"Cass, you're being paranoid."
"You know, Hollyn... Seeker may have a point."
I turn around, hands on my hips, frowning at my two frightened companions. Only three days in the Emerald Graves, twenty minutes in the abandoned Chateau d'Onterre, and already a few shadows and creaks have Varric and Cassandra quaking in their boots. Not literally, of course, because it will be a bright day in the Black City before Cassandra 'quakes', but close enough to make them jumpy as Halla.
"Bull, do you see anything in the hall?" I ask.
The Qunari shakes his head. "No, Boss."
"Fantastic. Keep watch two doors down. Varric, Cassandra, loot whatever is behind those two doors. I'll finish up in here, then we can set up camp for the night."
Begrudgingly, Cassandra and Varric follow Bull from the bedroom, leaving me to rifle in peace. Orlesian villas aren't my party's forte, but abandon buildings are familiar enough that we've managed to clear this one in record time. Oddly enough, d'Onterre looks as if it hasn't been touched in years - not even by the Free Men who plague the area. Paintings are still in their frames; gaudy tapestries line the walls behind a thick coat of dust; even the silver candlesticks have yet to be pulled from the tables.
If one were to find any fault, it would be amongst the offices and kitchens. Papers are scattered about, making it difficult to piece together any semblance of a story. I started going through every file or desk I could find, reading it all - ledgers, sullied books, schematics - but so far nothing has turned up anything.
I'm about to exit the child's bedroom - a girls, by the looks of it - when a journal on the dresser catches my eye. Stepping up on the dais that raises the bed, I flip open the journal to a torn page.
...Cook's scared of me. She still calls me my sweets, but she's scared. Still, she hasn't told Father or Mother. She's afraid of me more than she likes them. I don't think Cook likes herself much either, these days.
I have a new friend now...
The hairs stand up on the back of my neck. I flip the journal closed, shutting my eyes for a moment. Perhaps something is very wrong here.
A blood chilling moan echoes just behind me, a soft, fleshy hand grasping my shoulder. I scream. Loudly.
The undead warrior raises its sword, but I spin, kicking its rib cage and shattering any bone I can manage. It crumples to the floor in an unceremonious heap just as my companions tear into the room, weapons drawn.
"Just startled me, is all." I mutter, sinking to the floor until my knees can stop shaking. "Maker, I hate the undead."
"Where the hell did it come from?" Bull asks as Cassandra kneels to inspect the corpse.
"I don't know. I was looking at this when it shambled in." I hold out the journal. Varric starts flipping through the pages. "There's something going on here; you two were right."
"Oh, great. Children writing creepy shit - my favorite." Varric mutters, stopping at the passage I read. "Anyone else get that 'demon' feeling, or is it just me?"
Bull shifts. "Demons? Didn't see any on the way in. None of those guys, either." He gestures to the corpse.
"Either way..." I sigh. Cassandra helps me up, and I unsheathe Brother and Sister. "Either way, no more splitting up. We've already been through most of the estate's valuable possessions, so let's go for non-valuable; papers, journals, missives, that sort of thing."
"Haven't been to the ballroom yet, either." Varric points out. "Assuming this place has one."
"It's Orlesian, Varric." I try a laugh, and although it's shaky, I succeed. "Of course it has a ballroom."
/*/
"No."
"Mid-"
"No."
"We cleared out the demons! There are beds just waiting for us to use them!"
"And you can use them." I cross my arms, sitting firmly down on the steps of Chateau d'Onterre. "I will not be."
Varric sighs, but leaves me be, instead heading back inside. He doesn't close the front doors, leaving them open as a silent invitation that I will not be taking. Ever. In any way, shape, or form.
Because fuck the undead.
So, while the others choose their rooms for the night, I hang a hammock between two pillars on the front porch, light a lamp or five, and lay back, perfectly content in my solitude and accommodations.
Except for the fact that the Emerald Graves this time of year - despite being lush and humid during the day - are freezing come nightfall.
"I'm not going in." I mumble to myself, curling further into the mess of blankets I have wrapped around me. "Not doing it."
A soft chuckle rings from the doorway, and I peek over my pillow to see Cassandra standing there, two steaming mugs in her hands. A thick blanket is wrapped around her shoulders - probably from one of the linen closets inside, judging by the quality of the thick fabric. It looks warm.
"Here." Cassandra leans against the window sill across from my hammock, passing me one of the mugs. Mint tea steams inside, countering the cool air currently chilling my bones. "Varric told me you weren't coming inside."
"No..." I shake my head, taking a drink. Minty warmth floods through my chest. "Whether or not they're gone, I don't like the undead."
"Varric also told me that, although his phrasing was a bit more colorful." Cassandra smiles at me. "But I can't say I blame you."
We fall silent then, enjoying our tea and the mere presence of one another. Where the trees reach up, up, then break to allow the chateau towers to pierce the sky, the moon and stars shine overhead. August rams scuttle through the brush at the edge of the lamp's glow; somewhere far off, a wolf howls. You would never guess that a few hours ago, demons and their games roamed the halls of Chateau d'Onterre.
From her windowsill, Cassandra speaks up. "What guides you?"
I look over, frowning. "What do you mean?"
"You make monumental decisions every day that potentially change the course of Thedas. How do you do it?" In the moonlight, Cassandra looks so serious, but honest, her high cheekbones turned to provide a steady stream of attention towards me.
I hesitate, despite the sarcasm on the tip of my tongue. "Really?"
She nods.
"I make it up as I go. When that doesn't work, I... look to those around me - my friends. You, Varric, Dorian - all of you provide more inspiration than you can imagine."
Cass, for once in her life, seems shocked, like when I found her reading Swords and Shields. Frankly, I didn't expect such words either, such a confession. It feels good though, more warming than the mint tea ever could be and I decide that I like the feeling, right then and there.
"Again, a woman decides the fate of the world." Cassandra looks past me, to moonsoaked grounds of Chateau d'Onterre. "It makes me proud to know you, Inquisitor."
"You're right there with me, Cass. The same goes for you."
"I... thank-you, Hollyn."
"Anything for you."
A/N: Funny story: when I was going through d'Onterre on my first playthrough, this actually happened. Undead materialized from nowhere, had the volume cranked on my headset, and I screamed bloody murder at about two in the morning.
Anyway, hi! I'm back. That was a nice break and busy week. Now, onward! To regular updates!
