faderift | [open] love, love is a verb

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[open] love, love is a verb

WHO: Sina and you!
WHAT: She's awake more often and able to sit up in bed to do things. Visits will be more productive now.
WHEN: Early Drakonis
WHERE: Sina & Nari's tent in the garden
NOTES: Follow-up to this log and the direct result of this one.

The past month has been rough, and Sina has spent most of it in the Fade. Only now is she beginning to look a little more alive, able to converse and laugh without hurting herself, eating more than what Nari can manage to spoon into her mouth while she's conscious, spending her days reading tomes on magic and elvhen history from the library.
She still can't get out of bed without assistance, and the stuffiness of the sick tent is wearing on her. Sina is pale and thin, a shadow of herself, with bags under her eyes and protruding bones. She still smiles easily, however, and is grateful for company and news of outside goings-on.

She will get better. She is getting better. But it will take time.

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An expression of relief breaks out over his face as she looks up, not only awake but smiling. He ducks inside, hurrying over to the side of the bed and looking over her with blatant worry.

"Oh yes, cold; cold as anything," he assures her. "But what happened? I heard the most awfullest things - about a rift, a rift right here in Skyhold, and then they said it was you, and then you didn't wake for the longest time. I couldn't eat I was so worried!" Not quite true, but he had been eating far less than usual, and enjoying what he did eat not at all.

Sina reaches out a hand to beckon him closer, angling herself towards him when he approaches. Her smile drifts when he mentions the rift, but Sam being a rifter and going about it as amiably as he is, she doesn't mind talking about it.
"I opened one," she says quietly, "on accident. While practicing a spell." This isn't the proudest moment of her life, but might as well be honest.
"I've been in bed for... over a month. But I'm just glad no one else was hurt."

He moves in close, positioning himself so that she doesn't have to strain to see him, and though he listens attentively as she explains, his expression remains kindly and open.

"Oh, Miss Sina..." he breathes, shaking his head. "It's a rotten mess, and no mistake! But you're awake now, and that's what matters. You - you are better now, aren't you?" he adds, looking her over anxiously. Surely she couldn't stay in bed forever?

Naturally touched by his concern, Sina smiles gently at him, her brow knitting as though she's worried for him instead. She hates to make people fret, even if it is sweet of him.
"I'm..." she begins, and tries to find a positive spin to put on her situation. "...better, yes." Her smile becomes uncertain. "I'm awake more now."

He picks up on her hesitation, but gives her a reassuring smile in return. She's better than she was, anyhow, and that's something.

"That's the first step, isn't it?" he says encouragingly. "Where there's life there's hope, as my old gaffer used to say. Why Mr. Frodo slept for weeks too, when he got hurt on the way to Rivendell; but all it took was time. A month or two later and you'd never have known he was poorly off at all, and I'm sure we'll all be saying the same about you!"

Her smile broadens, and she settles in a bit, watching Sam fondly. Somehow, just listening to him talk is enough to bolster her spirits.
"You've mentioned Mr. Frodo and your... 'gaffer' before," she says, her eyes alight with interest, "will you tell me about them?"

"Oh...oh I suppose I could," Sam answers, surprised. For all his love of Elvish tales, it still seems strange to him that any Elf should want to hear his own stories in return. But if it makes Sina happy - and it certainly seems to, from her eager, hopeful expression - he wouldn't dream of turning her down.

"Well my gaffer, that's just another word for...for my da, as you might say," he explains. "That's who I live...who I lived with, back home in the Shire, him and my mum. And my brothers and sisters of course: Hamson, Hal, Daisy, May, and little Marigold." He lists the names with a touch of pride, and not a little wistfulness. "We grew up all of us in a hole on Bagshot Row in Hobbiton, just under the Hill..."

His story is long and rambling and not especially exciting, but he tells it with enthusiasm and affection, glancing frequently to Sina in case she should become bored, or want him to stop.

On the contrary, Sina isn't bored. Sometimes it's nice to hear about lives that are different from hers, and all his talk of family and greenery and blue skies has her pining for her own home back in the Free Marches.

"It sounds like a wonderful place," she says quietly, once he's paused long enough, "...I'm sorry you have to be here instead." They both do. But that's one of the things she likes about Sam; despite being not only a different race, but from an entirely different realm of existence, he feels a bit like home.

Sam sobers, glancing down at his lap.

"It is," he says, "and I...I miss it awfully." He's wished himself more than once that he could go home, and he still does more often than not. Mr. Frodo needs him, after all, and he misses the Shire every day.

But he thinks of his conversation with Twisted Fate in the Emprise, and of all the work they'd done in the garden, and of Sina herself. He's seen a lot of bad things here, or at least heard of them, and a part of him wishes he'd never had to, that he'd stayed safe and unknowing back home...but there are good things here, too, things he might never have known of.

He glances up at Sina, smiling shyly. "But if I'd stayed home, and never have come here, why, then I'd've never met you."

This wasn't the answer Sina expected, and it takes her by surprise. Though she blinks a few times in the wake of Sam's candor, her smile isn't long to follow. In fact, her eyes begin to tear up as well, and she reaches for his hand.
"I'm so lucky you're here," she says weakly, but with complete sincerity.

Sam blushes and ducks his head, shaking it firmly even as he gently grasps Sina's hand in return.

"I haven't done anything," he says in denial. "I wasn't even here when you - well, when things all went wrong." He falls silent, looking at Sina, troubled. "Isn't there anything I can do to help? Are you hungry? Or thirsty, perhaps?" There has to be something, some small way. He should have been here from the start, but, well, he wasn't, and there's naught he can do about it now.

"You've done so much," she corrects him, squeezing his hand, "and I'm glad you weren't here, because you would have been hurt too." Church's visit has already proven that the fewer Rifters who were here at the time, the better.
"You can help me by telling me what the garden looks like today."

"The garden?" He's surprised at the request, his expression growing thoughtful as he pictures it. "Oh, you should see it! It'll be spring soon, and the flowers will be in blossom. And the birds will be nesting in the trees." He gives her an encouraging smile. "By the time you're up and about again, I reckon we'll be eating the first of the summer strawberries."

Sina nods, pleased by this. She gazes thoughtfully at the tents ceiling while Sam speaks, biting her lower lip gently. "The flowers we've put everywhere won't be too impressive yet," she mused, then shifted her eyes conspiratorially towards him. "...but in a year or so..."

Sam smiles, wide and warm and hopeful.

"Yes, in a year or so," he agrees. And then his smile falters. Will he still be here in a year or so? He's been here so long already...and while there's been no sign of any way to get back home in all that time, he still hasn't stopped hoping.

He smiles again, though it's weaker this time, more for Sina's benefit than his own.

"But I've talked your ear off long enough! I should leave you be so you can catch a bit of rest."

Seeing how his smile falters, Sina's does as well. A year is a long time. She herself isn't certain she'll still be here, but unlike Sam, the alternative is what she dreads.

"You've done no such thing," Sina insists, her smile returning, similarly weaker. "See? Pointy as ever." She takes the tip of one between her finger and thumb and gives it a little tug. "But I won't keep you. Thank you for coming to see me, Sam."

His eyes open wide, and he laughs, surprised and pleased at the joke. "So they are," he says happily. "And very fine ears they are too."

A bit flustered now, and taken aback at his own boldness, he hesitates for a moment, and then leans forward quickly to drop a light kiss onto Sina's cheek. He pulls away just as quickly, the tips of his own ears bright red now, and bobs his head in a short bow, not quite meeting her eyes.

"Rest - rest up now," he stutters, half mumbling. "I'll - I'll - " But his words fail him, and he rushes out of the tent without a backwards glance.

When Sam hesitates, Sina tilts her head in an odd look-- did she say something wrong?-- but then he answers the question by kissing her cheek. It's a harmless gesture in and of itself, one she's performed many a time, but she can't help but notice the shade of his ears and the haste of his departure, and a small blush rises on her own pale cheeks. Did he just...?

"...I will," she says to the empty space where he stood, confused and bewildered, but still smiling. What even.

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[open] love, love is a verb

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