When Nathaniel left Rosalie in Orlais, he was feeling relatively good. There had been some side effects, but he felt like he had a good handle on them. Not wanting to go back to Amaranthine and be fussed over by his friends there, he decided to head to Starkhaven to visit some old friends.
Since some of his friends were in the country outside of Starkhaven, after leaving the Starkhaven Eluvian he headed into the countryside. For the most part he felt great, until he didn’t any more. Suddenly he felt out of breath, sweaty palms and like he was going to throw up.
Stopping at a nearby tree, he leaned against it for support. Suddenly like a dam breaking, he felt himself getting sick. He thought that would be the worst of it, but then he still felt like he was getting woozier by the second, and suddenly the world went black.
Some time later, Nathaniel began to come to. He was confused because the last thing he remembered was getting sick and the world going black somewhere outside Starkhaven. Now he felt like he was warm and in someone’s bed. He groaned as he came to, trying to adjust his eyes to his surroundings.
Hello? He said, confused and still a bit out of it. Perhaps he’d left Orlais a bit too soon, but he was sure he’d felt just fine.
This trip had been one event after another, and while Ruth was used to meeting new faces on his travels, none of them were as concerning as finding an unconscious man in the woods.
In the grove, Ruth had tried his best to stabilise him, but when the stranger didn’t improve with his intervention the elf sought a change in location. They weren’t far from a settlement, but given the elf’s size, manhandling the feverish and unconscious man was best left to magic. Removing his pack and anything that could tangle, Ruth began making him as comfortable as possible taking a step back after to concentrate. Ruth would focus on the air around, dismissing the hangover pounding at his temples for the lull of his magic.
The man began hovering, reaching up about Ruth’s shoulder, and once the healer was satisfied the two would set off on the hike through the woods finding the village on the other side. The pair drew stares once entering though he paid little attention, only shifting the extra pack he’d carried to the ground once reaching the tavern.
By the time he got the lad into a bed, he’d finally barfed all over both of them, causing Ruth to cry foul. He’d almost pity the fool if he wasn’t about to hand him a handsome bill for the healers efforts. Ruth with the help of the tavern lass cleaned him up, and tucked him in before Ruth himself got a bath, paying extra for a little happy hour. He’d returned to the room, finding the sleeping beauty still shivering and shaking, despite Ruth’s infusion of magic. He’d slump into a chair, bone weary from the exertion and his activities to sleep a few hours.
Eyes opened to the sound of a voice, his charge, and while he remained curled in the chair, Ruth’s head rolled over towards the bed. “Ah, he awakens. I thoug-,” a yawn overpowered him, “I thought so. Got a feeling.” An uncanny thing. “Don’t panic either, I was a complete gentleman and I was supervised. Though if you fancy the wench, I do recommend.”
At the moment, Grim was too groggy to make heads or tails out of where he was and what was going on. As he rubbed the back of his neck, memories trickled back. He remembered feeling sick, remembered thinking perhaps he’d left Orlais too soon.
Um, last thing I remember is feeling sick. Guess I maybe left Orlais sooner than I should have. He explained, though it wasn’t exactly a good explanation, as he was leaving out crucial details. Like, why he’d left Orlais if he was still sick. Of course, sick wasn’t exactly what was going on, reality was so much more complicated.
I uh, thanks for making sure no one murdered me while I was out of it. The roads were full of assholes out there, and Nathaniel had his fair share of enemies. He pulled himself into a sitting position and properly looked around, then back at Ruth. I’m Nathaniel by the way but you can call me Nate.
Remaining in his chair, Ruth burrowed deeper into the cushion and blanket over him. His eyes fluttered closed, still awake and listening, but the exertion of the past week or so, along with the puzzling mystery of his patient’s ailment.
“Yes, leaving a place while suffering an illness is quite unwise,” the elf would grumble. “Any sane healer would have told you to rest, or encourage you to attend an examination by a physician or local crone.” It wasn’t as if there were a lacking of mages with the ability to cure basic ailments, yet his was not basic nor of the norm.
“Murderous impulses have we?” His single eye opened a fraction, grin curling slightly. It seemed to sharpen some as Nate shifted, sitting up to introduce himself. “Rut’theran, but Ruth is fine. It’s curious, this sickness of yours. I wasn’t able to sense what it was, nor was my magic much use… now that is puzzle. And I like puzzles.” His brow arched in silent question, unsure that any answer given would be true.
He winced slightly at the comments about how he should have taken better care, the problem was, he’d felt perfectly fine when he’d left Orlais to visit the Free Marches. It wasn’t until he’d gotten through the Eluvian and on his way to see his friends that he’d suddenly taken ill. He supposed there was no harm in telling Ruth exactly what was going on. It wasn’t really a secret, not any more at least.
I’m not sick, per se. I mean I’m a Grey Warden, so I’m blighted. As far as what happened to me, it was unforeseen side effects of an experimental treatment to stop the spread of the blight inside me. Not a total cure, but as close to it as Rosalie Rutherford was able to research. I’m her first warden test subject. He did his best to explain, it wasn’t his first time explaining it all, and probably wouldn’t be his last.
I felt fine when I left Orlais, but Rosalie assumed I was going back to Amaranthine with the other Ferelden Grey Wardens, but at the last minute I decided to head here and see some friends I hadn’t seen in quite some time. Not that he owed Ruth an explanation for why he was where he was, but it was what it was.
Elbows resting on his knee’s Ruth listened, hands clasped together in an easy cradle. The realisation he’d rescued yet another Warden had him scooting back carefully, the last encounter with his Order losing him an eye. Yet, he had experience with the blight, not much than understanding no usual magic could cure it, his curiosity outweighed his caution. Yet again, distracted by the shiny, new thing.
“Ah, so the side effects of it are, well, unknown. That raises an issue. You should not be over-exerting. You felt fine, but then suddenly collapsed? What if that was during one of your Orders missions?” Relaxing a little, Ruth eyed him carefully, seriously. “Experiments… their outcome is unknown, changes can appear years later. At least, for the first year, you should not over do it and have a companion with you. It might not be a healer who finds you next time.”
His tone may have sounded harsh, but it was perhaps a development his patient had not foreseen coming, and that he could forgive. Sighing, Ruth leaned back into the chair heavily. “Regardless, I got a good romp for appearing to do a good deed. We can call it even, Warden.” Again, a voice chided him, there were many wardens all over… he needed to spend less time around the Stoner, or maybe it was Willie, whoever, people were beginning to have an effect on his that usually unaccommodating stonewalling. “Forgive the coldness, last time I dare help a Warden, it cost me an eye. I’d rather keep this one if its all the same.”
Nathaniel nodded as Ruth spoke, he’d been foolish, but he hadn’t wanted to stay in Orlais like the medical experiment he was, and he hadn’t wanted to return to Ferelden until he had a better idea what his body was going to do. Seeing friends in the Free Marches had felt like a reasonable compromise, at least at the time.
Well I hadn’t intended to go back to the other Grey Wardens until I knew what was going on with me because I know they’ll have a hundred questions, and some won’t be happy with me for my choice. I have friends here in the Free Marches, friends I rarely get to see because of my Grey Warden duties, so I was headed to them. He rubbed the back of his neck, he was grateful Ruth had found him and taken care of him. Then Nathaniel tipped his head curiously as Ruth said the word warden and then apologised for the coldness.
Well considering the type of men that make up our ranks, I can’t say that I’m surprised. That’s the thing with the treatment, if this works, it could mean never having to recruit criminals ever again, fuck it means a lot of things, that is the least of which, but still….I’m sorry that happened to you. He said sincerely, he himself had been forced into the Grey Wardens all for stealing his family’s belongings back from them.
It was a tad hypocritical of the elf, he had tried performing surgery on himself once until the Stoner had interrupted him and took over. While he’d likely have been able to work on himself a second pair of hands and eyes helped wonders, and made far better margins in not marring his good looks further.
Still he could help but poke holes in the Warden’s logic. A cruel lopsided smirk spread across his face. “And… you think their questions would be any less, than now? With your galavanting and sudden unstable side effects? Really doing the Order credit there… and reaffirming my belief that they ought to rethink their joining standards.” The sarcasm dripped from his lips, though despite the harshness of his tone, it was clearly not directed at the man himself.
“It’s life. It’s amazingly unpredictable and unkind. I’m also an elf, so I’m doubly used to it. Toss in magic and the affinity to the grace of spirits - for some reason - and I’m triple-fucked.” Ruth’s smirk turned almost maddening, caught between glee and bitter understanding of the way of things. “In any case. It is in my professional opinion, that you need a butler, or a maid, whichever your preference just until your condition stabilises. Though… I hope you understand that may not ever happen.”
Well, I hoped less. They’d have less an invested interest in a cure for the blight, it wouldn’t impact them like it’ll impact the Grey Wardens. Some aren’t happy about the idea of something that would help them, especially coming from someone outside of the Grey Wardens. Rosalie being Cullen’s sister gave her a bit more respect amongst some of the Ferelden Grey Wardens, but not the other kingdoms.
The way Ruth talked about being fucked made Nathaniel think about himself, being a Howe in Ferelden after the events of the Fifth Blight had turned him into a pariah, even if he’d been in the Free Marches when his father Rendon had done those terrible things, no one seemed to care, especially the Ferelden Grey Wardens. Not that he thought his situation compared exactly to the plight of the elves or mages, it just reminded him that he was only a Grey Warden because of what his father had done.
I get that I probably need someone to keep an eye on me. I've been stubborn and maybe a bit reckless. I didn't expect the side effects to hit me so quickly, or so hard. Nathaniel admitted, rubbing his temples as he tried to shake off the lingering grogginess. And I understand that I might have to live with this for a while... or forever. It's a risk I was willing to take. Anything if it meant no longer being a Grey Warden.
Ruth couldn’t help but stare at him. “You are in one of the most secretive orders in all of Thedas. I mean, everyone knows what you do. Adamant nonsense and all, but you lot are as bad as the Chantry with secrets. The elves at least have an excuse I suppose.” Persecution from the other races had driven his people into hiding or secrecy during the dark days of war, now some of them chose to be penned like livestock in the alienages. Ruth had always been clear, he would never live in such a place.
Experiments were temperamental and while Nathaniel openly admitted his fault in not being cautious, Ruth couldn’t quite blame him either. “Good, at least you’ve prepared yourself mentally,” his head nodded firmly.
Ruth stretched himself out, back arching and limbs cast out with catlike grace before he pulled himself onto his feet. Yawning, he’d eventually tuck his hands into the pockets of his robes. “Now that the maid or butler chaperone has been established, I’m pointing out that it won’t be me. Unless you’re heading in the direction of Arlathan, then you’ll be needing to find someone, or a party to accompany you the rest of your way.”
Honestly I’m not far from my destination, I have some friends not far from here. My friend Coop runs this little out of the way tavern with his adopted daughter. They weren’t his only friends in the Free Marches, he had a lot in Starkhaven, but he saw Coop a bit like a father figure and wanted to see how they were doing.
I believe I will be able to manage the rest of the journey on my own, but I will take your advice to heart. Next time I feel unwell, I won't push myself to continue. I appreciate your help, Ruth. Nathaniel thanked him sincerely, feeling a bit embarrassed by his previous recklessness.
Excuse me? Ruth blinked slowly. Coop? Back Water, Coop? It was too small a world Thedas. At one time, he could go off into the wilds and meet literally no-one who’d know anyone, or anything about him. And he’d just stumbled upon his own Willie’s… Uncle?
He couldn’t help but snicker a little. Wouldn’t say Coop’s ever called her that, but, awrite. Wow. Small world. I know the place you mean and the folks there. It’s one of my regular stops.
Shrugging, Ruth nodded, pulling a hand out of his pocket to wave him off. Well. Now Coop’s gotta be nice to me next time I swing by… in fact, why don’t I just head there with you. Means I can actually see the old man’s face when you tell him. Ha! Oh he’d be sure to milk it too since he’d likely not have the sole attention of Wilhelmina, she’d likely want to catch up with her uncle.
With a laugh, Nathaniel agreed to Ruth's proposal. That sounds like a plan, Ruth. I'm sure Coop will have a kick out of it. And who knows, maybe your presence will make my explanation a bit easier to swallow. He began gathering his belongings, feeling a bit more hopeful about the journey ahead.
