Youâre going to get yourself killed one of these days. The words were almost there on Nostarielâs tongue, but she quieted them. It didnât feel right to say them, all the circumstances considered. She knew she likely had some part, however small, in the fact that Ash found it difficult to find patrol partners, and maybe even in the fact that the captain didnât see fit to enforce the rules about those things in his case. Maybe part of it was just some ridiculous initiation ordeal, she didnât know. But she did know how important this was to him, and that he suffered all of these things willingly, for the sake of making things a little bit better in Kirkwall. Who was she to cast shade on that? He knew the risks, and he had to know that she cared for his health, and so she swallowed the words instead of speaking him, that her concern would not be one more weight on his shoulders.
They wouldnât be bearing a whole lot of physical weight for a few days, that was for certain. Something had stabbed into the weak spot underneath one of his pauldrons, and though she had repaired the muscle as well as could be done in one session, he would likely be very sore for a week or so, and not fully functional on his left side for at least another day. She prodded gently at the spot with surprisingly-strong fingers, infusing a little bit of magic into the touch to try and loosen the tight knot around the injury, kneading the flesh as gently as would still be effective. The more relaxed it was, the less it would pain him the next day.
Sighing through her nose, she picked his slightly-bloody shirt up off the counter and was halfway through the motion of handing it to him when she brought herself up short and wrapped herself around him from behind instead, propping her chin on his head and draping her arms loosely around his neck. She didnât say anything, for fear that whatever she attempted to say would come out as the words she was avoiding, instead. The shirt still hung loosely from the fingers of her right hand.
He reached up with the hand on his good arm and squeezed one of hers trying to comfort her. She was worried and for good reason. What he did was dangerous, but it was a risk he was willing to take. He felt guilty for making her worry like that, but they both knew why he did it. It wouldn't be easy for him to rise through the ranks, made even harder by his personal relations. But he wasn't going to trade one for the other, he wanted them both, and he would work that much harder to keep them. He would give the guard no choice but to recognize his actions and diligence, even if he had to drag himself into Nos's clinic bleeding deep from the shoulder.
"I should've seen him," Ashton admitted, squeezing her hand tighter. Snuffy and he had taken a patrol deep into Lowtown and run afoul of a gang. While most were felled by his arrows, one had managed to slip away and before he noticed, had slipped a dagger into his back. Snuffy sank her teeth into his leg and let Ashton finish him with his sword, but the damage was done. It hurt, but at least that part of Lowtown was safe for the time being. "Next time, I will."
Amalia was unaccustomed to being unable to figure things out on her own. Generally speaking, she had only to recognize the need to understand something, make the requisite observations, and things would properly arrange themselves for her. She was quick to grasp and understand new things. The problem was in this case that she intellectually understood the concepts she was wrestling withâbut she did not know what they meant to or for herself. The facets of this culture she was now trying to integrate herself into that she wrestled with were things that had always carried firm mental labels of human, or some other thing that she did not consider herself to be. Non-Qunari, in the broadest cases. This had closed them off from the need for further perusal. As long as she could get along well enough to draw no ire, it had been enough.
Now, it was not. If she wanted to understandâreally understandâwhat family was, she had to observe families, ask questions of them. If she wanted to understand love or social structure or any of those other things, she had to see them. Not only seeâapprehend. It was proving most difficult.
Deciding that it would be best to treat the topics one by one, she would begin with the one that had emerged prominently from her discussion with Ithilian. To this end, she needed to speak to someone who understood love. Of course, she supposed kadan understood it very well, but it was clearly something difficult for him to talk about, and there was something fraught, almost uncomfortably so, about discussing the subject with him specifically. She meant to see of this generalized, and she would need another case for that.
The obvious choice was Nostariel, and so it was to the clinic that Amalia directed herself. Given that it was a public location in the middle of the day, she didnât exactly expect that knocking was a norm she was obligated to observe, and so she didnât, entering rather noisily for her, which was still pretty quietly for anyone else. She brought herself up short, however, when she observed what was going on.
An eyebrow ascended her forehead. âShall I return later?â
Nostariel straightened, draping Ashâs shirt over his good shoulder and giving Amalia a smile. âNo need.â She appeared not in the least concerned about her friendâs presence, and indeed she wasnât. While she would readily admit she was quite⊠girlish, in some ways, this wasnât one of them. Maybe it was the healer training. âIs there something I can do for you, Amalia?â
Well, if they were unconcerned, then so was she. It wasnât like she was a cleric, just a Qunari. At the question, however, she fell still and quiet, contemplating the question she actually wanted to ask before she took one of the many chairs available in the front room of the clinic. She felt a bit of preface might be called for, else she seem to be broaching the topic too abruptly. Once, this would not have been of any consequence. She cared more now for the comfort of other people than she recalled ever having done before. âI am not sure,â she admitted. Amalia felt that if anyone would have a satisfactory answer for her on this point, it might well be Nostariel, but that didn't mean her hopes were high.
âI am⊠trying to learn more than I have before of the ways in which people live.â People wasnât quite the term she wanted, but she couldnât say humans when this was something they seemed to share with everyone but her people. âSome particular concepts elude me more than others. Ones the Qunari do not have.â She gestured between the two of them as an example, a fairly obvious one, honestly.
âWhen Qunari couple, the only purpose is procreation. Or recreation, if it is⊠necessary. The bonds are clinically formed and broken once their purpose is served.â For some, like herself, it never had been necessary, nor arranged, but that seemed a bit beside the point. She didnât think additional carnal knowledge would be of any help in this matter. âBut that is⊠not always the way of it here. For you, this means something else. I do not understand the something else.â
"Love?" Ashton asked, looking between Amalia and Nos. "The Qunari don't... Love?" He asked, sounding confused. "That's kinda sad," he said, looking over at Nos as he slid his bloodstained shirt on. He would have to run by the shop to get a replacement before returning to the Keep to deliver his report. But he had time to burn before then. "How do you even explain something like that?" Ashton asked. It was strange notion, to explain something that was easy to feel, but harder to understand completely. He decided to let Nos try first.
âWe love,â Amalia countered. âIt is just that love and sex have nothing to do with one another, for us. I do not understand how two things that are to me completely different are so⊠entwined for you.â It was like telling her that the concept of the color red was somehow bound up in the concept of being blue. They were just completely different colors. Certainly, there could not be blue reds, and if you thought there were, you turned yourself in to the reeducators.
"Oh," Ashton said, a red blush bleeding into his cheeks.
Nostariel contemplated it a great deal before saying anything. It was a matter of great importance, that much was clear. Perhaps for reasons Amalia herself did not fully understand, but Nostariel believed she glimpsed. It would certainly be bad to give her a poor understanding in any case. Pressing her lips together, she took a seat next to Ash and across from her friend. âWell, the bridge is romantic love, I think. Thatâs whatâs missing from what you describe. It seems to be oversimplifying, though, to say that romantic love is just friendship plus sexual desire.â In sharp contrast to Ashton, she accepted the topic of conversation with relative ease, and that was definitely healersâ training. Sheâd heard enough stories, seen enough unclothed bodies, and prescribed enough potions that all the embarrassment was long gone from her when speaking about such things.
âThough both are certainly involved.â She smiled slightly, flicking an amused glance at Ashâs face before resuming her more serious manner. âI think that the love youâre asking after is a little different for everyone, which is why it will be difficult to describe in general terms. But I think it is some measure of both friendship and desire, in different proportions for different people, but also⊠something that makes it more than the sum of those parts. Something likeâŠâ Nostariel chewed her lip, trying to think of how she wanted to say it. Or even what she wanted to say, really.
âA lot of little things, and some big ones. Wanting to be near them, more than you would a friend, but in a different way than a casual partner, for one. Finding that the way you perceive them changesâthings that before might have irked you or at least you were indifferent to now seem more positive, endear them to you. You want the best for them, and to expect it from them, but are willing to forgive them when they donât quite make it there. I donât know, am I describing this right?â She looked up at Ash.
"Mostly," he said with a smile, his hand slipping into hers. "They make you feel like your feet are about to lift off of the ground, that your belly's full of butterflies and your head spins when you think of them. They make you feel better, and they make you want to live you life better than you ever have. They make you want to be better. You want to live up to their expectations and never ever let them down. It makes you want to stand beside them and weather the storm, whatever'll come. There's no more just you or them or anything, there's just us. You're more together than either would be alone." Ashton laughed, his arm twitching before he grimaced in pain. He meant to run a hand through his hair, unfortunately, the arm that hand was on was the one that Nos had just repaired.
"It's not something you can really explain, I don't think. We're just listing off the, uh... Symptoms I guess?" he told Nos, internally pleased with the bit of cleverness. "It's something you have to feel to really understand. It just sorta... Happens, you know? It was like trying to explain color to a blind man. You could list off the objects that had that color, but it still wouldn't matter because he still wouldn't know what color was. One had to see it to truly understand. "That... Something else is just that. Something else. Not everything can be explained, but that doesn't mean it's not there," he said, squeezing Nos's hand.
âI see.â That wasnât exactly a false statement, but Amalia wasnât sure of its truth either. Still, that had been more helpful than anything sheâd been expecting to get. Not because there had been more reasons or features, but because even in watching them answer, she was perceiving commonalities in themâabout how they felt this thing they were trying to describe. Perhaps it was indeed something that could only be felt, but if the precise problem was in wanting to be able to identify such a feeling when it was encountered, that was not going to be of much assistance.
But she could work with the understanding she was developing. Amalia thought that the interpersonal phenomena would understand might help fill in the social phenomena she understood even less. For that purpose, she was sure this would do. For anything else, well⊠she would have to keep thinking about it. For once, she had a great deal of time for that kind of thing.
Glancing back and forth between them, then down at their hands for a moment, she nodded. âThank you both. I am not sure what the right words are, but⊠I hope this ends favorably for you.â Rising from her seat, she took her leave in much the same manner as sheâd arrived.
âWell. That was unexpected."
They wouldnât be bearing a whole lot of physical weight for a few days, that was for certain. Something had stabbed into the weak spot underneath one of his pauldrons, and though she had repaired the muscle as well as could be done in one session, he would likely be very sore for a week or so, and not fully functional on his left side for at least another day. She prodded gently at the spot with surprisingly-strong fingers, infusing a little bit of magic into the touch to try and loosen the tight knot around the injury, kneading the flesh as gently as would still be effective. The more relaxed it was, the less it would pain him the next day.
Sighing through her nose, she picked his slightly-bloody shirt up off the counter and was halfway through the motion of handing it to him when she brought herself up short and wrapped herself around him from behind instead, propping her chin on his head and draping her arms loosely around his neck. She didnât say anything, for fear that whatever she attempted to say would come out as the words she was avoiding, instead. The shirt still hung loosely from the fingers of her right hand.
He reached up with the hand on his good arm and squeezed one of hers trying to comfort her. She was worried and for good reason. What he did was dangerous, but it was a risk he was willing to take. He felt guilty for making her worry like that, but they both knew why he did it. It wouldn't be easy for him to rise through the ranks, made even harder by his personal relations. But he wasn't going to trade one for the other, he wanted them both, and he would work that much harder to keep them. He would give the guard no choice but to recognize his actions and diligence, even if he had to drag himself into Nos's clinic bleeding deep from the shoulder.
"I should've seen him," Ashton admitted, squeezing her hand tighter. Snuffy and he had taken a patrol deep into Lowtown and run afoul of a gang. While most were felled by his arrows, one had managed to slip away and before he noticed, had slipped a dagger into his back. Snuffy sank her teeth into his leg and let Ashton finish him with his sword, but the damage was done. It hurt, but at least that part of Lowtown was safe for the time being. "Next time, I will."
Amalia was unaccustomed to being unable to figure things out on her own. Generally speaking, she had only to recognize the need to understand something, make the requisite observations, and things would properly arrange themselves for her. She was quick to grasp and understand new things. The problem was in this case that she intellectually understood the concepts she was wrestling withâbut she did not know what they meant to or for herself. The facets of this culture she was now trying to integrate herself into that she wrestled with were things that had always carried firm mental labels of human, or some other thing that she did not consider herself to be. Non-Qunari, in the broadest cases. This had closed them off from the need for further perusal. As long as she could get along well enough to draw no ire, it had been enough.
Now, it was not. If she wanted to understandâreally understandâwhat family was, she had to observe families, ask questions of them. If she wanted to understand love or social structure or any of those other things, she had to see them. Not only seeâapprehend. It was proving most difficult.
Deciding that it would be best to treat the topics one by one, she would begin with the one that had emerged prominently from her discussion with Ithilian. To this end, she needed to speak to someone who understood love. Of course, she supposed kadan understood it very well, but it was clearly something difficult for him to talk about, and there was something fraught, almost uncomfortably so, about discussing the subject with him specifically. She meant to see of this generalized, and she would need another case for that.
The obvious choice was Nostariel, and so it was to the clinic that Amalia directed herself. Given that it was a public location in the middle of the day, she didnât exactly expect that knocking was a norm she was obligated to observe, and so she didnât, entering rather noisily for her, which was still pretty quietly for anyone else. She brought herself up short, however, when she observed what was going on.
An eyebrow ascended her forehead. âShall I return later?â
Nostariel straightened, draping Ashâs shirt over his good shoulder and giving Amalia a smile. âNo need.â She appeared not in the least concerned about her friendâs presence, and indeed she wasnât. While she would readily admit she was quite⊠girlish, in some ways, this wasnât one of them. Maybe it was the healer training. âIs there something I can do for you, Amalia?â
Well, if they were unconcerned, then so was she. It wasnât like she was a cleric, just a Qunari. At the question, however, she fell still and quiet, contemplating the question she actually wanted to ask before she took one of the many chairs available in the front room of the clinic. She felt a bit of preface might be called for, else she seem to be broaching the topic too abruptly. Once, this would not have been of any consequence. She cared more now for the comfort of other people than she recalled ever having done before. âI am not sure,â she admitted. Amalia felt that if anyone would have a satisfactory answer for her on this point, it might well be Nostariel, but that didn't mean her hopes were high.
âI am⊠trying to learn more than I have before of the ways in which people live.â People wasnât quite the term she wanted, but she couldnât say humans when this was something they seemed to share with everyone but her people. âSome particular concepts elude me more than others. Ones the Qunari do not have.â She gestured between the two of them as an example, a fairly obvious one, honestly.
âWhen Qunari couple, the only purpose is procreation. Or recreation, if it is⊠necessary. The bonds are clinically formed and broken once their purpose is served.â For some, like herself, it never had been necessary, nor arranged, but that seemed a bit beside the point. She didnât think additional carnal knowledge would be of any help in this matter. âBut that is⊠not always the way of it here. For you, this means something else. I do not understand the something else.â
"Love?" Ashton asked, looking between Amalia and Nos. "The Qunari don't... Love?" He asked, sounding confused. "That's kinda sad," he said, looking over at Nos as he slid his bloodstained shirt on. He would have to run by the shop to get a replacement before returning to the Keep to deliver his report. But he had time to burn before then. "How do you even explain something like that?" Ashton asked. It was strange notion, to explain something that was easy to feel, but harder to understand completely. He decided to let Nos try first.
âWe love,â Amalia countered. âIt is just that love and sex have nothing to do with one another, for us. I do not understand how two things that are to me completely different are so⊠entwined for you.â It was like telling her that the concept of the color red was somehow bound up in the concept of being blue. They were just completely different colors. Certainly, there could not be blue reds, and if you thought there were, you turned yourself in to the reeducators.
"Oh," Ashton said, a red blush bleeding into his cheeks.
Nostariel contemplated it a great deal before saying anything. It was a matter of great importance, that much was clear. Perhaps for reasons Amalia herself did not fully understand, but Nostariel believed she glimpsed. It would certainly be bad to give her a poor understanding in any case. Pressing her lips together, she took a seat next to Ash and across from her friend. âWell, the bridge is romantic love, I think. Thatâs whatâs missing from what you describe. It seems to be oversimplifying, though, to say that romantic love is just friendship plus sexual desire.â In sharp contrast to Ashton, she accepted the topic of conversation with relative ease, and that was definitely healersâ training. Sheâd heard enough stories, seen enough unclothed bodies, and prescribed enough potions that all the embarrassment was long gone from her when speaking about such things.
âThough both are certainly involved.â She smiled slightly, flicking an amused glance at Ashâs face before resuming her more serious manner. âI think that the love youâre asking after is a little different for everyone, which is why it will be difficult to describe in general terms. But I think it is some measure of both friendship and desire, in different proportions for different people, but also⊠something that makes it more than the sum of those parts. Something likeâŠâ Nostariel chewed her lip, trying to think of how she wanted to say it. Or even what she wanted to say, really.
âA lot of little things, and some big ones. Wanting to be near them, more than you would a friend, but in a different way than a casual partner, for one. Finding that the way you perceive them changesâthings that before might have irked you or at least you were indifferent to now seem more positive, endear them to you. You want the best for them, and to expect it from them, but are willing to forgive them when they donât quite make it there. I donât know, am I describing this right?â She looked up at Ash.
"Mostly," he said with a smile, his hand slipping into hers. "They make you feel like your feet are about to lift off of the ground, that your belly's full of butterflies and your head spins when you think of them. They make you feel better, and they make you want to live you life better than you ever have. They make you want to be better. You want to live up to their expectations and never ever let them down. It makes you want to stand beside them and weather the storm, whatever'll come. There's no more just you or them or anything, there's just us. You're more together than either would be alone." Ashton laughed, his arm twitching before he grimaced in pain. He meant to run a hand through his hair, unfortunately, the arm that hand was on was the one that Nos had just repaired.
"It's not something you can really explain, I don't think. We're just listing off the, uh... Symptoms I guess?" he told Nos, internally pleased with the bit of cleverness. "It's something you have to feel to really understand. It just sorta... Happens, you know? It was like trying to explain color to a blind man. You could list off the objects that had that color, but it still wouldn't matter because he still wouldn't know what color was. One had to see it to truly understand. "That... Something else is just that. Something else. Not everything can be explained, but that doesn't mean it's not there," he said, squeezing Nos's hand.
âI see.â That wasnât exactly a false statement, but Amalia wasnât sure of its truth either. Still, that had been more helpful than anything sheâd been expecting to get. Not because there had been more reasons or features, but because even in watching them answer, she was perceiving commonalities in themâabout how they felt this thing they were trying to describe. Perhaps it was indeed something that could only be felt, but if the precise problem was in wanting to be able to identify such a feeling when it was encountered, that was not going to be of much assistance.
But she could work with the understanding she was developing. Amalia thought that the interpersonal phenomena would understand might help fill in the social phenomena she understood even less. For that purpose, she was sure this would do. For anything else, well⊠she would have to keep thinking about it. For once, she had a great deal of time for that kind of thing.
Glancing back and forth between them, then down at their hands for a moment, she nodded. âThank you both. I am not sure what the right words are, but⊠I hope this ends favorably for you.â Rising from her seat, she took her leave in much the same manner as sheâd arrived.
âWell. That was unexpected."