[Not terribly concerned about who overhears, Teren keeps herself measured and still for herself as much as for anyone else.]
I heard. [She tries for impassive.] Contagious or not, at the first sign of anything going amiss outside the Gallows, the Inquisition will be blamed for it and we'll be in far hotter water than if we head it off now.
[Tentatively, she clasps Anders's shoulder, her grip loose enough that he can pull away if he doesn't like it.]
No one's being imprisoned. We'll live our lives as normal and wait for it to pass, or resolve it, whichever comes first. [They are. They are being imprisoned, and she knows it, feels its icy tendrils in her heart, the same beast gripping Anders'. But there's no sense in everyone panicking, if this is how it's going to be.]
[She lets him trail off, and doesn't let him dwell on it. The Circle that killed Karl. It's not a good place to be, least of all for someone with that association.]
You'll make it. It's nowhere you'd like to be, certainly. But the Templars are powerless, half-mad even, and you're free to walk about without encountering any.
[As for the clinic, she sighs, in resignation more than exasperation. Well, shit. She pinches the bridge of her nose.]
I've already spoken to someone on the mainland who'll be caring for Boots. Is there anyone you can contact over the crystal who can... [Not do his job, per se, but at least warn the patients that he'll be away? Do anything in the meantime? She doesn't know how it works.]
[It's bitter and despairing. He can't even angrily suggest they just annul the Templars because Alistair's one of them and the Rifters are ill too and they don't deserve that. He takes a shaky breath; speaking of deserving, Teren doesn't deserve to be at the end of his upsetness.]
I'm sorry.
[And that's on the broken side.]
The healers are here. I've one in training there but she can do little more than close shallow wounds. I've herbs there but... they won't be enough. It's the cold months so there's so many ill, and there's always fighting and stabbing. There will be deaths. There will be deaths, all because the Inquisition can't consult with its spirit healers before making a disease-based decision. She's panicking and people will pay.
[Teren waves off his apology, refusing to even acknowledge it, it's that unnecessary.]
On the contrary, Anders, you're panicking. I've already told you why I think this is happening, but you're not likely to agree as long as you feel trapped. [And talking him down is helping her, too: it enrages her that there are people in the poor districts who will be without help over this, but is mass hysteria a worthwhile tradeoff?]
People will die here too, as people do, all the time, for stupid unfair reasons. [Sighing, she looks back toward where the department head offices are, imagining that tiny wisp of a tattooed woman collapsing into herself. She doesn't know Beleth well, but she was one of the Warden camp regulars and isn't unfamiliar in appearance or deed.]
Beleth isn't the sort to make a decision rashly, or to let people die for no reason. I... [she rolls her eyes at herself.] ...can't believe I'm saying this, but perhaps the people in charge know what they're doing this time.
[He is panicking, and he can't deny it, especially not with the way his hands shake. If he was still possessed, he'd be blue in very different way right now... but he's not. He doesn't have Justice to hide behind.]
The people in charge always choose cages. Always choose to lock away. They didn't ask the spirit healers about it being contagious, and they didn't ask about what's afflicting the mages. We have the root of that, it's not related, but it's used for an excuse anyway. The facts aren't needed because they, they...
[He shakes his head again, all the strength leaving his body as he looks away and curls in on himself.]
They're wrong. But my word will never be enough and the lives I want to save will never be enough. This is Kirkwall. This is what happens in Kirkwall.
Maker, Anders. [She's starting to lose her patience, but reins it in, knowing that getting snappy would only make things worse.]
If you say it's wrong, I believe you, but stop. Stop. [She rests her other hand on his other shoulder, looking pointedly into his face.]
A single loud wrong person will start a panic in the city, and we'll be the target. Even if it's all bollocks, shutting us off protects everyone who would be affected. Us, citizens, everyone. People get stupid when they think they're in danger, and even moreso when they have someone to blame for it. Us. They will blame us.
[She gives him a tiny shake, not enough to be violent, but to make sure he's paying attention.]
You know this better than bloody anyone. So we'll sort out your patients, we won't sleep until it's sorted, but we're going to be good quiet little fucking neighbors and calm down and ride this out without making more problems.
[Once again, she's talking to herself as much as to him, but at the very least she's managing to become convinced there's some truth to it.]
Now shall we see what we can do for the clinic? Before the boats stop running?
[He looks up, swallowing, trying to meet her eyes and trying to hear all she's saying. She believes him. Kirkwall's legacy is no one believing him, but the woman in front of him who keeps everyone at arm's length is holding his shoulder and telling him she believes him.
Anders breathes, shakily. The rest of it isn't easy, but she's right. There's always potential for easy panic in a city and all it took was one crazed Templar or crazed blue Rifter to set matters off. And there's still a small window to help Darktown before it's out of his hands.]
We can, we can strip my office in the infirmary. The healing potions, they're not working on the plague anyway. We can send all of it that I've made.
[His body language and voice are still defeated, but his gaze isn't as drawn inward. He can't help himself. He's caged and tracked again. But maybe he can help Darktown a little more still.]
Bandages and poultices. General antivenom for the spiders that are rampant down there.
[He takes a breath. Thranduil offered to pay for a healer - there isn't one that they can hire, but the supplies funded by the Inquisition will at least help with some of it.]
Everything. It's the Inquisition's fault they won't have a healer. They can have it all.
[Teren nods, and is happy to let Anders take the lead. He may be panicking, but he at least knows what he needs in order to stop doing so, and she's happy to help him acquire it if it means everything's calmer as a result.]
[His actions when he gets there are frantic. Anger can push back some of the fear and some of the bile that's risen in his throat, but not all of it. He'll wrap some potions in bandages to keep them safe for travel, stick them next to a bag, and then disjointedly try sorting through the neatly labled herbs as if all of the labels aren't in his hand. He knows this room in the Infirmary by heart, but there is no way to protect Darktown from every eventuality and all he can see are his failures as he tries to pack things up.]
I can't save them all. I can't even save us. All I did, and it's this easy to take away freedom again. Why is it this easy, Teren? How can I make it harder? How do I protect my people when I can't even protect me?
[She helps him as much as she can, mostly taking direction and following after Anders to make sure everything he does receives a second and more careful pass.]
You protect them by staying alive, [she reasons, making a face at a small vial of something before packing it in with the rest.] That's the most anyone can ask. The rest is up to fate.
[Protect them by staying alive. He tries the thought on for size and can't quite figure it out. He helps his friends by staying alive, yes. There's a sometimes-surprising amount of people who would be upset if he was to die.]
How does my staying alive help? Unless it's the target on my back that's... distracting?
[He's gotten better at dealing with the hate directed his way, and sometimes knowing that his being alive makes their day worse makes his better. So many have tried to kill him. They've all failed, and most of them are dead instead.]
I've gotten particularly good at still drawing breath. Even when it's hard to breathe.
[Like now, as he finishes filling one pack with shaky hands and closes it up before moving on to the second and frowning at it. What else would help? They may be at the end of what will really make a difference and he stills, swallowing hard. It's out of his hands as soon as he hands the packs over. There's nothing else he can do and it's another layer of helplessness.
Anders looks over at Teren.]
I need to find a way to secure the mages against a repeat of this. A cure, a return to Darktown to... to save who I can, and then... Maker, there's always more.
[She rolls her eyes, more from weariness than irritation.]
Because the longer you stay alive, the longer you're around to offer your aid, [Teren explains patiently,] so spare the gloom and doom and get to work. Yes?
[She's been filling packs according to his instructions, helping with the busywork and keeping everything organized and well-placed so there's no undue stress.]
[One thing at a time. It never feels like there's time for that, but trying to do too many things does trip him up. Anders takes a shaky breath and starts shouldering the packs.]
After this... I have to find a way to protect my people, Teren. I know you don't, don't trust magic. Or mages. But will you help me? Please? You've seen more of the world, know more of politics...
[He looks at her, a short pause in all the franticness. Never before has he wanted to hug her as much as he does in this moment. Her friendship is there. Completely. She's there.]
I... I don't know.
[It feels cheap in his mouth, and the exhaustion that he uses to justify it feels even more cheap.]
Because I'm not thinking right now.
[That feels a little closer to adequate as he leads the way out.]
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2018-02-03 03:34 am (UTC)I heard. [She tries for impassive.] Contagious or not, at the first sign of anything going amiss outside the Gallows, the Inquisition will be blamed for it and we'll be in far hotter water than if we head it off now.
[Tentatively, she clasps Anders's shoulder, her grip loose enough that he can pull away if he doesn't like it.]
No one's being imprisoned. We'll live our lives as normal and wait for it to pass, or resolve it, whichever comes first. [They are. They are being imprisoned, and she knows it, feels its icy tendrils in her heart, the same beast gripping Anders'. But there's no sense in everyone panicking, if this is how it's going to be.]
no subject
Date: 2018-02-03 03:59 am (UTC)In the Circle. The Circle that killed...
[His filters are so far down but he manages to catch himself, shaking his head and taking a half-step back.]
I don't know how to do this, Teren. Caged here, when I've already lost Sina this year, when I'm going to lose patients in Darktown...
no subject
Date: 2018-02-03 04:57 am (UTC)[She lets him trail off, and doesn't let him dwell on it. The Circle that killed Karl. It's not a good place to be, least of all for someone with that association.]
You'll make it. It's nowhere you'd like to be, certainly. But the Templars are powerless, half-mad even, and you're free to walk about without encountering any.
[As for the clinic, she sighs, in resignation more than exasperation. Well, shit. She pinches the bridge of her nose.]
I've already spoken to someone on the mainland who'll be caring for Boots. Is there anyone you can contact over the crystal who can... [Not do his job, per se, but at least warn the patients that he'll be away? Do anything in the meantime? She doesn't know how it works.]
no subject
Date: 2018-02-03 05:45 am (UTC)[It's bitter and despairing. He can't even angrily suggest they just annul the Templars because Alistair's one of them and the Rifters are ill too and they don't deserve that. He takes a shaky breath; speaking of deserving, Teren doesn't deserve to be at the end of his upsetness.]
I'm sorry.
[And that's on the broken side.]
The healers are here. I've one in training there but she can do little more than close shallow wounds. I've herbs there but... they won't be enough. It's the cold months so there's so many ill, and there's always fighting and stabbing. There will be deaths. There will be deaths, all because the Inquisition can't consult with its spirit healers before making a disease-based decision. She's panicking and people will pay.
no subject
Date: 2018-02-03 06:02 am (UTC)On the contrary, Anders, you're panicking. I've already told you why I think this is happening, but you're not likely to agree as long as you feel trapped. [And talking him down is helping her, too: it enrages her that there are people in the poor districts who will be without help over this, but is mass hysteria a worthwhile tradeoff?]
People will die here too, as people do, all the time, for stupid unfair reasons. [Sighing, she looks back toward where the department head offices are, imagining that tiny wisp of a tattooed woman collapsing into herself. She doesn't know Beleth well, but she was one of the Warden camp regulars and isn't unfamiliar in appearance or deed.]
Beleth isn't the sort to make a decision rashly, or to let people die for no reason. I... [she rolls her eyes at herself.] ...can't believe I'm saying this, but perhaps the people in charge know what they're doing this time.
no subject
Date: 2018-02-03 08:23 am (UTC)The people in charge always choose cages. Always choose to lock away. They didn't ask the spirit healers about it being contagious, and they didn't ask about what's afflicting the mages. We have the root of that, it's not related, but it's used for an excuse anyway. The facts aren't needed because they, they...
[He shakes his head again, all the strength leaving his body as he looks away and curls in on himself.]
They're wrong. But my word will never be enough and the lives I want to save will never be enough. This is Kirkwall. This is what happens in Kirkwall.
no subject
Date: 2018-02-03 09:36 am (UTC)If you say it's wrong, I believe you, but stop. Stop. [She rests her other hand on his other shoulder, looking pointedly into his face.]
A single loud wrong person will start a panic in the city, and we'll be the target. Even if it's all bollocks, shutting us off protects everyone who would be affected. Us, citizens, everyone. People get stupid when they think they're in danger, and even moreso when they have someone to blame for it. Us. They will blame us.
[She gives him a tiny shake, not enough to be violent, but to make sure he's paying attention.]
You know this better than bloody anyone. So we'll sort out your patients, we won't sleep until it's sorted, but we're going to be good quiet little fucking neighbors and calm down and ride this out without making more problems.
[Once again, she's talking to herself as much as to him, but at the very least she's managing to become convinced there's some truth to it.]
Now shall we see what we can do for the clinic? Before the boats stop running?
no subject
Date: 2018-02-03 10:07 am (UTC)Anders breathes, shakily. The rest of it isn't easy, but she's right. There's always potential for easy panic in a city and all it took was one crazed Templar or crazed blue Rifter to set matters off. And there's still a small window to help Darktown before it's out of his hands.]
We can, we can strip my office in the infirmary. The healing potions, they're not working on the plague anyway. We can send all of it that I've made.
[His body language and voice are still defeated, but his gaze isn't as drawn inward. He can't help himself. He's caged and tracked again. But maybe he can help Darktown a little more still.]
Bandages and poultices. General antivenom for the spiders that are rampant down there.
[He takes a breath. Thranduil offered to pay for a healer - there isn't one that they can hire, but the supplies funded by the Inquisition will at least help with some of it.]
Everything. It's the Inquisition's fault they won't have a healer. They can have it all.
no subject
Date: 2018-02-05 07:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-02-07 09:11 am (UTC)I can't save them all. I can't even save us. All I did, and it's this easy to take away freedom again. Why is it this easy, Teren? How can I make it harder? How do I protect my people when I can't even protect me?
no subject
Date: 2018-02-09 06:32 am (UTC)You protect them by staying alive, [she reasons, making a face at a small vial of something before packing it in with the rest.] That's the most anyone can ask. The rest is up to fate.
no subject
Date: 2018-02-10 08:50 am (UTC)How does my staying alive help? Unless it's the target on my back that's... distracting?
[He's gotten better at dealing with the hate directed his way, and sometimes knowing that his being alive makes their day worse makes his better. So many have tried to kill him. They've all failed, and most of them are dead instead.]
I've gotten particularly good at still drawing breath. Even when it's hard to breathe.
[Like now, as he finishes filling one pack with shaky hands and closes it up before moving on to the second and frowning at it. What else would help? They may be at the end of what will really make a difference and he stills, swallowing hard. It's out of his hands as soon as he hands the packs over. There's nothing else he can do and it's another layer of helplessness.
Anders looks over at Teren.]
I need to find a way to secure the mages against a repeat of this. A cure, a return to Darktown to... to save who I can, and then... Maker, there's always more.
no subject
Date: 2018-02-13 12:22 am (UTC)Because the longer you stay alive, the longer you're around to offer your aid, [Teren explains patiently,] so spare the gloom and doom and get to work. Yes?
[She's been filling packs according to his instructions, helping with the busywork and keeping everything organized and well-placed so there's no undue stress.]
One thing at a time. Right now we're doing this.
no subject
Date: 2018-02-20 09:22 am (UTC)After this... I have to find a way to protect my people, Teren. I know you don't, don't trust magic. Or mages. But will you help me? Please? You've seen more of the world, know more of politics...
no subject
Date: 2018-02-24 05:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-02-24 06:25 am (UTC)I... I don't know.
[It feels cheap in his mouth, and the exhaustion that he uses to justify it feels even more cheap.]
Because I'm not thinking right now.
[That feels a little closer to adequate as he leads the way out.]