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[rowancrowned]

 

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[rowancrowned]

[ he yawns. ]

You are welcome, Gwenaëlle.

[elegiaque]

( in a tone of belated realisation - )

Did I wake you?

[rowancrowned]

No. [ a gently amused tone at the thought that it matters—! ] I, like you, cannot seem to embrace the Fade quite yet.

Is Guenievre with you?

[elegiaque]

Yes. Sleeping. We've been at the healing tents, it's - busy.

( guenievre keeps busier than gwenaëlle does, but she's not completely useless. )

[rowancrowned]

There is no good 'busy' in a house of healers.

[elegiaque]

( there's a hitch in her breath that she doesn't acknowledge; )

It won't be much longer.

[rowancrowned]

Who? Why?

[ she's so young, as are all her friends. ]

[elegiaque]

His friends aren't good at this. At - warriors aren't supposed to die lying down. But I've - I know about that. I am.

( good at that. )

[rowancrowned]

Comfortable with death?

[ it is a mortal fact of life. yet they fight against it so violently. he is not sure what to do. ]

[elegiaque]

I know it. I've done this before.

( her exhale is steady by sheer bloody-minded determination. )

It's Asher. I don't know if you ever met him. The Avvar with the Boneflayers.

[rowancrowned]

I did not.

[ between being wrapped up in his studies in the library and meeting with all the elves he can, he's been-- busy. ]

Have you eaten?

[ he's definitely wide awake now. ]

[elegiaque]

I think so. I don't remember anyone scolding me about it.

( not that guenievre would, but she looks. )

[rowancrowned]

Pass the crystal to Guenievre, if you please.

[elegiaque]

She's sl--

( there's a - not silence. a pause. muffled orlesian muttering, and then guenievre's voice; )

Yes, ser?

[rowancrowned]

What will she eat? What will you eat?

[ general shuffling noises as he pulls himself out of bed, finds boots, slips them on. ]

[elegiaque]

I've eaten, ( she says, almost conciliatory. ) She picked at her meal. Fish would suit her palate better. A lighter meal.

( gwenaëlle can be heard complaining I didn't pick at it. )

[rowancrowned]

[ he's got his boots on and is halfway to the door before he realizes-

he's not in skyhold. she's not in orlais.

the footsteps are slower, this time, going back to his bed, toeing off his boots. ]

I... am afraid I cannot help, Guenievre. I am in Halamshiral.

[elegiaque]

( a small breath of laughter, rueful; an exchange in orlesian; gwenaëlle, again, very reasonably; ) I did eat. Everything is -

fine.

( well, it isn't, but not in any way thranduil could solve even if he were here, she thinks. )

[rowancrowned]

Your friend is dying.

[ rude, but to the point. ]

And you are too- [ he cuts himself off here. the wood of the bed creaks as he shifts. his tone, now, is softer. ]

Gwenaëlle, may I beg a favor from you?

[elegiaque]

( there's a long, stung silence. finally; )

What sort of favour.

[rowancrowned]

That you will eat at twice a day, and bathe once every two days, and lay in bed, if not sleep, for at least six hours a night until I come back to Skyhold.

Tell me what I need do in return.

[elegiaque]

( you're not her real dad, thranduil. )

I've been eating. And bathing.

( probably less than twice a day.

probably not irrelevant she doesn't immediately dispute that she's been sleeping, either. probably he can envision the mutinous expression she's wearing without any help. )

Bring me back something from Halamshiral. I'll lie down.

[rowancrowned]

Thank you, my lady. Your heart is full of endless compassion for an old elf who wishes only for a kind ear to hear his stories.

[ that's true he's much hotter than papa gwen. ]

I will bring back two for you.

[elegiaque]

You aren't very charming when you're being ironic.

( she has already sunk down under her blankets, though, and it's slightly muffled by that. a yawn; )

I need a new hair comb.

[rowancrowned]

[ all the way in orlais, he's pleased, also sinking into bed, pulling the covers up. ]

That is a very intimate gift. You are willing to receive that from me?