Guardian, 9:34 Dragon
Kirkwall
"Why do I let you talk me into these things?"
"Because you love me, kitten. Now shut up and put on the damn blindfold."
I grumbled but obeyed her, tying the strip of cloth into as tight a knot as possible, more than a little apprehensive over what Isabela had cooked up for my Nameday this year. It couldn't possibly be worse than strip-poker, but I was blindfolded.
Now, I do not like the dark. I especially do not like being unable to see. It makes me jumpy and my first instinct when touched when I can't see is to lash out. Previously in my life, this meant slapping and kicking. Now, it means lightning bolts to the face, which is decidedly more life-threatening.
Isabela is pushing and leading me out the door now, and I have to trust her not to let me run into any walls. Wait. I'm trusting Isabela with my well-being?
What has happened to my sanity?
I know when we reach the Hanged Man by the smell and sound of it—is it sad that I could probably navigate the first floor even with the blindfold on?—and Isabela is suddenly leaving me alone and I am blindfolded and not amused with the turn of events.
I grope for her in my self-imposed darkness. "Bela!" I hiss at nothing, trying to find her.
My fingers find purchase in someone's clothing and I desperately hope it's someone I know and not a total stranger. I try to find some clue as to who I just grabbed onto, but fingers grab my wrist before I can and I freeze. I know those fingers.
I'd know him even if he didn't just open his mouth and say my name, even though I didn't hear him. I know it from that buzz beneath my skin, that subtle spike in my pulse just from being near him.
Anders. Of all the patrons in the tavern, I have to start groping Anders.
"You're not Isabela," I blurt out intelligently, completely and utterly aware that he is still holding my wrist.
"Not last I checked, no," comes his amused answer. He's pulling on my wrist now so I follow him like a lost lamb, trusting him implicitly more than I trusted Isabela. And for good reason! She abandoned me while I was blindfolded.
"I'm really glad you're the person I grabbed onto," I admit as he's guiding me in the general direction of the stairs. I feel him tense and grip my hand tighter, but he doesn't say anything. "I mean, as opposed to some random stranger. Or Bela's chest."
He's still quiet, and I have a moment of clarity as I wonder where exactly I'd grabbed him for him to stop me so quickly. Before I have a chance to blush or think too hard on it, we're at the stairs and he's helping me up them so I don't trip on my face.
I cling to his arm like a lifeline and I really don't care if I'm making this awkward for him because I am blind and I don't like it. My knee bumps into a chair and I hear giggling that sounds suspiciously like Isabela—who was supposed to be helping me—and Merrill, and Anders is pulling my hands off his arm and keeping them outstretched in front of me.
Something heavy and fluffy and wiggling is put in my arms and I barely hear the cries of "Happy Nameday!" because the thing in my arms is barking and tears are streaming down my face from behind the blindfold.
I have a mabari.