#caer’lise

[haverdoodles]

bloom 🌷

— (caerwyn & te'lise)

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a tender love blossoms.

these two have officially been freed from ties to both dragon age and bg3 :) and i am pleased to announce that they will soon have their own tale to tell!

[haverdoodles]

Sanctuary

— (Caerwyn & Te’lise)

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TW// brief descriptions of treating wounds.

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It was a quiet afternoon in Skyhold’s Apothecary.

The room was alight with the sun’s glow, turning the specks of dust floating past the windows into glittering gold. Te’lise might have admired it, as she admired all simple beauties in the world, had her attention not been so entirely focused on the comatose man currently lying in her bed.

His arrival the night before had been frightening and unexpected, heralded by a pounding at the door that had Te’lise lurching out of bed before her brain had even fully awakened. Bewildered, she had allowed a somber procession of ten Inquisition soldiers to come streaming in, at the front of which her patient was swaddled in a blanket and being gently carried. It hadn’t taken her long to snap out of her daze and into her Healer’s mindset, and she had ordered him to be set down on the heavy oak table in the middle of the room.

What followed was a long, exhausting, stressful night of trying to keep her patient alive. His right hand had recently been amputated after a battle wound had infected it beyond saving, according to one of his comrades, who had been filling her in as she rushed to and fro gathering armfuls of medicinal herbs and supplies. It seemed that the infection had now made a nasty reappearance, throwing his body into a state of sepsis. One of his comrades had found him lying unconscious outside of his tent, and they had immediately rushed him to her.

His name was Captain Caerwyn of Regiment Six, according to his worried companions. If he has a surname, they had no knowledge of it. According to them, he was a fine leader and an even finer gentleman, as well as their friend. It had taken much soothing on her part to convince them to leave her to work. It was clear that they cared a great deal for him, providing only further incentive for her to succeed.

Te’lise had spent the next four hours stabilizing Caerwyn’s condition. She had rubbed Royal Elfroot essence into the skin above his lymph nodes to reduce inflammation, applied cooling compresses to his forehead, neck, and torso, and placed a bowl of steaming water infused with Embrium extract nearby to clear his airways. Simultaneously, she had worked tirelessly at undressing his bandages, painstakingly cleaning out the infected mess that was his amputated arm, removing the necrotic flesh, sewing up the exposed tissue, and finally lathering the angry red skin with a soothing Elfroot salve. By the time one of the soldiers had managed to return with one of the free mages assigned to the Healing Ward, Te’lise had Caerwyn’s wounds cleaned and wrapped with fresh bandages. The mage was able to remove the infection in his blood after that, and he was successfully brought back from the brink of death.

Te’lise had proceeded to stay up at his bedside for the rest of the night and long into the morning, doing everything in her power to bring down his raging fever.

Presently, Te’lise sighed tiredly as she poured a fresh pitcher of water into the wooden bowl she had been using to wet cloths for his burning skin. Her eyes ached, her hands were shaking, and she had a headache that profoundly soured any bright mood she might have had on such a beautiful afternoon.

“Sylaise, preserve me,” she whispered into the silence of the room. “Falon’Din, have mercy. Let me save this man.”

A faint rustling came from the bed. Following it was a hoarsely whispered, “Is this the Beyond?”

Startled, Te’lise nearly upset the full bowl in front of her. She whirled and stopped short as her eyes met those of the wounded man in her bed.

“Oh!” She gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth.

The Captain blinked at her wearily, then slid his gaze around the Apothecary, taking in its cluttered interior with a hazy awareness. “Where…”

The sound of his voice snapped her out of her shock. “Hush, Serah, you must save your strength.” She hurried across the room to the tall shelf housing rows upon rows of vials of varying shapes and sizes, and selected one that she knew contained a healing tonic. “How are you feeling? Still feverish? Wait – do not answer that. Oh dear, you still seem so flushed… a cooling tonic too, then, perhaps…”

Te’lise shuffled over to the bed with an armful of vials and carefully placed them on the wooden stool beside the bed. When she glanced up, Caerwyn was watching her with the most peculiar expression. She felt herself flush, and offered a sheepish smile.

“Where am I?” He whispered hoarsely, observing as she worked at removing the stoppers of the vials.

“Well, certainly not in the Beyond,” Te’lise said warmly. “You are in Skyhold’s Apothecary. Your companions brought you in last night, when you were in critical condition.”

“Am I to presume… that you healed me?”

“I helped in healing you,” she acknowledged, raising the vial to his lips, “But I cannot solely claim credit for your recovery.”

“And yet you are the one who remains. For that, I am grateful.” He whispered, accepting the few mouthfuls of potion. Te’lise started at his words, and watched in surprise as the skin around his eyes crinkled in a faint imitation of a smile.

She took the vial from him and set it aside, searching his face. “How do you feel, Captain Caerwyn? Is the pain troubling you?”

“What I feel now is a blessing compared to the agony I endured before,” he assured her. “It is only—“

Caerwyn lifted his right arm and stopped abruptly, his face whitening. Te’lise followed his gaze to his amputated limb.

“Your hand had to be removed in order to stave off mortal infection,” she reminded him gently. “According to the Surgeon, it was the only way to save your life at the time.”

“I had forgotten.” He said.

There was terrible bleakness in his voice that squeezed at her heart. Without thinking, Te’lise reached out and gently placed a hand upon his shoulder. He stared down at it, then up at her with the expression of a man who was lost, and did not know how to find his way.

“What troubles you, Serah?” She asked him gently. Te’lise knew what troubled him, of course – she only wanted him to say the words.

Caerwyn exhaled, bitterly tossing his head back against the pillows. “What doesn’t? I am a soldier, a Captain in the Inquisition. I am to rally forces and lead warriors into battle under the Inquisitor’s banner. How am I to do this now that I am – I am –” He grimaced and turned his face away, but not before Te’lise caught a glimpse of the silver lining his dark lashes.

Te’lise watched him quietly for a moment, allowing him the time to compose himself. He was a strong, handsome man, she observed, and there was a gentleness in his face and demeanour that contrasted fascinatingly with his warrior’s physique.

‘What an interesting, beautiful person,’ she thought to herself, and began to speak.

“Did you know that I live with a chronic illness?” She said, and smiled when he looked over at her with a muted flash of surprise. “Indeed. It is a bit ironic, no? A sick Healer? I am also a mage, though most are never able to guess. This is because the illness that I live with prevents me from using magic extensively, for that would require more stamina and endurance than I physically possess. To do so harms me more than it helps.”

“But… is there not magic to…?” He asked tentatively.

“Perhaps there is,” Te’lise acknowledged. “But I have not encountered it in my lifetime. Perhaps I never will. Until recently, I had spent so long dreaming of a day when I could be cured. When I could be ‘whole’. That is how you feel now, isn’t it? You think yourself to be incomplete, because when mere days ago you had two hands, now you have only the one.”

“Yes,” Caerwyn whispered. “I cannot help it.”

“You are not incomplete because you are one-handed, Caerwyn,” Te’lise told him softly. “Just as I am not incomplete because I am ill. Someone wise once told me, ‘A tree does not derive its strength from its branches, but from its roots.’” She squeezed his shoulder gently, and whispered, “And now, just as a man does not derive his strength from his hands, but from his heart.”

She smiled at him as his eyes widened, patting the coverlet with her hand. “Your life will be a little different now, but it is far from over. Should you find the will to do it, you can ensure that your life is as rich and full as any other man’s, even one-handed. You are still capable of love, laughter, and thought. The sun is still shining, and the tall grasses still dancing in the wind. Shall we not enjoy these precious things while we can, instead of lamenting over what might have been?”

“You are wise, Healer,” he finally breathed, his jewelled eyes dancing across her face. “When but mere moments ago I was troubled, I now feel soothed. Can you heal with your words as well as your hands?”

Te’lise tipped her head back and laughed. “I used no magic here, Captain, only sound advice bestowed upon me by another.”

“Such modesty,” he said softly, and there was a tender, inquisitive note in his voice that made her face feel oddly warm. “Moments ago, you called me by my given name. ‘Caerwyn.’”

Te’lise blanched. “Ir abelas… that was entirely improper of me–“

“I took no offence to it, Healer,” he assured her, his eyes crinkling in a smile. “I only wanted to know your name in return.”

Te’lise lowered her gaze to the flowery coverlet, brushing a freckled hand over its surface. “My name is Te’lise,” she said softly. “Once, Te’lise Lavellan.”

“Te’lise,” he whispered, and suddenly her vision was filled by leaves dancing in the wind, and the sun’s glow as it bathed the sloping valleys of Alhan’amelan in golden light, the echoes of long-faded laughter caressing her face and falling away.

“I owe you my life,” Caerwyn said now, his eyes searching her face. “And now, I find myself thinking that I could not find a finer soul to owe my thanks to.”

Te’lise flushed and withdrew her hand, suddenly finding it difficult to meet his gaze. “You are very generous in your praise, Serah.”

Caerwyn cleared his throat. “I apologize. Normally I am not this… ah. Well. ‘Generous in my praise,’ as you put it.”

“Perhaps the medicine has loosened your tongue,” Te’lise said cheekily, and the two of them exchanged tentative smiles.

The months since Solas had left her shattered and bare in Crestwood had all but destroyed her, and her heart was only beginning to mend. But as Te’lise sat at her own bedside now, watching over the wounded man with gentle, jewelled eyes, she felt a knot in her heart hesitantly loosen, and a tender leaf on a barren branch began to unfurl.

In that moment, the world no longer felt as unbearable, and the realization made her smile.

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New oc :) 👀 the piece features Caerwyn’s pet wolves in the background, Alifalon and Alhannon. I hope to draw more of them soon!

[haverdoodles]

Belated Kiss

— (Caerwyn & Te’lise)

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Happy (belated) Valentine’s Day!! 🌸🌿🍓💞 this takes place at some point during the future :D