Someone or something keeps poking around the edges of my dreams. I imagined a "dome" around them, unbreakable colored glass. I don't know whether it's a demon or Sir Elvhen Glory, but either way, I don't want it in. I worry that I know too much for Mr. Glory to be comfortable with my survival, and I really don't feel like playing with demons.
I woke up with the dawn. Again. What happened to sleeping in? I used to do that all the time back home. Anyway, when I got up and tiptoed out, I saw the CUTEST thing. Garalen's going to shit bricks. She's on her belly, and has her arm hanging down from her cot. The cute part is it's under Andrew's shirt up to the elbow. He's on the floor between her and Eadras. I wish I had a camera. Or could draw.
Okay, you know I can't leave well enough alone. I leaned down, touched his shoulder, and whispered, "Don't move" to Andrew. His eyes opened and I shushed him. I pointed to his chest. "Don't move." I moved to Garalen. I called her name softly, and she stroked his chest as she woke. I softly asked, "Is there a reason you're molesting our resident Templar?" She jerked her eyes open and tried to sit up, but was trapped by her arm. She ended up falling on top of him. It took a few moments for them to disentangle, and I think Andrew was NOT helping.
I hightailed it out of there, laughing. I had the day off, because shit duty is nasty. I decided to take breakfast in the tavern. Sera wasn't there. Flyssa kindly told me all about how Inquisibabe met with someone who wants to be hired on as a mercenary crew. So he took Viv, Sera, and Cass out to go take a look yesterday while I was knee deep in a cesspool. I missed seeing Krem. I have a major sad about that. Well, hopefully they'll hire on and I can meet him in person then. The Iron Bull, too, of course.
Breakfast was real eggs and real ham! Well, I'm assuming real ham. Tasted like real ham. Anyway, was good. Ran back to Ethelathe for school, but left again after. Popped in and complimented Cook on breakfast. Asked what Master Tethras' favorite treat was. She pointed at what looked like blueberry pastries with cream cheese. Should have known he'd like sweet mixed with tart. With permission, I grabbed two and headed out to apologize to Varric.
He was standing near his fire, staring at the sky. I stepped up next to him. "The Herald and I talked for several minutes about how it was both very beautiful and very deadly." He sighed and nodded. I held out the blueberry tart. "It's a peace offering. I'm sorry if I offended you or did anything to hurt you the other day, or any of the other days, actually, Master Tethras."
"I'm not used to people treating me like someone to be avoided or feared. Why do you?" He took the pastry and leaned his back against the wall as he took a bite.
"You won't believe me, and whether you did or not, there's every chance I'll either end up in a book or you'll tell people something that will get me hurt or killed."
"You think I'd do that?"
"Not on purpose. You have an ear for stories, and you tell them well. Is it not fair of me to be concerned about my own story?"
"I'll not say anything or write anything public without your permission. Does that help?" He looked sincere, so I nodded.
"I won't talk around here, though. Except, you know, generally."
"You cleaned the privies yesterday, didn't you," he stated.
"I don't generally make a habit of lying," I replied.
"See, now that's what I mean. You never give a straight answer. You're as bad as Nightingale sometimes."
"You've talked to me a total of three times, Ser Dwarf. How would you know?" I smiled.
"See? And I told you to call me Varric." He looked at me. "I'm almost five feet." I must have looked confused. "Height. You asked. I'm almost five foot. You're probably barely five-one. You're overestimating your height. There's no way you're a full two inches taller than me. You really don't know how tall you are?"
I shrugged. "I told you I woke up in the healer's tent thirty-some days ago. When and where did I get the chance to measure?"
"Surely you knew before?"
"Care to take a walk? That's more crazy stuff that you're not going to believe, Varric." We strolled down by the lake again.
"You remembered your shoes this time."
"I did," I replied. "Leorah's been putting my outfits together the night before. She used to do the lady's maid thing. It hurt her to be moved to scullery. She's happier now in sewing."
"She had lots to say about you." He picked up a rock and skittered it across the lake.
"When did you get to talk to her? And skips don't count when the lake is iced over. No bet."
He grinned, a full on grin. "Darn. And I would have won, too. Leorah chatted with the Herald for a while."
"Yeah. It was really nice of him to apologize. I didn't expect that."
"You shamed him. He keeps talking about equality and everyone's welcome in the inquisition. Then, when his own quartermaster watches a girl get roughed up for bothering him and being scared by him, he doesn't even notice."
"Seggrit was the one who noticed. I was just the next pointy-eared person he saw."
"That's not how Seggrit tells it."
"You guys checking up on me?"
"You've gathered half of Haven into your own personal family group. Some of the elves are calling it an "open clan". You think we're not going to check?" He used quote fingers and everything on "open clan", looking at me expectantly.
"There are only 63 elves in Haven. That's not even a fifth of the population. And what's an open clan?" I picked up my own rock and skittered it across the lake.
"That's a terrible showing. You were right not to bet. So, what about the humans?"
"Seggrit, Harritt, Adan, Andrew, and Daniel. That's not that many."
He stopped and looked at me. "You don't know, do you." I didn't. He laughed, full-bodied. "This is priceless. I can't wait to see how this plays out."
"I know some humans have requested I do the rosters. I worked with two of them yesterday."
He abruptly changed the subject, still laughing. "Where are you from, Chrissy?"
"Virginia," I said.
"Never heard of it," he responded.
"I'm not surprised."
"There you go again."
"Fine. I'm from the mountainous portion of a state you've never heard of, in a country you've never heard of, on a continent you've never heard of, on a world you've never heard of. I had a home, and a family, and I woke up here and it's GONE. And I don't know if I'll ever get home. Where I come from, I've seen the kind of treatment the elves get, but that's not how it works at home. In my land, they separate people by skin color. Those with darker skin were and are treated poorly. My parents worked to see those with darker skin have the same rights and privileges as those with lighter skin, and significant progress has been made. I'm just doing the same here."
"Seems a stupid way to separate people. And you get positively loquacious when riled."
"That's what I think about the separation of Elves here. And I'm never loquacious." I stuck my tongue out at him. I picked up another rock. I put my will behind it and PUSHED. The rock went all the way across the lake and thundered into a snowdrift, sending up a fountain of snow. His eyebrows went up.
"Maybe I wouldn't win that bet."
"I cheated that time. I wouldn't cheat if we were actually betting." I took a deep breath. "I'd like to call you friend, Varric. I hope someday I can." I held out my hand and he grasped it.
"I think I'd like that, too," he said.
I looked at him. "How did you bet on the singing question?"
"Against. Most people can't sing for shit."
"It'll be a pleasure to take your money. Come get me next time Herald Handsome is in town. I'll give it a try."
"Herald Handsome?"
"The first time I got a good look at him, I only saw his unclothed rear and back before Scary Elf Dude slammed the door and terrified me." I shrugged. "It's a nice butt." I left Varric laughing and holding his side. I really do want to be friends with him. He's handsome, entertaining, smart, and funny. And insanely loyal if you prove yourself to him.
After lunch I headed to the Healer's tents. Celia wasn't there. That's the lady I invited to tea. I was told she was in bed, ill. When I offered to check on her, they pointed me to the multi-bed house near the Herald's. When I got there, she was lying on the far bed, covered in blankets and shivering. Her temp was through the roof. I thought she was asleep, but when I took my hand away from her forehead, she said that it felt nice, and to please don't go. She didn't bother to open her eyes.
The bucket next to her had the remains of her breakfast, partially digested. The room was dark and closed up. Do healers here not bother with sick people or did they assume it was something small? I grabbed the bucket and washed it out with snow. More slush than snow, now. It really is getting warmer. After cleaning up the room, I opened the windows. Sticking my head out, one of mine spotted me asked what I was doing. I told him there was a sick lady in here just left alone, and asked for some clean linens and blankets for the bed and a bowl and cloth. He ran off.
He came back a few minutes later with everything I'd asked for as well as some weak broth, a pitcher of cold tea, and a stool. After thanking him, I set to work. Her covers were soaked through, so I changed them out. I pulled off her clothing, too, before covering her more lightly.
Garalen showed up in the door. Of course. When I glanced up, she said that if I got sick, she wasn't tending me. She volunteered that potions don't work on illnesses, and mages can't heal them, but that people tended by mages tend to survive. I figure that magic heals damage, and illness is doing minute amounts of damage. Nothing to really heal at any given time, but healing periodically will improve the person's chances. Just guessing, though.
I sponged her off, to make her feel better. Cleaner, at least. Her fever was less by then, because cold works that way. When I left, she was covered up again in fresh blankets, though not as many. The tea and the broth were left on the stool next to her. A freshly cleaned bucket was on her other side. The place was brighter, and smelled much better, because damn, people need to learn to clean. A quick wipe of the floor gets rid of the mud and blood. And these are supposedly healers? Germ theory, anyone?
Garalen walked with me back to Ethelathe cottage. "She's never going to know you helped her, and she's still going to hate you." I shrugged. She was less likely to die. "Chrissy, don't you even care that she would have gleefully reported your death the other day?"
"Not really. She wasn't feeling well, and I helped. It makes the whole place feel less spikey/hurty if people aren't feeling horrible. It makes me more comfortable."
"I don't believe you did that for selfish reasons."
"Hey, I can be as selfish as the next person. I'm inherently lazy. Get me to a place where I have lots of money, a home, and can eat bonbons on the couch without everything going wrong, and you're going to find me welded to that couch." I don't think she believed me, but I'm not lying.
The rest of the day was easy. Relaxed at home. Took a bath. Bathed the kids. What is it about kids that resists the entire concept of bath time? Made spaghetti for twenty-six. Two more moved into the tents out back. Put the Tweedles back in the bath, because food fight. Garalen and Andrew are studiously ignoring each other. It's been a good day. Goodnight, baby. I have no clue how long it'll take to get the breach closed right now. Depends on what the Herald does in Storm Coast.
I just realized I never told Varric how tall I used to be. Ah, well.