"You are very quiet." The fire threw shadows to ridiculous heights on the walls, all pointed and elongated and dancing.
"I'm thinking." She waited a long moment, then pushed herself up on her side to look at him. "Aren't you going to ask me what I'm thinking about?"
"Would you like me to?" Then he drew a sharp breath. "Ow! What was that for?"
"What kind of question was that?"
"I apologize. What I meant to say was, What, pray tell, are you thinking about?"
The log split apart, sending up a shimmery wave of sparks. She shivered in the night air. "Do you ever worry about how this will end?"
"Is now really the time to worry about such things?"
"I don't want anyone to get hurt."
"I daresay a great many people will be hurt. It is inevitable in war." Her eyes, huge and accusing in the flicker, confronted him. "What? Was I supposed to ask you another question?"
"I meant I didn't… I mean, of course, I don't want anyone to get hurt in the war, even if it is inevitable. I meant that I didn't want either of us to be hurt… by this."
"Ah. I see." He rose then, tossed another cord of wood on the fire so that it could regain its pleasant roar. "Are you asking me if I am prepared to deal with the inevitable hurt that…" his hands made vague motions in the air, "this can bring?"
She sat up straighter, adjusting the large coverlet around her shoulders. "And if I am?"
He dropped into a cross-legged sit beside her. "What brought this about? Have you been speaking to Varric?"
"Varric? What on earth does Varric have to do with this?"
"Before... before the whole argument business between us," she gave him a wary look and he put his hands up in supplication, "Before we argued, he had some choice words for me. The dwarf is nothing if not blunt."
"Words about us?"
"Among other things. He wanted to remind me these tales do not always exactly end happily for the elf lover."
Evelyn stared silently into the flames a moment, her fingers worrying the edge of her blanket. "No, I suppose that is true."
"He wanted to remind me that I am not the hero of this story and that I am hardly the person the actual hero might choose to rule beside her, or whatever it is you intend to do after this is over."
She continued staring at the hearth, her words quiet and tinged with bitterness. "And do you believe that's what I seek? What I need? A hero to rule beside me? Some knight from a fairytale coming into save me at the last moment?"
"I think," he sighed as he settled back down, "that I would fear most for the knight in that scenario." He winced as her nail poked him in the side again. "Am I to be subject to random acts of violence every time I speak?"
"Only when you tease."
She went to poke him again and he caught her by the wrist gently. "And if I am not teasing? What if I earnestly want to know if you would rather prefer someone more... suitable?"
She noticeably stiffened at the question. "Do you think you're so unsuitable?"
He nodded gravely, pressing the inside of her wrist against his lips. "I can prove it to you."
The fire was nothing but ash and ember before they spoke again.
The predawn glow revealed a world obliterated by blinding white. A blizzard had struck Skyhold in the hours they slept, the guards attempting to shovel off the ramparts with first light, clearing away blocks of snow along the parapet, shaking their gloves off after. A fruitless gesture, as the flakes continued to fall and would soon cover their progress. Evelyn stood at the balcony doorway, breath fogging up the glass before her, patchworked Ferelden quilt clutched tight around her shoulders.
"Did all of this happen overnight?"
"It started soon after you fell asleep, but yes. Not uncommon for this region." He rose and pulled on his trousers, thrown haphazardly over one arm of her overstuffed sofa. With a click, then doors opened, letting in a swirl of snow and a gasp of cold air. He stepped out onto the balcony, the accumulations covering his feet.
"Are you never cold?" she asked.
"Rarely," he responded in a matter-of-fact manner.
"Is that an elf thing? From living in the elements?"
"No. Simply a 'me' thing." The wind picked up, sending flurries down faster than before. "I think the snow will continue for at least a few more hours. It is unlikely anything of merit will be accomplished before evening, and then it will make more sense to wait until tomorrow."
"Whatever shall we do with ourselves?"
He pulled the door shut behind him. "Come back to bed. I shall show you."
She snorted a laugh in reply, stepping backward and hearing a strange crunch underfoot. Several of the letters from her desk had tumbled in the chill breeze, now covering the floor. He crouched to help gather them. The pile of correspondence in her quarters was always large, but it seemed to have become something much more formidable in his absence. He noted that several of the letters bore a familiar seal: a horse's head. "Your family has been busy writing, I see."
She snatched the papers from his hand, a strange and difficult to read expression crossing her face for a moment. "My father," she said darkly. "He is just being ridiculous. Thinks he has the right to inform my oversight of the Inquisition now. I would not be surprised if he sent one of my brothers to counsel me." She frowned. "I suppose he thinks me too young to lead alone."
"You are hardly alone. Skyhold teems with your compatriots."
"None that mean much to my father." She placed the stack of pages back on her desk as he stooped to pluck another from the carpet, one that had fallen farther from the others. This was on fine paper, embossed edges and a glossy sheen that said the fibers were likely woven with silk thread. Unlike the more goldenrod sheets from her family, this one bore a red wax seal stamped with a rose. Solas stared at it curiously as he handed it to her, unable to ignore the flustered way she took and shoved it beneath the others.
"I assume it safe to say that he does not know about..." he made a vague gesture with his hand.
"No. I do not often involve him in my romantic encounters."
"Often?" he raised an eyebrow. "Are there so many?"
She shot him a withering glance as she opened her wardrobe. "If your plan is to sneak out before they've begun breakfast, you might already be too late." Solas smirked in response, pulling his tunic on over his head and giving her a dramatic bow before heading for the stairs. "And, darling?" she called after him, freezing his descent in place. "Your shirt is on inside out."