Soggy But Alive

The Hand of Korth might have been a worthy warrior, but he was also an idiot.

He had no idea how to fight a mage, so why he challenged me to single combat, I couldn't imagine. He seemed to think that, like with an archer, the key was to close quickly. Among the things he didn't expect: close-range spells to paralyze and disorient, my staff functioning as an actual weapon that I could bring down on his skull while still channeling spells, and, of course, my ability to position him anywhere on the field I pleased.

He was wearing several pieces of enchanted jewelry, and there was a rune worked into his hammer. The clarity with which I could see him was almost painful.

At the last, he roared for his people to join the fight in spite of the nature of the challenge he had issued, which some did - but since Sera put an arrow in his throat the moment it became clear what was happening, I had plenty of attention to spare for positioning my own warriors to good advantage.

The remaining Avvar - the ones who had chosen to respect the rules of single combat - were somewhat sheepish after we had killed their kin, immediately offering up the key to the room where my soldiers were being held. The soldiers, thankfully, were more or less fine - a little beat up, a bit hungry and thirsty, but in good enough shape to leave, especially once we passed around a skin of water and shared out the rations we had brought along. There were a couple of sprains, and these I used magic to treat, but the other wounds they had received - cuts, stab wounds, and some significant bruising - had been tended with rough but effective care, and were either healed or almost so.

I sent Sera and Blackwall to strip the fort of any loot we could reasonably carry while I tended to our people. I hoped that we could make it all the way back across the dubious high road before darkness fell. There was plenty of solid ground beyond; we wouldn't even have to camp on another of the pillar-topped hills.

I wasn't expecting to find Sky Watcher waiting for us when we left the ruined keep.

"Your god looks after you, Herald," he greeted me.

"Not my god, but apparently the one assigned to me," I sighed.

"Sometimes gods take a liking to us whether we will or no," he agreed - perhaps commiserated? He went on before I could decide: "There lies the brat. His father, chief of our holding, would duel me for the loss - if he cares enough."

Sky Watcher sounded...offended by the possibility? Or perhaps rueful? "If you would like," I began hesitantly, "my Inquisition needs capable agents, and we're trying to both close the rifts remaining from the Breach and hold responsible the one who caused the Breach in the first place. Is that something your Lady of the Skies might look favorably on?"

I read surprise in his posture, though he was so much taller than I was that it was difficult for me to clearly read his face. "Is this why the Lady of the Skies led me here? To help heal the wounds in her skin?" He paused. "Aye," he decided, "I'll join you. Let me make peace with my kin, and I'll find one of your camps."

"I look forward to working with you," I told him.

He shouldered his great hammer and, with a final nod, turned and walked towards the outer wall. I hoped Josephine would be pleased.

My plans for travel went about as well as could reasonably be expected - which was to say that someone managed to sprain another ankle wading through some of the muck, and part of the high road collapsed, sending several of us into stinking water that was still thankfully undead-free. That misadventure resulted in a broken wrist and quite a number of new bruises - several of which were mine. I healed the ankle and put a binding spell on the wrist to immobilize it since I wasn't nearly competent enough to mend bones, and we went on.

The afternoon was descending into evening by the time we left the treacherous high road, but finding solid ground seemed to give most of us a little extra energy, and we set camp. Only one of the soldiers' tents had survived, but we had found enough skins, poles, and ropes in the ruined keep to rig cover for everyone, even if some of it was rough. My party took the roughest lot, of course, and all the watches, too - and I took the first one, since I hadn't had to take one the night before. Each of the soldiers came by at some point during the evening to thank me for coming for them personally. I think, after the first two, Sera and Bull were prodding them into it just to watch me blush.

I went looking for Solas in the Fade again when I finally went to sleep, and this time failed to find him entirely. It was fine - I told myself it was fine. Creators willing, I would be back at camp with him by early afternoon.

We finished breaking camp in the murky pre-dawn light, and set out soon after, making good time throughout the morning on the relatively firm surface of the road. The soldiers were easily tired - less fit after weeks of captivity - but eagerness to be away made up some of the difference. We took a brief pause at noon to hand around food and let everyone rest as much as they could in the ever-present rain, and then went on.

I knew the instant my bond with Solas picked back up, as I began to feel mildly queasy and generally slightly off - and even more lonely than I had a moment before, at least until recognition washed over me and I knew that he knew I was near.

A few minutes later, we passed the outermost sentries, and I wanted to hug them.

I wanted to hug Solas much more, though, and so I kept going.

It was easy enough to leave the sorting of the returning soldiers to someone else under the guise of going to find out how our primary healer was doing and what he could spare for them. Cassandra didn't even try to protest, either because she was distracted or because she knew it wouldn't do any good. I didn't really care which.

Solas was still in his tent. I brushed past Cole, who was keeping watch beside the entrance, with only a smile - and then I was there, inside, looking at his somewhat blurry form with my own eyes. In the next moment, I was knocking him back from his seated position into the blankets of his bedroll, though I was careful not to put any pressure on his still-tender stomach. Touching was so much better than seeing, and I wanted to touch him everywhere. Since he was - quite rightly - bundled up against the chill and also the low fever I could still feel warming his skin, I settled for raining kisses on his face while my hands caressed his bare scalp and traced the edges of his ears. He made a soft sound somewhere between a laugh and a satisfied sigh, and tried to wrap as much of his body around me as he could. I sent a wave of healing through him as his stomach protested.

"Did the tea help?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

From outside: "He hates the taste of tea, but yours tastes of touch and tenderness. It helped even when it didn't help."

"Ha'telamavelan," I chuckled as he sighed resignedly at Cole's exposition.

"It helped quite often," he protested. "Your question didn't reference my pleasure in drinking it."

"He enjoyed it," Cole clarified. "Just not the flavor."

I laughed harder, hiding my face against his shoulder. There were questions I needed to ask him, but for now it was enough just to be with him again and know that he was well - or at least in no danger.

We lay that way, wrapped up in each other, for several more moments - until I realized he was falling asleep with his nose buried in my hair. "You have a few patients to see to," I told him. "I did what I could, but you're a better healer than I am, and someone fractured her wrist on the way back. I'm utterly useless at mending breaks, so I just slapped an immobilization spell on it."

He heaved a sigh, but reluctantly began disentangling himself from me. "Give me a moment to change into fresh clothing," he requested.

I left, drawing Cole after me, asking a few questions about how bad it had been - the answers to which seemed to indicate "bad enough to be miserable, but never life-threatening."

Solas emerged a handful of moments later, and I went with him to look over the wounded arranged in the little stone passage where we had built our evening fires. Well, he went to look them over; I went to keep an eye on him. It wouldn't instill any confidence if he had to run off to vomit, so I sent a soothing pulse of healing through him any time his nausea spiked. Even so, he was pale - even more pale - by the time he finished tending to everyone who needed more than my rudimentary skill. And yet he was still generous with his power and attention, offering, in addition to his considerable skill, a kind smile or soothing word to anyone who seemed in need of one. I knew he was suffering, but it never showed in his manner.

There had to be good reasons for his lies. There had to be.

I went back to the tent with him afterward, and found Cole had brought my pack and laid out my bedroll next to Solas's.

"Thank you, Cole," he breathed, shedding the robe he had pulled on to attend to the injured, before wrapping himself around me again and drawing me down with him. He arranged us so that he could rest his head on my shoulder, and promptly fell asleep.

I spent a little time pressing kisses to his head and tracing the edge of his ear, wondering what had happened to his piercings, but I hadn't been getting full nights of sleep, either, and so it didn't take long for me to fall into a doze.

A cleared throat woke me sometime later, by which time the tent was quite dark. "Inquisitor." Cassandra's voice.

"I'm awake," I assured her reflexively, even though it was only barely true.

"Our meal is prepared, if one or both of you would like to eat," she told me, her tone dry.

"Oh, ma serannas," I replied, attempting to extricate myself from Solas's grasp and receiving immediate resistance. His grip tightened, and then, when I continued struggling, he groaned and tried to trap me by rolling on top of me. "Solas," I giggled, "I know you're comfortable, but I have to eat and you have to try, too."

"I am the healer here," he reminded me, his voice muffled by my tunic.

"And apparently a terrible patient! Now let me up before I Fade-shift you."

I thought I heard Cassandra chuckle as she walked away.

Eventually I convinced Solas to release me, and rose to find a meal and learn whether any of the tea I had made remained. There was bread, stew for me, and a broth made from the bones of the waterfowl someone had shot, spiced with dalavaria for good measure, and salted only very lightly - that was for Solas. There was also enough tea left for perhaps two cups. I could make more, but it would be missing the feladarala , of course. Maybe by morning he would be getting better, and I wouldn't need to.

Blackwall helped me carry everything back to the tent. A part of me wanted to join everyone else around the fire, but there were a lot of people I didn't know, whom I would have trouble assigning names to since I wouldn't be able to see them very clearly, and I didn't want Solas to have to eat alone. Better this way, perhaps - Solas had readied all the rescued soldiers for travel, so they would leave with Harding's scouts in the morning.

We would, of course, be staying. Not only was Solas still sick, there was a rogue mage whose mind appeared to be disintegrating hiding somewhere in the bog. It was time to hunt Widris down and find out exactly what sort of trouble they were brewing.