castle_perrault | tossing and turning

dustless posting in

It seems that human food doesn't really do much for the SOUL.

Well, maybe it would if it had been special food. Frisk vaguely remembers hearing about food made by dear loved ones can help heal heartbreak, and that might be close enough to count.

But they don't really...have that right now. They just have castle-made candies and cakes and fruit, and while that was better than nothing, none of that stops the uncomfortable ache settled in their chest and pulsing through their body.

They also recall a little rabbit child talking about how sleeping could help with that. Well, sleeping in hotels specifically, but that rabbit had been in a hotel, and the castle could probably be called a hotel, albeit one filled with unwilling residents.

And so they quest to find a place to take a nap, without having to worry as much about being found by a particular troubled skeleton. They haven't given up on him, nowhere near it, but they'd like to be healthy when they meet again just in case. So their usual resting spot of "in the garden" was discarded, since it's right in the middle of everything.

As nice as it had been to be outside during it, their original plan--to hide out on top of a tower and catch a nap there--was foiled by the rain that came with the storm.

So Frisk carefully steals through the castle towers until they find one with a mostly-empty bedroom almost to the top, and try to rest there.

Key word: try.

The bed is very soft and comfortable, and they hover around the hazy edges of sleep for what feels like hours, but they never quite make it there. They're too worried about...sort-of-Papyrus. And Sans. And their friends they left behind, and their friends here, and just--everyone. They can't focus on a goal until they feel better, but they can't rest unless they stop worrying, and so they just cycle through thoughts over and over and over. And their low HP only distracts them even more.

So eventually, Frisk gives up and collapses into a soft-ish chair by the tower's window instead, watching the sky turn oranges and pinks, and a handful of stars appear between swaths of cloud. Maybe they'll be soothed to sleep by the prettiness of it.

[backdated in the castle's nebulous timeframe of after their 'fight' with S4 and meeting Thor, but before everything else.]

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From:

dustless

There's a voice they don't know at all. Frisk's head jerks up quickly, edge of fear cutting through their fatigue for the moment.

"What," they rasp, then cough. Maybe they should've stopped by one of the fountains first and scooped up a glass of water.

They clear their throat a few times. "Yes. I--hello. Don't know you. I think?"

From:

lightofthestars

Tauriel's eyes widen. At once, she is before the child in the chair, though she kneels so as not to frighten them.

"I am Tauriel," she says; her tone is of one focusing on something else. It sharpens as she goes on. "You are unwell. How has this come to pass?"

From:

dustless

They're startled anyway. Frisk is not in the right mindset for sudden closeness of a stranger, and they press themselves back into the chair.

And...Tauriel. That name actually kind of hurts to hear. They miss Toriel a lot, suddenly, and it's even harder to make words.

"'M okay. I just need rest."

From:

lightofthestars

She is frightening the child. She tries to gentle her tone and manner.

"Forgive me for surprising you. It was not my intent." She brings up a smile in spite of her worry. "What is your name?"

From:

dustless

Frisk stays where they are, though they try to smile back after a few seconds. It's a little watery.

"'S okay. Been...been meeting a lot...lotta new people here. I'm Frisk."

From:

lightofthestars

What a brave child.

"Well met, Frisk. Forgive me for my rudeness, but--are you Human?"

If she is some other type of being, maybe there is not the same need to worry. But Humans are fragile, Human children especially so--or so she hears. She has never before met one, after all.

Edited Date: 2015-12-20 11:15 pm (UTC)

From:

dustless

Huh. They've never heard that phrase before. It sounds old-fashioned and polite, though. They relax a little.

"Well met too," they return clumsily. They quickly cover their mouth to avoid yawning in her face. "Yeah, I'm--I'm a human. Is that weird?"

From:

lightofthestars

Tauriel shakes his head. "It is not...although I have met few Humans, and none who are children. But if you are unwell, that is grave news indeed.

"Tell me, what is it that pains you?"

From:

dustless

"...you haven't? What're you?" They might've been able to word that better. "Sorry. 've seen people who aren't, but they don't...they look really, really different."

Frisk shifts so they're sitting criss-cross-applesauce in the chair. "Not grave," they correct, even though it could've been, technically, but they're not going to think about that on top of everything else. "Just...just tired. Gotta sleep. Then I'll be better."

From:

lightofthestars

She blinks. She will never be accustomed to the idea of worlds where her people do not exist. "I am an Elf of Middle-earth."

She watches Frisk's movements with a sharp eye. "But you are still unwell. Humans are frail and need much time to recover from even small wounds. This I know. I have found few herbs that I know in this place, but still I may be able to speed your healing."

She rises. "Wait here. I will return."

From:

dustless

Frisk blinks in return, thinking of Santa's sort of elf at first. (They kind of recognize Middle-Earth somehow, at least the name, but they don't have the focusing power or even really want to dig through their thoughts to figure out where.)

They protest with "But I'll be okay," again, but it's halfhearted at best. Maybe it'll work.

From:

lightofthestars

She turns back in the doorway to say, "Maybe so, but that does not mean you should suffer needlessly," then leaves. Her footsteps down the stairs are only just audible, but Frisk will be able to hear that Tauriel is moving at a run.

It's very little time at all before Tauriel has returned, this time with a handful of flowers and leaves in her hands. With her comes a sweet scent that Frisk has almost certainly never smelled before coming here.

"Greetings, Frisk."

From:

dustless

Frisk gives a tiny wave at her return and zeroes in on the herbs. The smell is quite pleasant, but...no, they haven't smelled this before. It's another bizarre reminder that they're from very different places.

"Thank you. Should I...eat them raw?" They're not against it, but they're just not sure.

From:

lightofthestars

Tauriel's eyes widen. "No, do not! It is not meant to be eaten."

Once again, she kneels before Frisk and holds out the herbs for the child to look at. "This is lissuin. I did not expect to find it growing so far from its home, but I have seen it in the wood and tended by Grune in her garden. Its powers to heal are not as great as some herbs, and neither am I a healer," she says as an apology, "but I may be able to bring you some comfort.

"Can you show me where you feel the strongest effects of what has happened to you?"

From:

dustless

They listen as intently as they can, looking quietly apologetic. And then puzzled, because how do they explain?

"It's not like...a...bruise or a cut. It's like something inside my..soul, or heart, is too tired and hurts a little." They don't know what some herbs will do for that.

From:

lightofthestars

Tauriel sits back, a troubled frown upon her face. "My people are skilled in many healing arts, but restoring a wounded spirit is beyond our knowledge." She's silent, her lips tight, before coming to a decision. "May I try all the same? I am loath to give up without a single try."

From:

dustless

"It's okay." Humans aren't very good at doing that, either.

Frisk looks a tad uncertain, but--it might help. And Tauriel's being nice, wanting to help them at all.

"...yeah. Try."

From:

lightofthestars

"Very well."

She spends a moment thinking how to take on this task, then asks, "Will you take the lissuin and hold it against your heart?"

From:

dustless

They nod a little, still the smallest bit uncertain, and take it. They pause as the smell washes over them again, then very carefully--checking by looking up at Tauriel's expression to see if they're doing it wrong--sliding it under their shirt to press over their chest.

From:

lightofthestars

Tauriel gives a small nod to encourage Frisk. She then rises and lays her hands atop Frisk's head. She looks behind her to the starry heavens, takes in a breath, then gazes straight ahead, seeing in her mind past the confining walls of the castle.

"Great and merciful Valar," she calls. "Hear the cry of your child in a distant land. Grant your healing to this small, innocent one, and let them be comforted."

From:

dustless

Frisk lets their eyes slip shut. That seems like the right thing to do in regards to prayer, which is what this sounds like.

Valar. Another thing they've never heard of. They wonder if that god-thing can hear from this far away, if it exists.

In spite of their uncertainty, Frisk's breathing seems a little easier, and they feel a bit more calm.

From:

lightofthestars

At the signs of healing in Frisk, Tauriel's heart leaps in joy. She did not doubt the Valar and their compassion, but she had not truly been certain her healing skills were enough.

"Thank you, O Valar, for your mercy," she finishes, softer now. Only then does she remove her hands from Frisk's head.

From:

dustless

Frisk's lips twitch up. Hopefully it seems to be a grateful smile--which it is, in part, since they're glad to feel even the slightest sliver of less miserable. But they're struck by the word mercy, for reasons their exhausted mind won't really let them grasp.

"...thank you, Tauriel," they say belatedly.

From:

lightofthestars

Tauriel tries to smile for Frisk's sake, but she cannot help feeling as if she has failed. She knows so little of healing--only enough to bring comfort to her fellow Elves wounded in battle. If she had learned more....

"I am only sorry I could not do more for you," she answers with a small, unconscious shake of her head.

From:

dustless

"'Ve had worse and got better." Have they said that already? They're not sure. "It was...really nice you tried."

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