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[prelest]

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crystal;

[notathreat]

Hi.

You're... Nina, right?

[There is a long pause. She sounds like she's determined, but having trouble stringing thoughts together.]

I'm Ellie. The provost has some orders for me, and I think you said something about being able to help people go to sleep?

[prelest]

I can.

[ Her voice is kind when she says: ]

You sound tired. Is it that you want to rest up before you head out?

[notathreat]

That would be great, yeah.

[There's a huge measure of relief in Ellie's voice.]

[prelest]

Where's your room? I'll meet you there.

[notathreat]

Mage tower, fifth floor, room K. It's about halfway down.

[prelest]

I'll be over in a few minutes.

[ And, indeed, within a few, Nina knocks on Ellie's door. ]

Hi, Ellie? It's Nina.

[notathreat]

[A few minutes gives Ellie time to stack the dirty plates, and to pick up at least a few of the things that have ended up on the floor. Enough that Nina won't have to step over things when she comes.

The young woman who opens the door doesn't look much like a would-be dragon challenger. But she's washed and wearing something clean, which is a damn sight better than she's been until now. Apparently having a goal helps.]

Thanks for this.

[prelest]

[ When you grow up among Grisha, you don't really use someone's stature or musculature as your guide to their level of power. So she doesn't pause at Ellie's slightness. And when you grow up among Grisha, too, you learn that how old someone looks often has rather little relationship to how old they are - and even less to how much they've seen of battle - so Ellie's youth doesn't give her pause, either.

Instead, she just comes in with a smile. This woman doesn't look like much of a warrior herself, either - not with those generous curves immodestly complemented by strategic tailoring, not with those tumbling chestnut curls or heart-shaped lips or coquettish green eyes. She looks soft and hedonistic, like she should be purring over bonbons instead of helping to prepare for battle.

But here she is. She has a cup of something in her hands that she holds out - mint and chamomile and elfroot tea, it'll be found, if Ellie gives it a sniff. ]

Anything I can do to help. What are your usual sleep habits like?

[ Nina makes her way over to Ellie's bed and sits, then pats the spot next to her to invite Ellie to join her. ]

[notathreat]

[Ellie's surprised most at the tea. It feels like a far more tender gesture than she's got it in herself to allow, but she makes herself take the cup. It's warm on her hands, and when she smells the mint her stomach flips over. God, it's so familiar, and Nina has no way of knowing.]

Thanks.

[Is all she manages to get out before she leads the way over to sit on the disheveled bed next to her. Obviously she's been trying to sleep but can't.]

Um. Like shit? Even before this.

[prelest]

I'm shocked.

[ That's lightly teasing. It's rather hard to look at Ellie, or generally be aware of Ellie's presence, and think this is a girl who sleeps well. And the room confirms it - stubby candles and built-up wax provide evidence of late nights. ]

Tell me about your usual rituals. When do you usually lie down? How long before you give up trying to sleep? Do you take anything? Drink anything?

[notathreat]

[Ellie's brow wrinkles at the teasing, lips parting like something in her is stirring but can't quite summon the will to come to the surface. A hint of a sense of humor buried deep under the lack of sleep and still-fresh grief.

She tries a sip of the tea and her shoulders relax, if barely. Her shoulders never fully lose their tension.

Nina is a surprise to her, but maybe she shouldn't be. She arrived in a warzone, saw people suffering and offered to help. Even if what she does isn't technically healing, at least as far as Ellie knows, she has that easy friendliness that disarms quickly.]

Usually past midnight sometime. Try to lay here for at least a couple of hours. Might get up again just before dawn, if I can't sleep. If I can get lucky I'll crash until past breakfast?

[She shakes her head.]

Nah. I might smoke some elfroot but that's usually with a friend, or just. For pain.

[Ellie slips that in like something kind of embarrassing, but gestures with her left hand, the one with the missing fingers. Her skin's littered with scars, especially her arms and hands.]

Old injuries.

[prelest]

May I?

[ Nina reaches out for that injured hand. It's an easy enough thing - hardly any exertion at all - to trace her fingertips over the skin and dampen the confused signals from the damaged nerves. The pain of a phantom digit is the nerves reaching out for what's not there. While the best thing would be for them to process their grief, sometimes just silencing them for a little while is enough.

These are horrible injuries, though. Not a clean amputation. Nina wonders, but doesn't ask. ]

What I'll be doing is adjusting the chemical balance in your brain. It's like what the healers here do - [ A lie, but the more Nina can spin the story that she's just doing what people here do the easier her life is likely to be - ] But a little more precise. I can extend it for as long as you'd like, but to go for longer than about twelve hours, I'll need to come back and re-adjust.

[ Her manner is warm and soothing. As she speaks, she's very much projecting the Wise Grisha Healer persona - soft-voiced, thoughtful, even a little maternal. Not really who Nina is, but also not not who she is. ]

[notathreat]

[Perhaps strangely, the feeling is familiar. The dulled sense of pain, despite the alertness of the rest of her body. Ellie's been on pain medication just a few times in her life, but it has a similar feeling. At least it's not like when Victor was sewing her up.

She hums under her breath, a touch of relief.]

I think twelve hours is plenty, for getting some sleep. And thanks- usually the only time my hands bother me is when I need sleep or get stressed.

[So, all the time lately.]

I'd like to ask you more about your magic. When we get back, if that's okay.

[Right now is unfortunately not the best timing.]

[prelest]

I always want to be talking about the Small Science. You don't have to ask me twice.

[ The thought does cross Nina's mind: if you get back. Ellie's being sent off to fight a dragon, right? That's what Nina has heard. And it's possible that here, dragons are cute fluffy little creatures who roll over when you approach them, but...

Well, it doesn't do any good to think about what happens if more people die. Everything is terrible; no need to daydream about it being even worse.

So. Nina scoots back a bit, onto the head of the bed, arranging herself to sit cross-legged. And she says - ]

But for right now - Go ahead and lay your head in my lap.

[ It's a very plush-looking lap. ]

[notathreat]

[Nina probably doesn't mean anything by it, but she arranges her lap and invites Ellie to lay her head there, and Ellie feels the flush go all the way up to her ears, down her neck.

She's darkened to an auburn through the years, but she still blushes like a redhead. It probably gives her away before she even speaks.

It's not Nina's fault that she's gorgeous, and under different circumstances, Ellie would probably very much appreciate it even if it's completely innocent. But:]

I've... got a girlfriend.

[And a lump in her throat, because technically she's dead right now. But it's a small detail that doesn't matter!]

She's one of the ones we're bringing back.

Not to like... presume, but.

[Awkward and sad!]

[prelest]

Oh.

[ Nina's eyebrows go up just a bit - not from offense, or from surprise to hear that Ellie is taken (honestly, it's reassuring that she is), or even a reaction to that blush. More than anything, out of sympathy for this particular tragedy. No wonder Ellie is so desperate to make this work.

So it's with gentle warmth, rather than offense or lasciviousness, that Nina says: ]

No. I adore a good flirt, but even under good circumstances I'm not going to trick you into something romantic and pretend it's medical. That'd be a breach of ethics.

[ Then, patting her lap to indicate the possible position, Nina says: ]

This is just to give me easy access to your head. And physical contact like this helps to start triggering some of the chemicals that help you wind down. Like snuggling with your mum. [ At least in theory. Nina couldn't exactly attest to that. ] We can do it another way if you're not comfortable, though.

[notathreat]

[Ellie relaxes by degrees, helped along by the reassurance. It's awkward of her to presume anything, but lots of women like to be physically close and affectionate with other women, and to Ellie it always feels uncomfortable. Like they'd make different decisions if they knew Ellie was into women.

She doesn't smile, but her face softens a little. She nods.]

Let's do it another way.

[She knows she doesn't need to explain, but Nina's helping her. She owes her this much. She's not going to say I never snuggled with my mom, or I'm not great with being touched by strangers, but she figures that her general bearing might telegraph that.]

Touch doesn't... help me relax. Not with most people. Sorry.

[prelest]

Oh, saints, don't apologize for that.

[ There's wryness in her smile and just the slightest hint of scolding in her voice when she says that. But a warm sort of scolding. Fond. Sisterly, is what Nina is going for. Ellie's not going to relax if she's anxious about some sort of infidelity, after all, so Nina does her damnedest to tone down her natural allure (a massive effort, given how alluring she always is, so on and so forth) and instead project a general air of steady and thoroughly non-romantic warmth. Look, I'm not touching you, and also I'm not judging you, and as a matter of fact I'm here for you, and all this love is totally non-conditional. ]

Your heart is your heart. We can't control our fears any more than we can control our loves.

[ Nina scoots aside and makes room on the pillow. It's going to be hell on her back to stay stooped over and twisted around to keep her hands near enough to Ellie's head, and it's going to be a lot more taxing to do this without making skin-to-skin contact. But the hardest thing of all is forcing the heart to change. Fear, anxiety, discomfort - all these release a flood of chemicals that keep you alert and on-edge. And that would make this task impossible. ]

Thank you for saying something.

[notathreat]

[Ellie doesn't like to think she's obvious about it, but she checks Nina's face despite her reassurance, the hesitation telegraphed. She doesn't want to be burdensome when she's already asking a favor.

Not out of politeness, really. It's just plain survival. Nina's take on fear is comforting, and her reassurance helps, but Ellie is clearly not used to hearing that.

Or perhaps nowadays she is, but the people who taught her that are now far beyond her reach.]

'Course.

[Ellie settles down on the bed with her head on the pillow and her arms crossed across her stomach, and tells herself to relax. It's hard. She's wired despite being utterly exhausted, and to someone with Nina's abilities it'll be more than obvious. Without her, she'd be in no fit state to continue doing her job, let alone fight a dragon.]

[prelest]

[ Nina sits beside Ellie. She isn't touching, but she's near enough that Ellie can smell her perfume - a scent deliberately selected, lavender and elfroot and other herbs of relaxation and tranquility.

The first pass of Nina's hand over Ellie's body is simply sensing, monitoring. It's clear enough at once that she's stressed, and likely has been for a very long time: Nina can't explain it, precisely, but there are ways that the chemicals sit in the body that are habituated rather than reactive. Horrible for the person, but also particularly difficult for the Grisha treating them. Just like it's easier to control floodwaters than it is redirect a river that's sitting in a well-formed riverbank, it's easier to deal with a new reaction than an accustomed one.

Easy things first. The physical symptoms of that toxic cocktail. Nina brings down Ellie's heartrate. And then she loosens up the muscles that are tightened and knotted, unpicking them like you'd untangle a ball of yarn: first the muscles that are used to contracting and relaxing (the arms, the stomach, the legs), and then the muscles that might not have unclenched for months (the back of the neck, the shoulders, the lower back, the scalp, the jaw.)

Some Healers sing lullabies to the people they're helping while they work. However, since Ellie has been through enough pain and trauma as it is, Nina abstains from doing that. Instead, she says to Ellie, voice soft - ]

Can you tell me a story?

[notathreat]

[It's always unnerving at first. Her body changing, veering away from how she expects it to act. Her heart slows with all the chemicals easing up to let her muscles relax. This is particularly difficult. Ellie carries pain and tension in a lot of parts of her body, honed for responding to threats with violence on a dime. Grief, etched deep.

The best Ellie can do is try to remain neutral. To let go. Even this is an intense effort. She's used to pushing until she literally cannot go any farther, not in intentionally stopping to take care of herself.

She's silent for a few moments in response, but it does provide a distraction. The stories she immediately thinks of are sad, upsetting to others even if Ellie finds them uplifting. Encouraging. With her eyes closed, she goes back and back and farther back, because the memories that are edged in warmth aren't so much stories as they are moments in time. They're not exciting. She could tell stories that aren't about herself, probably- but those would require a lot more concentration than she has available. Finally, she finds one.]

I didn't have a family or anything, but I had Joel. He was this... old smuggler. Taught me most of what I know. For a long time it was just him and me.

When I was fourteen, he finally taught me how to swim. We were out at the dam and it was springtime. Still kinda cold. Okay in the sun. He was showing me how to float on my back. How to push the water with my whole arm.

[She remembers that day. The restfulness of the water, his steady, comforting hand on her back. The moment she let go of her nervousness and realized he'd stopped lifting her, that she was doing it on her own.]

We got out of the water and went to go get our stuff, get a fire started for lunch. I was by the horse, and a bear came out of the woods. Young-ish, probably just hungry. Joel got his gun and told me to get back, started yelling and shouting at it. Shot at it, once.

And then it charged him.

I didn't know it was bluffing. But I didn't think. I yelled at it at, and charged at it from the side, like I'd seen Joel do, 'cause I wasn't gonna let it get him. I shot at it, too, grazed it pretty good. I guess two people were two much for it, and it ran off.

Joel was so ticked about it, but only 'cause I scared the shit out of him.

[There's immense fondness in her voice, even if it carries a quiet layer of loss.]

[prelest]

Mm-hm.

[ Nina is only half-listening, most of her concentration taken up by this work. Saints, it's harder than it was back home. She had limits there, to be sure, but it took many, many times longer to hit them than it does here. Here, she's barely started and already she feels a little faint.

But she keeps going. The glands producing cortisol and adrenaline are soothed and quieted; she coaxes them into reducing - if not, of course, stopping - their output. It's all right, she says to those noble little machines, so desperate to protect the body they're in, even to the point of destruction. You can rest. ]

Do you have other stories about him?

[ Because the swell of love that had gone through Ellie upon beginning to speak of Joel had been palpable. ]

[notathreat]

Lots.

[Her voice is quieter now. She casts back through her memories, finding the small moments. The vignettes of warmth buried in everything else.]

For my birthday, he brought me to a museum so I could sit in the command module of a rocket. He found a tape of the Apollo 11 launch.

[She has no idea whether Nina knows what any of those things are, but she can feel herself fading, her grip on reality getting fuzzy. Some part of her tries to panic, but can't. It's like drowning but without the pain.]

[prelest]

[ Nina hums again. She doesn't prompt more storytelling, because with just a few more gestures of her fingers, Ellie is dispatched into a deep sleep. Not a dreamless one, but ideally a sleep of forgettable dreams, because - without someone intervening - she's unlikely to wake again without someone intervening.

Nina rises, and then goes over and slumps into a chair, letting out a sigh of utter exhaustion. She feels grand, of course, like she always does when she uses her power - but it's a tempered sort of joy, like the weariness after you've spent all night dancing.

But the rest gives her a chance to look at Ellie sleeping. Poor thing, she thinks to herself. This whole plan is utterly insane, and it's impossible to think it's going to succeed. And Ellie seems like a girl who's had a lot of heartbreak. Nina just hopes this won't crush that poor heart of hers.

A few moments, and then Nina hauls herself to her feet with a little groan. Time to climb way too many bloody stairs. ]

crystal.

[cozen]

Mademoiselle Zenik?

[ He doesn't wait for a response; the nature of crystals means she may very well not be in a position to answer straight away, and it'll serve him just as well if she isn't. ]

Thank you for trying to look after me during all of that mess. [ It has now never happened. But on the other hand, yes it did. ] If I'd had more sense I would have cooperated more.

[prelest]

Oh, Monsieur Bastien.

[ She answers in easy Royan-accented Orlesian. She's progressed quickly. ]

I really should be the one saying sorry to you. I really was being a dreadful - [ Oh. Hm. She comes to a word she doesn't know, and so she switches back to Trade for: ] Arsehole.

[cozen]

A little,

[ is more than he would usually agree with someone making that statement, but usually people did not magically manipulate his stomach without permission. ]

But I started it.

Your accent is very good. You sound ready for the city now.

[prelest]

You did start it.

[ She agrees. And that's the end of it, it seems; she apparently doesn't have much interest in rehashing all the painful details, and instead just accepts his apology, and hopes he accepts hers. ]

But - thank you. I've been working on it. Even though I know working on Orlesian isn't as important as working on Tevene - but it's easier to find people to help.

[cozen]

We do love when people learn our language.

[ That's an imperialism joke. ]

Have you talked to Benedict Artemaeus about Tevene? He used to offer lessons.

[prelest]

Oh, yes! He’s been lovely.

[ “Lovely” is a sentiment not often applied to Benedict. It might lead one to wonder precisely what their dynamic is. ]

But it’s much better to have a few different people to speak with. You don’t really learn things well from just a single person.

[cozen]

The Commander is Tevinter.

[prelest]

[ Oh! ]

I hadn’t realized! He doesn’t seem it. He’s likely too busy to take time out to give me lessons, but everyone has to eat dinner sometime, right? And make conversation during it?

[cozen]

You would think.

[ Wild concept, though, to eat dinner with Flint. And talk to him. ]

He may or may not speak the language, though. I think it is hit or miss among the Tevinters who aren't academics. But that means you only need the accents to pass.

[prelest]

The Altus speak it, though. Many of them.

[cozen]

A fair few only know the swears.

I don't mean you shouldn't learn it, of course. Only that if you have the accent down, you don't have to have the language perfect to be useful.