faderift | Moving Day

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Moving Day

WHO: All the Wardens and whatever onlookers/helpers they may find.
WHAT: Moving Day
WHEN: Current-ish
WHERE: Skyhold and just outside Skyhold
NOTES: The Wardens are grounded. They have been told to camp outside Skyhold. So it's moving day.

It is a relatively flat and pretty utterly frozen piece of land outside Skyhold that the Wardens have found. Since there are only a couple dozen of them, they don't need a large space, at least. There's going to be a premium on slightly more elevated spots, so it's first come first serve. Some Wardens arrive with the sun and lay claim with canvas, stakes, ropes, and poles stacked up while they go back for heavier things. Digging into the frozen ground with the stakes is rough, especially for those who brought wooden stakes instead of iron. Some will be forced to wait until the sun softens things a bit. Some are chasing away the feeling of eviction by making themselves at home, starting fires in pits, or making light of their work through periodic bouts of horseplay. For example, one large longbowman with a wounded right arm, fed up with teasing for his inability to do heavy lifting, carries with his left arm a blond mage who hits him repeatedly with a pillow. Unperturbed, he continues on.

But when the tents are pitched and the sun is down, the cozy camp is a little less strange. People will gather around fires for warmth and companionship, knowing that after one sleep, this will start to feel like home.

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"I have cots for everyone!" Nathaniel announces. "A man at Skyhold set them aside for us. If you want one, you'll have to help me carry them down."

His right arm is still in a sling, but he still has a good back and legs, and a good left arm. His tasks are one-handed, but he's still pitching in where he can.

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At night, he sits and smokes his pipe by the fire, feeling oddly at ease under the frozen stars. He'd felt like a squatter in Skyhold, crowded by people, utterly at the mercy of the Inquisition. Now it's just the Wardens, and it feels good. Allied, but separate. As it should be.

Closed to Anders

Anders is a little tall to be doing this with, but as long as it's working, Nate will do it. The pillow has him suppressing laughter, reminded of his vicious pillow-wrestling with Delilah when they were children. It's fun to have the last laugh with the mage at last.

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"Sounds fair enough." Bethany stated, as she went to grab one cot and then lifting her staff to float another behind her. She looked over at Nathaniel, her mouth twisting slightly.

"And my guilt is heavy enough to carry all of these, if you really want."

He gives her a disgruntled look. Thinks.

"I'll settle for a good, dry firepit. No need for you to serve the entire camp."

She gives him another wan smile - she is trying to get back into his good graces after all.

"All right, I can definitely manage that." She thinks, "Should be stones aplenty in the riverbed."

"Don't bother with stones. Just get to digging and drying."

"Well, that I can do ... " She hummed as she came close to the campsite, switching her staff out. She lifted it up, concentrating her magic on the ground in front of them. "How big?"

"The size of a fire pit," Nathaniel says dourly, drawing an outline with the toe of his boot.

Bethany arched an eyebrow at him, before her mouth twisted slightly as she lifted her staff up to the sky. "One fire pit sized fire pit, then."

She shifted her hands, in front of her, concentration deepening the lines around her mouth as she focused her spell around the area that Nathaniel had so kindly outlined with his foot. It was harder to concentrate force magic on such a concentrated area, and not just ... blow it apart. A bowl sized indentation became to form where she focused her magic, the sides moving out, sliding out of hole in frozen chunks and clods.

He can't help but smile a little at her quip, before remembering he's angry with her. He watches her work in silence for a moment, ruminating on that anger, before he finally blurts out:

"It could've been you who was hit."

Her concentration did not shift, as dirt continued to snake out of the hole, but her lips did press together a little more before she stated simply.

"I know I made a stupid mistake, Nathaniel ... and I feel worse about it that you were hurt because of it." She shifted her grip slightly, sighing as she deepened the hole slightly.

"...but I never intended to worry you about my own safety. For that, I am truly sorry." She let her hand drop, letting the soil fall out of the pit, as she turned to look at him somberly.

"I don't...this, my arm, I'll be right as rain in a couple of months. I'm not angry about it."

He's giving her those little squinty blinks he sometimes gives when he should get misty-eyed instead. He approaches her and wraps his arms around her.

"I don't want to think about losing you."

She bites her lip for a long moment, before she lowers her gaze to the ground. He wasn't mad at her for his arm - he was mad because she could have gotten hurt. Bethany, sometimes you are an utter twit.

She wraps her arms around him tightly, pressing her face down into his shoulder as she murmurs, "I can't think about losing you, either. So ... if I promise to work out strategy beforehand, would you please not get caught in another spell that could rip you in half?"

He touches his cheek to her hair, like if he envelops her enough he can raise a wall around her.

"Sounds fair," he allows with a breathy chuckle.

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He stops hitting Nate with the pillow eventually, surrendering... but not because he's lost. It's a two-fold thing. One part is sudden self-consciousness and recalling the circumstances of why they're even moving - this is his fault. The other is because he can potentially be slightly more effective with words.

"You can't carry any of the heavy gear, but you can carry me? If you tear something and undo all of the hard work I've already done, I'll have my revenge."

Nathaniel gives a grunt and eases Anders back to his feet. He cannot, after all, do that forever, and he's sure Anders has a point.

"You were being a brat," he points out lamely, trying to keep things light.

"I was? Me. The one doing most of the carrying for the both of us. Are you sure you've the right person?" The teasing isn't as strong as it could be, but at least his voice is nearly right for it. No one's swung at him yet today or yelled. It's a good day.

Nathaniel quickly reaches to grapple Anders again, but keeps it just slow enough that Anders can avoid it.

He doesn't dodge, because he's got a slightly better defense planned - the second Nate touches him, Anders will be casting and giving the man a jolt of lightning. It's not powerful, barely a step up from the vaunted 'electricity trick,' but it'll be enough to be felt.

Nathaniel starts away immediately. It wasn't painful, but he definitely felt that. It takes him a second to figure out what happened, eyes narrowing in suspicion. Then, he gives a loud psh and almost gives Anders a dope slap--only to remember that beating on a mage isn't like beating on any other brother- or sister-in-arms. Especially Circle mages. He settles for a barbed word.

"Brat."

Okay, not that barbed.

There's the faintest hint of smugness in Anders' eyes, though its strength is diminished momentarily when Nate's hand shifts. It returns a second later as Anders shrugs.

"I believe the saying goes 'takes one to know one,' so if I'm a brat..." He trails off, letting Nate reach the natural end of that sentence mentally, before nodding at the small area they'd chosen to set up their tent. "If I work on thawing where we could use a drainage ditch, are you up to digging that? Or will you need a nest of pillows to lounge upon and chilled drinks?"

"It's up to you, healer. I'd need both arms to dig." In other words, no. "I can hold the shovel and look ruggedly and stoically handsome."

"Please. You'd need both arms if you were using a shovel. Last I checked you had hands." Despite the teasing, he glances around. Nate's never struck him as lazy, which means being left out of setting up camp might be a little demoralizing and Anders prefers for his patients to have some outlets. Not much presents itself as an option, though.

"But if you insist on using the injured card, then you can at least help sweep the little area so we're not sleeping on rocks."

Nathaniel perks up a bit. He finds a broom and starts to work, kicking the larger rocks out of the way and sweeping the rest clear of snow and rubble.

"Did you see the cots we brought in? Should keep the ground from softening too much from the heat."

"And lessen the chances of me having to treat regular illness. The ground leeches heat from bodies like nothing else."

Anders focuses on what he's doing, creating careful lines of fire where the drainage ditch is going to be so the earth is easier to move in a few minutes here.

"Not only that, they're better than the cot I had in Darktown." And better than sleeping on the ground in his bedroll. They're a definite improvement. Hopefully Purrelden will agree, and still decide to climb from Anders' to Nate's to land on the archer's face in the mornings. It brought Anders a tiny bit of joy every time it happened.

"Anything is better than a cot in Darktown. Probably fleas the size of cockroaches in the one you had." Noble upbringing shows in him at times like this.