Pel (
mythalenaste) wrote in
faderift2016-04-01 09:27 pm
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Entry tags:
CLOSED - So here I stumble home to you to find the words to use
WHO: Pel, Anders, and Cyril.
WHAT: The turmoil in Skyhold causes an elf to suffer the consequences.
WHEN: Present, evening
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: TW: Violence. Someone is attacked and beaten. This is not within public knowledge yet.
WHAT: The turmoil in Skyhold causes an elf to suffer the consequences.
WHEN: Present, evening
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: TW: Violence. Someone is attacked and beaten. This is not within public knowledge yet.
The worst thing is that she could have been fighting the entire time. Maybe. If she'd just...thought about it. It's not that she couldn't do anything, it's that she didn't.
He grabbed her from behind and slammed her against a wall. Twice. Then he flipped her around and started hitting her while she didn't even make a sound. Screaming has been conditioned out of her since she can remember. It draws unwanted attention. Human attention. If she had screamed, she could have brought more attackers to the fold. Creators forbid she had used magic against him, or he could have claimed he was defending himself. But there must have been something she could have done.
It was the man's commanding officer who tackled him and brought him down, allowing her to escape. She fade-stepped as far away as she could, then stumbled in the direction of the healing tents. In the gloaming, nobody could see how hurt she was, nor how shaken. There was only one tent she could go to.
Anders' tent has less traffic than it once had, and is unoccupied now but for the healer himself. It's the safest, most private place for her to go for healing. She's not thinking about...well, much of anything, but certainly not her own life. She's oddly driven by how many people need to not know about this.
She has no idea how she looks. Not so very bad, compared to how she'll look when the bruising and swelling catches up. There's pain, but she barely knows it. Hard to breathe, but she's not sure if it's adrenaline or something else. Something for certain is that there is blood running down from her forehead, from her lip, welling into abrasions on the side of her face.
Knees buckle as she arrives, and she sits down hard on the floor of the tent, eyes glassy.
"I'm actually fine," she announces in a voice that is strangely calm, but for a tremor that almost sounds like bleating.
no subject
An involuntary shudder causes her to cry out in pain. The fracture in her clavicle has been incredibly painful, but she's only now becoming aware of it. The veil between her and the rest of the world is still obscuring everything else.
"Iss fine," she slurs, mouth too badly beaten to enunciate properly. She pauses, swallows, and tries again, more slowly. "The garden is fine. Sina...someone needs to make sure Sina's all right. He attacked b'cause...he said... Is Nahariel guarding Sina? No wait--he was taken away already. I promise I can...be coherent if I try. I'm just thinking."
no subject
"Drink this," he says gently, holding the potion up to her lips. "It's going to ease the pain." A guard taken away? The name sounds Dalish, too. Does this have anything to do with the claims of another elf being locked up? ...He can't afford to get worked up on this. Adelaide had been right, and they need to focus on the elf in front of them.
Once she's had a sip he can resume work, making sure no bone fragments get away, starting to work on the other injuries as he can divide his attention. The nose is the next project, once the potion's had the short time it needs to start working.
no subject
"Listen," she whispers, finally having thought through what she needs to communicate. "The man who attacked me was dragged off by a superior. I heard something about him being put in a cell. If it gets out that an Inquisition soldier attacked an elf mage for being an elf mage, my people will go mad. Even though he was stopped by the Inquisition's people. This has to be kept secret."
no subject
Anders takes a slow breath, closing his eyes for a moment before he nods. Let Justice rail all he wants. Anders will avoid sleeping with anyone for a few days, get up earlier, all the little things that the spirit wants, and Justice will settle down, be appeased. More or less.
"All right," he finally says before reopening his eyes. "I'll tell no one." He won't even ask for a name that would lead to that man potentially never touching a mage again. "But let me heal you, and tell me you'll rest after. Here, or somewhere safe, where he can't find you again or you've someone to watch your back."
The breaks are mended; he starts to work on the lesser injuries. The man had done a number on her, and he could only hope the man soon met a bear. Or ten.
no subject
"His captain, I think, tackled him right off me. I'm the one who escaped, not him. But I get what you mean. I'll find my cousin."
no subject
Scalp and lip are more surface injuries than anything else, but they often carry a mental weight so they're next. He grabs a clean cloth to dab away the blood once the scalp wound is closed, confirming with his eyes that it's gone, before finishing with her lip.
"You've still more than a few bruises and scrapes. They tend to take more time to mend, which is not a problem for me. I've the time. But I want to know if you feel secure enough here for the healing."
Anyone could come into the tents, and if she's trying to avoid people knowing, then this isn't the best place.