minor injury meme.

[estivates]

You or your meme partner has been hurt, but don't worry! This time around it's not that bad. You can still limp your way out of this mess.

INJURIES.
1. Sprain/strain. How did you screw up walking?
2. Broken bones. Simple fractures still hurt.
3. Cuts. Hopefully one of you has a sewing kit.
4. Burns. Location, location, location. Let's pray this one isn't on your ass.
5. Concussion. No, they're most likely not holding up fifteen fingers.
6. Other. I'm not a doctor.

HOW'D IT HAPPEN.
1. Stupidity. You did this to yourself.
2. Accident. Is an unintentional attack still an attack?
3. Attack. Don't lie, you deserved it.
4. Other. It's probably still your own fault.

WHERE'D IT HAPPEN.
1. Home. Did you remember to invest in a first aid kit?
2. School/Work. This should be excellent for getting you out of doing stuff!
3. Outdoors. Predators like the smell of blood. Clean up asap.
4. In the water. Hopefully there aren't any sharks!
5. Other. Like a hospital. That'd be handy.

Comments

[inquisitorialness]

[ The touch takes her a little by surprise - they're both careful about keeping a certain professional distance in public, to try and minimize the gossip. It's far from unwanted, of course, just - unusual. ]

Don't worry about it. [ They both know he can't promise not to come to harm. She wouldn't ask him to. But still - he's only been gone a few days and she sometimes felt like she needed to scream. ]

Is it like this for you every time? [ Every time she leaves. ]

[serves]

[He'll blame blood loss--or someone else's blood loss--if anyone dare bring this up to him.

Cullen gives her a grim smile.]

Every time. It's a wonder I haven't paced grooves into my floor from all that I do when you're gone.

[inquisitorialness]

[ She knows he worries, she's just never been in his position like that. She rarely has a chance to consider it, either, leaving frequently as she does at a moment's notice, able only to tell whomever is close by that she's leaving and where to. She keeps Skyhold updated as best she can, via raven, courier, agent, whatever is available.

She makes a mental note to try and send updates more frequently. ]

And you think I'm a saint. [ She says that in lieu of an apology, because what would she be apologizing for? Doing her duty, just like him? There's nothing either of them can do about it, except endure it. ]

Here we are. [ A healer jogs up to give him a once-over and help him get sat down on a pallet. ]

[serves]

[He doesn't want an apology from her. She is the Inquisitor and thus a very busy woman, and he himself is terrible at keeping his own family up to date on whether he's alive or not.

As he's eased into a sit, he bites back a yell. It comes out as a loud grunt.]

I'll be fine. You don't have to stay.

[inquisitorialness]

I know I don't. [ But she's going to anyway, for a while at least, until he's patched up. So she finds a seat, watching the healer work. ] I have some time. [ Time she was going to use to welcome him back properly. Preferably on his desk. There goes that idea. ]

[serves]

[Cullen says nothing more, giving her a much too affectionate look for the number of people in the general vicinity. He only looks away once the healer begins to work. Cullen's shirt is removed to expose the mess on his side--sticky blood smeared here and there, all from a small puncture beneath his rib cage. He swears and grumbles and grunts under his breath but keeps relatively still and quiet.

The more compliant he is, the sooner it will be over.]

[inquisitorialness]

[ It's nothing, really, just the Herald of Andraste keeping her commander company as he gets patched up. She nods at a few healers and wounded soldiers. She'll make a proper round of the infirmary later, when she's less likely to get in the way of medics trying to do their jobs and save lives. Cole is probably somewhere nearby, helping in his way, too. ]

How many lost?

[serves]

Not as many as I feared, but still too many. [Even one death was too many.] Once done here I'll finish the official reports.

[inquisitorialness]

[ Others may see his compassion for his men as a weakness, a liability. Not her. As far as she is concerned, it is their very compassion that sets them apart from the thing they're fighting. She said as much to Leliana.

And the way Cullen cares for them, just makes her love him more. ]

I'll drop by later to look at them. [ And make sure he eats. ]

[serves]

And to make sure your commander hasn't bled all over his tower. [He knows.]

[inquisitorialness]

That, too. I - the Inquisition needs its commander in tip-top shape. No one else could do what you do, so you'll have to forgive me if I hover a bit.

[ In a totally, 100% professional way, of course. ]

[serves]

I have always been fond of the job security. [As long as his own paranoia about lyrium doesn't get the best of him. His joke his punctuated with sharp hisses as the healer begins to mend his wound. He's had worse, but damn does it make his eyes sting.]

[inquisitorialness]

The soldiers would never stand for you being replaced. They'd replace me, first. [ She teases right back, trying to distract him from the pain a little with her lighthearted words, since it would be unseemly to take his face in her hands and kiss him all over, right out in public like this. ]

[serves]

[That gets a tight smile out of him, and then the next minutes are spent sealing the wound, cleaning the area one final time, wrapping a bandage around him, and giving him an ample supply of pain relievers.

By the time it's done, Cullen looks rather unhappy. Not about the fast treatment--there are worse wounds to fix--but just about the predicament in of itself.]

[inquisitorialness]

[ The Inquisitor, on the other hand, looks more than a little relieved to see him all patched up in clean bandages with plenty of healing poultices and elfroot and herbs for the pain. ]

See? It'll heal much faster now. Thank you for humoring me.

[serves]

[He allows his shoulders to slump just a bit once the healer heads off, looking at Nadia with tired, but appreciative eyes.]

Thank you for not allowing me to be stubborn.

[inquisitorialness]

[ Even like this, the look he gives her warms her to her toes. Many people look at her with reverence. Mostly it just makes her feel uncomfortable, like they expect things of her she probably won't be able to give. But Cullen is different. It's as though she's already everything and more to him, no expectations, just that respect and affection.

She would do a lot to make sure he never stops looking at her like that. ]

Is there anything more you need? We can walk back to your office? [ So she can give him a proper welcome-back kiss, at least. ]

[serves]

That's a good idea. [He's eager to get away from prying eyes. This time, he patiently waits for her arm.]

[inquisitorialness]

[ And she offers it, as much an excuse to touch him as anything else. Up the stairs is harder. There are so many stairs here.

Sometimes she wonders why they bother with so much discretion. She thinks most people know. Dorian knows for sure, his teasing comments about strapping Templars made that clear enough. She has no doubt Leliana does as well, and probably whichever of her agents discovered it.

She doesn't think most people care all that much. But she does. She knows she has to look, act, behave a certain way. She can't just be the giddy Circle apprentice with her first crush, no matter how much she wants to sometimes. ]

[serves]

[This time around his sounds of discomfort are quieter. News travels quickly in Skyhold, and he's sure the next time he walks into the War Room Josephine and Leliana will be watching him with their hawk-like eyes, waiting for the perfect opportunity to make some comment about his relationship with the Inquisitor. And his injury. And bed rest. Maker save him from these ruthless women.

He's a private man. He doesn't talk about his suffering with many, nor does he talk about his joy, though nowadays he knows that at least is becoming more apparent.]

I am not looking forward to the eventual climb to my loft.

[inquisitorialness]

[ Oof, that ladder. Right. An annoyance to climb when she's in a hurry to rip his clothes off - it will likely be very painful for him in his current condition. She winces a little at the thought. ]

Would my quarters be preferable? You know you're always welcome.

[ She murmurs that quietly as she helps him climb. It would mean a lot more stairs, and even more gossip than what's already being spread, but at least there wouldn't be a ladder, no concern over re-opening the wound. ]

[serves]

Your--? I... would not want to impose... [But his voice says he likes the idea.]

[inquisitorialness]

Don't be ridiculous. [ They are long past the point where he should be thinking he's any kind of imposition. ]

Besides, I have a fireplace. It gets chilly and damp in that loft, it can't be good for the healing process.

[serves]

If you're sure. [A fireplace does sound good.] It may be a few days until I can handle my tower...

[inquisitorialness]

I don't mind. [ She gives his hand a gentle squeeze, relatively confident that there isn't anyone near enough to notice.

She'd have him sleep in her quarters every night, if he'd allow it, if they could manage it discreetly, but they likely couldn't, it would be a little too brazen, possibly even for the decent folks of Skyhold. Oh, well. A girl can fantasize. ]