Trespasser spoilers:
Prompt: Fumbling in ignorance
Elanor cursed as the dagger slipped from her right hand, bouncing off the straw-stuffed practice dummy instead of lacerating it. She reached up with her left hand—freezing with both shame and a flash of pain. Her left hand was gone, only her brain had yet to get used to that fact. The pain was ghostly, and she purposely stared at the pinned, empty sleeve, forcing her mind to acknowledge that there was no reason for the pain to be there.
"Are you still at it?" Cullen emerged from around the corner of the tavern, looking concerned.
"Just... trying to get my stamina back up," she said, swiping the sweat off her brow with the back of her wrist. "Solas said—"
"Even a centuries-old elvhen mage who created the Veil cannot unmake the world as quickly as you think he might," Cullen said, coming to stand beside her. "You need to rest, love." He reached out to cup her cheek, but she stepped away, frowning.
"Don't coddle me. I have to be stronger than... this," she raised what was left of her arm.
Cullen sighed, folding his arms across his body. "Frankly, I think you're wasting your time."
"What?"
"Your style will have to completely change," he pointed out. "You're used to using two daggers to attack and defend simultaneously. Right now, you're still attacking as if you have two daggers and not one."
Elanor frowned, but didn't reply. He was right. But she didn't know how to fight other than what she had learned...
"I think you'd do better with a buckler," Cullen said, rubbing his chin as he watched her. "Yes... maybe one that could strap onto your arm..." He started walking around her, looking thoughtful.
Elanor laughed. Cullen blinked. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing," she said, sheathing the dagger and walking into the circle of his arms. "Just... thank you. For seeing possibilities and not limits... for seeing the future instead of the past." She rested her head against his shoulder, letting herself for once lean on his strength. "It's been hard for me to see either lately. I've felt only like I'm fumbling in the darkness, trying to cling to something that doesn't exist any more." Her arm throbbed as if at the thought.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "That's what husbands do, love. We poke and we prod until our lazy wives get up and do something—oof!" He laughed as Elanor playfully elbowed him.
"Tomorrow," he said. "Let's give Harritt one last assignment before he packs his tools. A buckler. I think you'll like it."
She wrinkled her nose, but allowed him to steer her toward the tavern where promising smells of druffalo roast were drifting out. "As long as it's not that giant monstrosity you call a shield, I should be fine."
"Don't tempt me, love."
