a story long and true

[lettersfromhome]

WHO: Mia Rutherford and OPEN
WHAT: So much to do, so little time. Bustling around Skyhold.
WHEN: Wintermarch. Feel free to fudge the dates as needed.
WHERE: All over the bloody keep.
NOTES: n/a

The weeks press on. The world looks to the Inquisition to see what happens next, the mages and templars struggle to prove their independence and their willingness to work towards the greater good, and a calm finally seems to have settled over the keep in the wake of the abomination attack. Personal trials seem almost trivial in comparison.

Almost. She's still noticeably avoiding Pel, and stiffly departing if the woman ever comes around.

But there's more to be dealt with than one sour encounter. She drops in on Cullen from time to time now, a little less concerned with keeping her distance than she is with how well he's dealing with the lyrium-induced headaches. She visits Katniss soon after hearing about the unfortunate scuffle with one of the soldiers, though part of her is pleased that she's holding her own. There are care packages to be made up and delivered to various families and individuals within Skyhold -- herbs for the healers from the travelers and scouts, and sometimes cookies for the children -- and all in all life is as busy as it should be.

Better than sitting at home in South Reach and fretting, with no one to tend to. Though what must it say about her that she only feels at ease when she's seeing to someone else's needs? Likely nothing she wants to hear, admittedly.

Comments

if this... works....

[lacere]

"Mistress Rutherford?"

It's more to get her attention; Harding knows who she is. She's prone to bustling herself, always busy, always working, but she does hear things from her scouts, and its polite to give a heads up seeing as, y'know, she's here in the courtyard, Mia's here in the courtyard too.

"The scouts are back. They'll probably be coming this way soon with the herbs you wanted."

[lettersfromhome]

"Ah." There's a relieved noise as she straightens, dusting off her hands. "Maker bless them. We've not run short yet, and I'd just as soon that stayed the case without wandering down to the swamps myself."

She looks a tad more harried than usual, blond curls falling loose about her face, but she hasn't seemed to notice. She still seems composed, despite the slight dishevelment.

"Will we be needing to take any to the soldiers, once the healers have had at them?" she presses on, her gaze settling on Harding.

[lacere]

"It's not the most popular of assignments, but as long as we have what we need, the less likely they'll be sent back at short notice," Harding agrees. The scouts were often rotated on, being fleet of foot and less likely to sink into the mud. Nobody should have to go there. Mia certainly should not go there, but Harding doesn't doubt she wouldn't if it came to that.

She shakes her head to the question. "Not that I know of. Their reserves were higher last I heard, but with the winter, there's a lot of sniffling going on. They might have depleted - Cullen would have a better idea, but without going down to the camps, there's no real way of knowing."

[lettersfromhome]

"Then I'd best take a look. The Commander has other duties to see to, I'm certain. Perhaps a quick chat to get some idea..."

She trails off, almost as though speaking to herself, trying to keep track of it all in her mind. One finger taps at her chin, her eyes surveying the crates thoughtfully.

"Sniffling will get worse, come spring. All manner of things coming into the air, and the change of temperature? Only a matter of time. Still. That's no reason to neglect the stores. The little ones catch something and it could be a great deal more serious than it needs to be."

[lacere]

Harding makes a soft noise of agreement. "It'll be worse down in the valley, where there's trees. Anywhere in the Hinterlands, really. I wouldn't be surprised if Whittle would need some of what's in the stores here if the Crossroads becomes a permanent fixture, actually..."

She trails off, musing, "... never thought our fates would be decided on who has a cold that day. Sometimes we're more a large, disobedient family than a military organisation."

[onlyhymns]

Cade is on one of his eternal patrols of the battlements when he sees Mia below and ascending the stairs. He pauses to watch her a moment, then forces himself to go towards her and meet her at the top. He recognizes a fellow restless soul when he sees one.

"Lady Rutherford," he greets, with a small bow.

[lettersfromhome]

"Ser Harimann." And she does sound pleased to see him, if slightly out of breath when she reaches the top of the steps. It's excuse enough to greet him, and to draw to a halt long enough to catch her breath again. It's been quite the busy morning.

"How lovely to see you again." A glance is given off the battlements with a soft smile. "And the view hasn't changed much, has it?"

[onlyhymns]

Cade smiles a little, once again finding that it comes easily with someone like Mia. At her question, he looks around, then down, blushing sheepishly. "Not much, my lady, no," he concedes. "But one day it might." It's fortunate they have him up here making sure the sky doesn't fall into the mountains.

[lettersfromhome]

"I won't hold my breath for the mountains to move on my account."

A breath taken, she reaches up to tuck a loose lock of hair back behind her ear. In the wind, it's near impossible to keep it all neat, but she's not going to be too troubled with her looks. Never has been, really. No reason to start now.

"You've been well, I hope?"

[serannas]

Ellana is taking a break from reading in the library to enjoy the fresh air. Skyhold may be in the mountains, but the crisp air is spared from being frigid as a result of the hot springs that lie underneath. It's a beautiful day, and she is contemplating bringing her book out here to read when she finds Mia in the middle of carrying her care packages.

"Mia," she calls, jogging over to her. "Would you like some help carrying some of those?"

[lettersfromhome]

She's managed to balance quite a few in her arms, perhaps overestimating herself, as a few seem to want to tumble free despite her stubborn attempts at wrangling them. She might have told anyone else that she was fine and shouldered the burden herself, beings as it was her own miscalculation.

But she knows Ellana yearns to help as much as she does. There are some people she does not mind sharing the load with.

"One or two might be trying to leap away from me. If you could...there on the edge," she murmurs, tipping her head towards the offending packages.

[serannas]

Quickly gathering together some of the packages, Ellana smiles and arranges them in her arms.

"Where are we going with them?" she asks, not yet knowing what they contain. No matter the destination, Ellana will see them safely delivered. It's good to feel useful and contribute to the Inquisition in any way possible. It's something so much bigger than herself, yet filled with people who all have the same goal.

[lettersfromhome]

"To the lower quarters. We've had a few families arrive, and I was hoping to get these to them as soon as possible," she replies, straightening with a breath taken. Alright, that's manageable at least.

"Some just arrived from Orlais, as I understand it. It's not enough that the mage rebellion had such an effect on the landscape, but I understand there's a civil war on. And of course, it's the common folk that suffer for it."

Post-battle

[the_effect_she_has]

It was fairly notable that Katniss had a split lip and the side of her face was nicely bruised, and even more notable the tales that were told. They got wilder in the telling, so that when Katniss brought fresh meat for the refugees, the children all clambered around her to ask if she had really gotten attacked by a bear-ridden Avaar fighting for the hand of Commander Cullen.

Fifteen minutes later from setting that straight (and per her promise to Pel and Cullen, setting everyone on the right path of fighting is not good), she was carrying the skins back to Skyhold when she found Mia coming out of a tent. She crooked a smile, before going to walk next to the woman, "And a good day to you, Mia."

Yes, she might have looked like she lost a fight with a sledgehammer, but she was surprisingly ...chipper.

[lettersfromhome]

Proud as she might be of the woman for standing up for herself, she's a mess. There's a cluck of her tongue as she turns, looking over the damage with a shake of her head. "So you say," she replies, arching an eyebrow at the girl before tucking the basket of herbs primly under her arm. "Thought if you're looking to get that treated, I'm headed in the opposite direction just now."

[the_effect_she_has]

"Absolutely not. I've got a healing potion already, but that requires eight hours of sleep I'm not ready for just yet." Katniss glanced over at her, and sighed. "So you're disappointed in me as well?"

Katniss really should just go through all of her friends to get the 'You should know better!' discussions out of the way.

[lettersfromhome]

"Did I say that?"

Mia shakes her head, the corner of her mouth curling upwards.

"I'm not here to judge you, dear. I'm not even entirely sure what happened. People talk, of course, but I've had my fill of the rumor mill. I can tell you that much."

[apostasia]

If there's to be anyone criticising Mia's need for occupation, it won't be Martel - alongside her now and then, at first incidentally when his own search for some useful way to pass his time set him across her path, but with increasing purpose. Mia Rutherford scarcely seems to be aware of what 'time without useful occupation' is; when he knows there will be packages, sometimes he drops by to take them himself. Stretch his legs, familiarise himself a bit more.

Today, though, he sits; he's been working on what will be his class offered to the mages (perhaps others, later), and his shoulder aches, he's tired. Sorting through herbs to be sent on to the healers gives his idle hands something other than the devil's work, and there's no better way to get to know them than to handle them. Learn to tell them apart. Learn which go to the healers and which have other purposes.

He squints, then sniffs the elfroot.

"Ah," a moment later. "This is what I smelled smoke of."

[lettersfromhome]

A faintly amused noise follows. "It has a number of healing qualities...although added to various brews and potions, I've known some to take in other ways as well. I'm not sure if the effects differ, myself."

Mia, meanwhile, is carefully handling what looks to be rashvine from Eastern Orlais. Luckily it's already been packaged, the faintest glimpse enough to determine the herb. With a faintly disgusted noise she moved it aside to another pile. "Ugh. Dreadful stuff. I remember getting into it as a child. Some lessons, one only needs to learn once."

[apostasia]

For a man with as chequered a past as Martel isn't admitting to in Skyhold, he is capable of remarkable staidness; from the vaguely amused disapproval with which he sets the elfroot into its proper place, recreational use is not quite to his tastes. (A glass of wine, on the other hand - but he's barely touched the stuff, here.)

The rashvine gets a glance - and a grimace.

"I took a tumble into something similar, once. Not, I'm afraid, as a child." Not quite a man, either, though; his pride hurt, but the rest of him itched, and he'd handled his fellow novices' delight in his indignity with poor grace. Whose spectacular idea was it to combine male adolescence with steel weaponry and magic? Someone who'd also thought they'd be celibate as well, in fairness, but they'd found precious few men willing to promise to only ever wield the one sword and for King and God alone. That particular vow was not long for the oaths of knights.

"Which, as I think of it, makes me feel desperately old."

As do many of those in Skyhold, sometimes.

[lettersfromhome]

"Old." Mia's lips twist wryly. "There are worse things to be. Old means you've survived everything that's tried to kill you up to this point."

She's no spring chicken herself, but rarely if ever does she feel self-conscious in that regard. Who has time to? And perhaps that's part of the point.

But nevermind that now. There are still quite a few varieties of herbs to be separated, a quiet hum escaping her. "Let's see...spindleweed, blood lotus. Hm. No black lotus. Have to make a note of that."

Strolls in late

[foodsofmypeople]

Kaidan was one of those who tended to gather up herbs on his travels. A hold over from when he had to make his own potions on the go. At least there are healers that can make far better ones than he ever could, but he felt it his duty to pick some herbs whenever he got the chance. At least he could keep the place supplied rather than just take.

"Mistress Rutherford?" he asked the woman who had been pointed out to him. "I am to understand that you are gathering together herb supplies?"

[lettersfromhome]

"That's right."

She'd been scribbling something down as she went over the supplies, taking inventory and determining the best way to distribute whatever might be left. Luckily she had a head for numbers, could have easily done it on her sleep. Hearing a voice call out barely had her lifting her head.

"If you've more, we'd certainly welcome them, ser...?"

[foodsofmypeople]

Kaidan gave Mistress Rutherford a wry smile. It had been a long time since he'd been called 'Ser'. "Kaidan Alenko, mistress. Warden Kaidan Alenko. I found mostly embrium, but a little bit of Dawn Lotus as well." And Mia could guarantee they were in good condition - he knew how to take care of herbs.

[lettersfromhome]

At that, her eyes do lift up. "Warden."

Well that's what she got for paying attention, wasn't it? Almost at once she moved to stand. "Ah, forgive me. I hadn't realized...yes, that's wonderful. We could do with some more for the poultices. The healers have been running short, as of late."