What began as a normal illness for Zethlasan became something life-threatening at an alarming rate.
Vesryn wasn't sure he understood the decline in his friend's health. And he did feel he could call him that again, though it was a strained admission more than anything. Zeth hadn't brought up Saraya in anything more than passing since their rather emotional talk in Cyrus's workshop. It seemed like ages ago, now, with everything that had happened to Cyrus in the meantime. For his part, Zeth had kept mostly to himself during his time at Skyhold, but his attitude had changed from the arrogance he had originally expressed, to more of a quiet respectfulness. Finally aware that his words and his actions were creating a great deal of strain, he steadily began to make up for that. Whether or not he could undo the damage was up to each individual person he'd rubbed the wrong way, but Vesryn at least was inclined to forgive him.
Especially if things continued the way they were. Vesryn sat in a chair that was a bit too small for him, situated along one of the inner walls of Skyhold's infirmary. There were mercifully few patients for Asala and the other medical staff to watch over lately, with the relative calm that had lasted through the summer, apart from the interruption caused by Leta. Zeth was laid up in a bed across the room from Vesryn, currently sleeping. He looked terrible, his color severely drained, and his appetite had been steadily withering away. He wasn't able to keep much food down. He was often struck by fevers and chills, and standing had proven too much for him to handle for more than a day now. Despite all that was done and said, it pained Vesryn to see him this way.
Astraia felt it, too. She sat at his bedside, occupying herself with the book Cyrus had given Zeth. Vesryn didn't think she could read much of it, and indeed she hadn't expressed all that much interest in it, at least not until it became apparent that her brother's illness could take his life. Now she couldn't be torn away from it, flipping page after page. Either she desperately wanted to understand it, or she desperately wanted something to hold her attention.
The pacing was done most often by Shae, who occasionally snapped in anger at the medical staff that treated Zeth. Frustration, perhaps. So far, no one seemed to know what exactly was wrong with him, and healing magic seemed to have no effect other than to ease his pain. Vesryn could sympathize with Shae's frustrations. The protection of the Keeper's First was her responsibility, but she could do nothing to protect him from this. She could only pace and wait, and hope that he would make a recovery.
In time, the door to the infirmary opened, admitting bright afternoon sunlight and a sort of balmy warmth, but it closed again quickly and quietly, leaving behind only Stel. She had what looked to be a bundle of medical supplies in one hand, which she passed to the first healer she saw, and several freshly-cut flowers in the other. Long stems of indigo-colored larkspur, by the look of them. She hovered a bit awkwardly by the door, uncertainty drawing her brows together.
“Ves? Is it okay if I, um...?" She gestured vaguely with the hand holding the flowers, in the direction of the rest of them.
Vesryn blinked, drawn out of his thoughts by her, but he dredged up a hint of a smile. "Oh. Yes, of course." He sat up a little straighter, taking a few seconds to rub at his eyes. He hadn't gotten much sleep the past few days.
Stel nodded slightly, mustering a mild smile for Astraia and Shae as well, and abandoned her uncomfortable position barely over the threshold to move closer to all of them. An empty vase near an equally-empty bed seemed well enough for her purposes, and she picked it up on the way over. A tap to the side of it with a finger filled it about halfway with water, so she could slide in the flowers. She set them with care on Zeth's bare bedside table, fluffing a few of the petals with her fingers before dropping her hands and stepping away. They smelled fresh, pleasant, but not at all overpowering.
“I'd heard he's worsened," she said, softly even for her. Perhaps because Zeth was sleeping. “Do we still not know what's wrong?"
"Garas quenathra?" Shae said under her breath, the elven words almost hissed. Her eyes only momentarily flitted to Stel before they dropped back down to the floor. She continued pacing. Vesryn tilted his head at her.
"Shae..." She stopped, somewhat loosening how tightly her arms were crossed. "She's a friend, and she's here because she's concerned."
Shae looked back to Stel, and then slowly nodded. "I'm sorry."
For once, Stel didn't seem to take a negative reaction too badly; she dipped her head at Shae in return, solemn but to all appearances unhurt by the other woman's tone, or words—and she seemed to understand them. “It's all right."
"Tel... telanadas." Astraia drew her finger over a page in the book, over-pronouncing the word on it. "Nothing is inevitable. I think that's what it says." She glanced up. "Hi, Estella."
"We don't know what's wrong, no," Vesryn said heavily, exhaling. "At this rate... I don't know how much longer it will be. I think a matter of days."
Stel sank slowly into one of the chairs next to Vesryn, expression troubled. She linked her hands together in her lap, fidgeting a bit with her fingers and then glancing to where Zeth lay, the little crease above her nose deepening. “I'm sorry," she said, the sincerity easy to hear. It seemed as though she wanted to say more than that, but he could almost see her decide it was useless and bite her tongue instead.
"It doesn't make any sense." His hands rested on his thighs, but he couldn't stop moving his fingers. Drumming them lightly on his legs, pinching the fabric of his pants. He'd been thinking about this all day, and couldn't manage to make any headway on it. Even Saraya was concerned, Vesryn suspected because the nature of the illness was so mysterious. "It's like he's been poisoned, isn't it? But what kind of poison works this slowly? What's the point of it?" He didn't actually think anyone had poisoned Zethlasan. If it was poison, Asala's alchemy would've been able to remedy it by now. Vesryn had even asked Romulus for help, expecting the assassin to know a thing or two of poisons. That hadn't worked either.
"He'll be alright, I think," Astraia said. She flipped another page of the book, blinking rapidly. "Telanadas. Telanadas."
“He is a mage," Stel offered, casting a worried look at Astraia for a moment. “That brings dangers of its own, and not all of them work in ways you'd expect." She pursed her lips, shaking her head. “Not that that's much help to you." She sighed through her nose.
Astraia had no answer to that, and had to briefly look away to dab at her face rather than risk letting any tears fall on the pages. A few seconds later a cough came from the bed, and Zeth stirred. Astraia shut the book and set it on a table at the bedside, reaching over to grab her brother's hand. "Zeth," she said breathlessly. "Feeling any better?"
He groaned softly. "Afraid not, sis." He was sweating a little already. Probably could use a change of sheets soon. Astraia bit her lower lip.
Vesryn slowly rose from his seat. "Excuse me for a minute." He gave her a brief squeeze on the shoulder, conveying his thanks more than anything. He wasn't surprised she'd come to see Zeth, but it still managed to move him every time she did something like that. Always thinking of others, and how she could help, even if it was just in the smallest of ways. He grabbed his chair by the back, picking it up and carrying it over beside Astraia's, where he sank down into it again, laying his hand on the elf's upper back between her shoulder blades.
Stel's footsteps were almost noiseless as she rose and left the room, perhaps intent on giving the rest of them their privacy. The door shut quietly behind her.
"I'm glad we had that talk, Ves." Zeth managed to push himself up into a seated position. Shae immediately jumped to help him, sliding his pillow back to support him better. Once he was comfortable, he managed a strained smile. "I always feared we'd leave things that way. A rift between us."
"Poor choice of words there, what with everything going on." Vesryn grinned a little, and it earned a laugh from Zeth, which he didn't seem to mind even when it morphed into a cough that pained him throughout his chest. He grimaced, but it didn't defeat his smile.
"I hope she can forgive me, for the things I suggested." He didn't need to say whom he was speaking about. "It was selfish, everything I said. Reckless and dangerous." He swallowed, the act causing him obvious discomfort. "Do you know, what she thinks? Can you feel it?"
"It's..." Vesryn hesitated, unsure whether or not he should tell him the truth. He had to, he decided, if there was a chance they wouldn't be having any more conversations soon. "It's hard to say. I don't know if I can properly put it into words. Everything's happened too fast. I think she'd prefer if you had more time, to prove that you really listened to me in that tower. But, she doubts now. Doubts that you're as bad as she was convinced."
He smiled again. "Well. I'll take that as a compliment." Something passed over his features for a moment. A strain from the pain he was feeling, perhaps, and the weakness. He winced, and then shifted to try to find a more comfortable spot in the bed.
"You're not going to die," Astraia declared firmly. "Stop acting like it. Telanadas. It's not inevitable. You can fight it." Vesryn looked sadly at her, sliding his arm around her shoulder and pulling her sideways into him. She let her head fall against his chest, closing her eyes and refusing to let go of Zethlasan's hand.
"I certainly plan to try," he assured her, taking her hand in both of his. "But if I lose, you know what you need to do, right? You'll be the First of Clan Thremael. It'll be your responsibility to take everything you've learned here, and bring it home to our people. Our family. Can you do that?"
She pushed away from Vesryn, shaking her head. "No, that's your job. You're the First. I'm going to go off on adventures with another clan... maybe one that doesn't wander next to a marsh all the time." He grinned at her, the honest expression earning one in return from his sister. She smiled through tears, and he reached up to affectionately ruffle her hair, her beads and metal bands clinking together from it.
"I think you'll be fine," he said, assessing her. "Shae will watch over you, and soon you'll have all of your magic well in hand. You're powerful, and you're smart. More importantly you're a good person. You'll teach your clan to be as good as you are. I know it."
She couldn't hold it together anymore, and the tears began to run more steadily over her face. She fell forward, head falling near his lap, and he reached to hold her as best he could. "I'm... I'm so happy to have you back," she choked out. Zethlasan frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Sniffing, she lifted her head again, though she could only meet his eyes for a few seconds at a time. "I was worried, Zeth. Worried that you... that you'd given up on me. Like the rest of the clan."
That brought tears to his eyes as well, and he looked as though the admission had physically hurt him, though not in an offended way. He just looked... sad. Still, he pulled her forward into a proper hug. "You're my sister, Skygirl. I could never give up on you."
Vesryn sat back in his chair for a moment, watching them. Shae had turned away, looking out the window and hiding her face. However it turned out, Vesryn was glad that they had at least been able to come to this. Some fractured form of reconciliation with him. Zeth was hardly perfect, but underneath his outer layers Vesryn really did believe he was a good man. He met his eyes while Zeth still held his sister, and his friend nodded to him. Nodding back, Vesryn rose from his chair, carrying it back over to the wall.
He opened the door to step out of the infirmary, finding the air to be refreshing. Summer was beginning to pass, and it did so more quickly for a place like Skyhold than elsewhere. He found Stel waiting just outside, and didn't bother trying to blink away or wipe the tears that had formed in his eyes. "Thanks for taking the time to visit. This is... it's a lot to deal with, and I'm not sure I know how." Given how complex their relationship was, Vesryn was just trying to focus on the meaningful part of it. Zeth was a friend, an important one in his life, one that taught him a great many lessons, even if they were painful ones.
“I don't think anyone knows how," Stel said gently, offering a sad little smile. “It's not... it's not something we can just fix by going somewhere or figuring something out or trying to convince someone. I think I've always hated that feeling of helplessness the most. The feeling of not being able to do anything for someone I care about, when they're in pain." She probably knew it quite well by this point, considering recent events, but something about the way she said it suggested an older familiarity than that.
She turned to face him more fully, tipping her head back slightly to meet his eyes. “I know it doesn't really help anything, but... I'm sorry you have to go through this. And the others, too; Zeth of course. If there's anything any of you need in the meantime, anything the Inquisition can give, or I can..." She sighed; it sounded almost frustrated, but that part was clearly not directed at him.
She looked for a moment like she wanted to try again, but instead she just spread her arms a little, tone softening even further. “Would you... like a hug, Ves? I'm afraid I don't have much else to give."
He broke into a smile at that, though one of the tears escaped and rolled down his cheek. He didn't let it get in the way of his soft laugh. "I would like that very much, I think." He stepped across the short space between them, closing his arms around her. He gave rather good hugs, he thought, but he supposed Stel would have to be the judge of that.
Vesryn wasn't sure he understood the decline in his friend's health. And he did feel he could call him that again, though it was a strained admission more than anything. Zeth hadn't brought up Saraya in anything more than passing since their rather emotional talk in Cyrus's workshop. It seemed like ages ago, now, with everything that had happened to Cyrus in the meantime. For his part, Zeth had kept mostly to himself during his time at Skyhold, but his attitude had changed from the arrogance he had originally expressed, to more of a quiet respectfulness. Finally aware that his words and his actions were creating a great deal of strain, he steadily began to make up for that. Whether or not he could undo the damage was up to each individual person he'd rubbed the wrong way, but Vesryn at least was inclined to forgive him.
Especially if things continued the way they were. Vesryn sat in a chair that was a bit too small for him, situated along one of the inner walls of Skyhold's infirmary. There were mercifully few patients for Asala and the other medical staff to watch over lately, with the relative calm that had lasted through the summer, apart from the interruption caused by Leta. Zeth was laid up in a bed across the room from Vesryn, currently sleeping. He looked terrible, his color severely drained, and his appetite had been steadily withering away. He wasn't able to keep much food down. He was often struck by fevers and chills, and standing had proven too much for him to handle for more than a day now. Despite all that was done and said, it pained Vesryn to see him this way.
Astraia felt it, too. She sat at his bedside, occupying herself with the book Cyrus had given Zeth. Vesryn didn't think she could read much of it, and indeed she hadn't expressed all that much interest in it, at least not until it became apparent that her brother's illness could take his life. Now she couldn't be torn away from it, flipping page after page. Either she desperately wanted to understand it, or she desperately wanted something to hold her attention.
The pacing was done most often by Shae, who occasionally snapped in anger at the medical staff that treated Zeth. Frustration, perhaps. So far, no one seemed to know what exactly was wrong with him, and healing magic seemed to have no effect other than to ease his pain. Vesryn could sympathize with Shae's frustrations. The protection of the Keeper's First was her responsibility, but she could do nothing to protect him from this. She could only pace and wait, and hope that he would make a recovery.
In time, the door to the infirmary opened, admitting bright afternoon sunlight and a sort of balmy warmth, but it closed again quickly and quietly, leaving behind only Stel. She had what looked to be a bundle of medical supplies in one hand, which she passed to the first healer she saw, and several freshly-cut flowers in the other. Long stems of indigo-colored larkspur, by the look of them. She hovered a bit awkwardly by the door, uncertainty drawing her brows together.
“Ves? Is it okay if I, um...?" She gestured vaguely with the hand holding the flowers, in the direction of the rest of them.
Vesryn blinked, drawn out of his thoughts by her, but he dredged up a hint of a smile. "Oh. Yes, of course." He sat up a little straighter, taking a few seconds to rub at his eyes. He hadn't gotten much sleep the past few days.
Stel nodded slightly, mustering a mild smile for Astraia and Shae as well, and abandoned her uncomfortable position barely over the threshold to move closer to all of them. An empty vase near an equally-empty bed seemed well enough for her purposes, and she picked it up on the way over. A tap to the side of it with a finger filled it about halfway with water, so she could slide in the flowers. She set them with care on Zeth's bare bedside table, fluffing a few of the petals with her fingers before dropping her hands and stepping away. They smelled fresh, pleasant, but not at all overpowering.
“I'd heard he's worsened," she said, softly even for her. Perhaps because Zeth was sleeping. “Do we still not know what's wrong?"
"Garas quenathra?" Shae said under her breath, the elven words almost hissed. Her eyes only momentarily flitted to Stel before they dropped back down to the floor. She continued pacing. Vesryn tilted his head at her.
"Shae..." She stopped, somewhat loosening how tightly her arms were crossed. "She's a friend, and she's here because she's concerned."
Shae looked back to Stel, and then slowly nodded. "I'm sorry."
For once, Stel didn't seem to take a negative reaction too badly; she dipped her head at Shae in return, solemn but to all appearances unhurt by the other woman's tone, or words—and she seemed to understand them. “It's all right."
"Tel... telanadas." Astraia drew her finger over a page in the book, over-pronouncing the word on it. "Nothing is inevitable. I think that's what it says." She glanced up. "Hi, Estella."
"We don't know what's wrong, no," Vesryn said heavily, exhaling. "At this rate... I don't know how much longer it will be. I think a matter of days."
Stel sank slowly into one of the chairs next to Vesryn, expression troubled. She linked her hands together in her lap, fidgeting a bit with her fingers and then glancing to where Zeth lay, the little crease above her nose deepening. “I'm sorry," she said, the sincerity easy to hear. It seemed as though she wanted to say more than that, but he could almost see her decide it was useless and bite her tongue instead.
"It doesn't make any sense." His hands rested on his thighs, but he couldn't stop moving his fingers. Drumming them lightly on his legs, pinching the fabric of his pants. He'd been thinking about this all day, and couldn't manage to make any headway on it. Even Saraya was concerned, Vesryn suspected because the nature of the illness was so mysterious. "It's like he's been poisoned, isn't it? But what kind of poison works this slowly? What's the point of it?" He didn't actually think anyone had poisoned Zethlasan. If it was poison, Asala's alchemy would've been able to remedy it by now. Vesryn had even asked Romulus for help, expecting the assassin to know a thing or two of poisons. That hadn't worked either.
"He'll be alright, I think," Astraia said. She flipped another page of the book, blinking rapidly. "Telanadas. Telanadas."
“He is a mage," Stel offered, casting a worried look at Astraia for a moment. “That brings dangers of its own, and not all of them work in ways you'd expect." She pursed her lips, shaking her head. “Not that that's much help to you." She sighed through her nose.
Astraia had no answer to that, and had to briefly look away to dab at her face rather than risk letting any tears fall on the pages. A few seconds later a cough came from the bed, and Zeth stirred. Astraia shut the book and set it on a table at the bedside, reaching over to grab her brother's hand. "Zeth," she said breathlessly. "Feeling any better?"
He groaned softly. "Afraid not, sis." He was sweating a little already. Probably could use a change of sheets soon. Astraia bit her lower lip.
Vesryn slowly rose from his seat. "Excuse me for a minute." He gave her a brief squeeze on the shoulder, conveying his thanks more than anything. He wasn't surprised she'd come to see Zeth, but it still managed to move him every time she did something like that. Always thinking of others, and how she could help, even if it was just in the smallest of ways. He grabbed his chair by the back, picking it up and carrying it over beside Astraia's, where he sank down into it again, laying his hand on the elf's upper back between her shoulder blades.
Stel's footsteps were almost noiseless as she rose and left the room, perhaps intent on giving the rest of them their privacy. The door shut quietly behind her.
"I'm glad we had that talk, Ves." Zeth managed to push himself up into a seated position. Shae immediately jumped to help him, sliding his pillow back to support him better. Once he was comfortable, he managed a strained smile. "I always feared we'd leave things that way. A rift between us."
"Poor choice of words there, what with everything going on." Vesryn grinned a little, and it earned a laugh from Zeth, which he didn't seem to mind even when it morphed into a cough that pained him throughout his chest. He grimaced, but it didn't defeat his smile.
"I hope she can forgive me, for the things I suggested." He didn't need to say whom he was speaking about. "It was selfish, everything I said. Reckless and dangerous." He swallowed, the act causing him obvious discomfort. "Do you know, what she thinks? Can you feel it?"
"It's..." Vesryn hesitated, unsure whether or not he should tell him the truth. He had to, he decided, if there was a chance they wouldn't be having any more conversations soon. "It's hard to say. I don't know if I can properly put it into words. Everything's happened too fast. I think she'd prefer if you had more time, to prove that you really listened to me in that tower. But, she doubts now. Doubts that you're as bad as she was convinced."
He smiled again. "Well. I'll take that as a compliment." Something passed over his features for a moment. A strain from the pain he was feeling, perhaps, and the weakness. He winced, and then shifted to try to find a more comfortable spot in the bed.
"You're not going to die," Astraia declared firmly. "Stop acting like it. Telanadas. It's not inevitable. You can fight it." Vesryn looked sadly at her, sliding his arm around her shoulder and pulling her sideways into him. She let her head fall against his chest, closing her eyes and refusing to let go of Zethlasan's hand.
"I certainly plan to try," he assured her, taking her hand in both of his. "But if I lose, you know what you need to do, right? You'll be the First of Clan Thremael. It'll be your responsibility to take everything you've learned here, and bring it home to our people. Our family. Can you do that?"
She pushed away from Vesryn, shaking her head. "No, that's your job. You're the First. I'm going to go off on adventures with another clan... maybe one that doesn't wander next to a marsh all the time." He grinned at her, the honest expression earning one in return from his sister. She smiled through tears, and he reached up to affectionately ruffle her hair, her beads and metal bands clinking together from it.
"I think you'll be fine," he said, assessing her. "Shae will watch over you, and soon you'll have all of your magic well in hand. You're powerful, and you're smart. More importantly you're a good person. You'll teach your clan to be as good as you are. I know it."
She couldn't hold it together anymore, and the tears began to run more steadily over her face. She fell forward, head falling near his lap, and he reached to hold her as best he could. "I'm... I'm so happy to have you back," she choked out. Zethlasan frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Sniffing, she lifted her head again, though she could only meet his eyes for a few seconds at a time. "I was worried, Zeth. Worried that you... that you'd given up on me. Like the rest of the clan."
That brought tears to his eyes as well, and he looked as though the admission had physically hurt him, though not in an offended way. He just looked... sad. Still, he pulled her forward into a proper hug. "You're my sister, Skygirl. I could never give up on you."
Vesryn sat back in his chair for a moment, watching them. Shae had turned away, looking out the window and hiding her face. However it turned out, Vesryn was glad that they had at least been able to come to this. Some fractured form of reconciliation with him. Zeth was hardly perfect, but underneath his outer layers Vesryn really did believe he was a good man. He met his eyes while Zeth still held his sister, and his friend nodded to him. Nodding back, Vesryn rose from his chair, carrying it back over to the wall.
He opened the door to step out of the infirmary, finding the air to be refreshing. Summer was beginning to pass, and it did so more quickly for a place like Skyhold than elsewhere. He found Stel waiting just outside, and didn't bother trying to blink away or wipe the tears that had formed in his eyes. "Thanks for taking the time to visit. This is... it's a lot to deal with, and I'm not sure I know how." Given how complex their relationship was, Vesryn was just trying to focus on the meaningful part of it. Zeth was a friend, an important one in his life, one that taught him a great many lessons, even if they were painful ones.
“I don't think anyone knows how," Stel said gently, offering a sad little smile. “It's not... it's not something we can just fix by going somewhere or figuring something out or trying to convince someone. I think I've always hated that feeling of helplessness the most. The feeling of not being able to do anything for someone I care about, when they're in pain." She probably knew it quite well by this point, considering recent events, but something about the way she said it suggested an older familiarity than that.
She turned to face him more fully, tipping her head back slightly to meet his eyes. “I know it doesn't really help anything, but... I'm sorry you have to go through this. And the others, too; Zeth of course. If there's anything any of you need in the meantime, anything the Inquisition can give, or I can..." She sighed; it sounded almost frustrated, but that part was clearly not directed at him.
She looked for a moment like she wanted to try again, but instead she just spread her arms a little, tone softening even further. “Would you... like a hug, Ves? I'm afraid I don't have much else to give."
He broke into a smile at that, though one of the tears escaped and rolled down his cheek. He didn't let it get in the way of his soft laugh. "I would like that very much, I think." He stepped across the short space between them, closing his arms around her. He gave rather good hugs, he thought, but he supposed Stel would have to be the judge of that.