Chapter Thirteen
For the very first time in years—almost a decade, in fact—Evelyn opened her eyes and wasn't drenched in sweat, nor was her heart pounding in her ears. As she stretched her arms above her head, she sighed in delight at the feel of several bones popping, relieving tension she hadn't known existed. Sitting up, she glanced around, though it took several confused blinks for her to realize she wasn't in her own room.
It was much, much smaller with far less decorations than her quarters. The only window was a small square that revealed the morning sun. At the sound of obnoxious snoring that sounded eerily similar to that of a sleeping bear, she frowned upon seeing Bull sprawled out in a chair that could barely support his weight next to the bed that was half the size of her own. His head was thrown back as he snored to the high heavens, his long legs stretched outward and his arms dangling just inches above the floor.
She whistled a few times, though the Qunari didn't even stir as he continued sleeping soundly. She shook her head and tossed back the comforter before standing. She thought back over the previous night, struggling to recall how she'd ended up in the foreign room, but her mind was coming up short. The last thing she remembered was sitting around the table at dinner, then…nothing.
Well, that wasn't exactly true. She'd had a rather lovely dream where she'd been in a peaceful forest and she'd once again kissed Solas, but as far as she knew, it wasn't like the first kiss they'd shared. She was almost certain that this time around, it had been a private, personal dream of her own conjuring rather than him visiting her. In either case, it had been the first time in ages she could recall sleeping through the entire night without being thrown into the past.
Still, she wondered what had happened prior to her falling asleep. And why she was here instead of her own bed chambers. And why was Bull there as well? It was almost as though he was keeping guard, but hell if she knew what for.
Shaking her head once more, she glanced around and noticed that while she or someone had removed all her armor, she was still fully dressed save for her gloves and scarf. Swiftly donning them, she once again tried to wake up the Qunari warrior but gave up when he sleepily grumbled a curse that made her raise her eyebrows. Deciding to leave him be, she left the room and learned she was in the same hall where most of her companions had their own private rooms.
She'd taken all but three steps before the door next to hers opened. Dorian's steely gray eyes blinked at her before his signature cocky smile tilted one corner of his lips. "Ah, the dead awakens. I was beginning to think I'd have to cast an animation spell to get you out of bed."
"Good morning," she signed. Like Cassandra, Dorian was very skilled at guessing whatever she needed to say whenever he couldn't decipher her hand signals. She gestured to the room she'd left.
He glanced past her for a moment, an odd look of concern touching his features so swiftly that when she blinked, it was gone. "Oh yes, your temporary quarters. I'm afraid there was a bit of an incident involving a poorly executed lighting of the firepit in your room." He lowered his voice to a loud whisper. "If you ask me, I think one of the serving girls had a bit too much to drink."
Alarmed, Evelyn frowned. "Was anyone hurt?"
"No, but it truly was an accident. Repairs are already underway, so you'll be back in your luxurious bed in no time."
Somehow, Evelyn got the feeling that he wasn't telling her the full truth. However, instead of calling him out on it, she nodded in acceptance. Whatever had happened, at least no one had been injured. "When did this happen? I don't even remember falling asleep."
Snorting with humor, Dorian waved his hand out to indicate they walk down the hall. "I wouldn't expect you to. You've been asleep for roughly thirty-seven hours, my friend."
Evelyn stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide and mouth agape. "What?!"
Waving that aside, Dorian took her by the wrist and placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. "Come along, Evelyn. Breakfast awaits us. You've been working yourself down to the bone, so it's only natural that your body would shut down in order to catch up on the lack of sleep. Believe me, Skyhold has been as dull as ever. You haven't missed anything of importance."
While he continued talking about absolutely nothing as he led her downstairs toward the grand hall, Evelyn forced herself to relax. She still had a minor suspicion that she had missed out on something in her sleeping absence, but Dorian's casual rambling ate away at her concern until she found herself no longer wanting to ask what had really happened. If it truly was something major that required her attention, she trusted her friend would not keep it from her.
Once in the throne room, everyone was all cheerful smiles as they greeted her while continuing about their duties. Some of her other companions were already seated at the long tables, as well as two of her three advisors. All of them were leaning forward, conversing in tones too low for her to hear. Cullen was glaring at them all, though he pointed a stern finger at Sera, much like a father scolding a troublesome child.
When Varric spotted her and Dorian approaching, he sat up straight, flashing an easy smile. "Glitters, good of you to join the living."
Evelyn released her hold on Dorian's elbow and sat next to the dwarf, putting her directly across from Cullen. "What's with the whispering? Should I expect a surprise party later?"
Josephine's smile was cheery as she peered at Evelyn. "Inquisitor, when you have some time, Madame Vivienne and I would like your opinion regarding our formal attire for the Halamshiral Ball. We can't seem to come to an agreement on our own."
Tipping her head in thanks when a handmaiden placed a plate of fruit in front of Evelyn, she popped a grape in her mouth and signed, "Formal attire?"
Josephine gave an eager nod. "But of course! The Game begins the moment we approach the Winter Palace. We will be heavily scrutinized right down to the last button on our shoes. Image is everything."
Evelyn realized she still had so much more to learn about the Grand Game. She'd attended soirees and small parties back when she was a young girl, so having her every move observed and judged with keen eyes would be nothing new. However, it had been years since then, so she'd better touch up on whatever knowledge she'd lost over time. She nodded at the ambassador. "I'll be happy to help any way I can."
"While we're on the topic of being helpful," Cassandra offered, "our newest mage recruits have heard about your spar with Solas back in Haven. If you have the time, I'm sure they'll benefit from learning a few more moves."
Evelyn nodded at her as well, pleased that she'd have something productive to do after breakfast. While she didn't mind the uneventful days at Skyhold, Dorian was correct in stating that they could be so terribly dreadful if there was nothing to do. The remaining companions at the table also requested her assistance in some way, and within minutes, her entire next two days were booked. She spent the rest of the meal listening to one of Varric's outlandish tales about Hawke.
At some point in the dwarf's story, she happened to glance over at Cullen out the corners of her eyes. He'd been fidgeting through the entire meal, as though unable to get comfortable. At times he'd pinch the bridge of his nose and squeeze his eyes shut to ward off a headache. Once, he absently scratched at a random spot on his wrist. And more than a few times, his leg would bounce in agitation to the point where he'd repeatedly had to place a hand on his knee to stop it. Seeming to give up, he politely excused himself and stood, unable to hide a wince of pain as he stiffly left the throne room.
Evelyn frowned after him before signing to Cassandra, "Is he alright? He looks to be in pain."
The smile she received was tight and quite obviously forced. "The commander merely overexerted himself during training the other day. He tends to forget he isn't quite as young as he likes to believe."
Though she smiled in humor at the harmless taunts that followed, Evelyn was once again struck with a suspicion that she was purposely being kept out of the loop of something that had happened. It could very well be a case of paranoia on her end, but all of her friends at the table seemed a bit on edge. And for the fact that she had absolutely no idea why, she didn't like it.
…
…
After a long day of spending time with her friends and running tasks all over Skyhold, it was still a few hours before sunset when Evelyn contemplated what else she could possibly do to pass the time. She'd gone to find Solas earlier in the day hoping to ask for his help with something, but she'd learned he'd left Skyhold early that morning in search of some kind of herb for testing purposes. He had yet to return, so she'd left him a polite note before continuing about her business.
As she wandered around, she realized belatedly that her feet had carried her toward Cullen's office. She supposed it wouldn't hurt to check to see how he was fairing. She hadn't spoken to him one-on-one since before her departure to the Emerald Graves, and while she wasn't exactly sure what all they would even talk about, the least she could do was check on his well-being. Afterall, Cassandra had mentioned he'd hurt himself recently. Whether it was true or not, it gave her a nice excuse for being able to speak to him.
Knocking, she waited until he bid her entrance, but when she was met with silence, she pushed the door open. She gave a loud whistle to announce her presence, but he still said nothing. Stepping fully inside, she glanced around and saw that it was empty, though the lit candles told her perhaps he'd only stepped out for a few minutes and would return shortly.
She waited patiently for all of thirty seconds before her gaze landed on the practice dummy near his desk. Lips twitching, she walked toward it. She'd never really had an affinity for weapons beyond her staff. While she could whirl and twirl and jab and block with ease, she was embarrassingly pitiful when it came to things such as throwing knives, bows, and swords. Besides, it was a practice dummy, and no one was around to witness her piss poor aim.
With that thought in mind, she pulled all four blades free and moved halfway across the room. Tongue peeking out one corner of her mouth, she closed one eye for better aiming. Rearing her arm back, the flung the blade with all her might, but she let go of the hilt far too late, causing the knife to fling downward and become embedded in the floor.
'Oops,' she thought, looking around to triple check that no one had seen such a terrible display. Shaking her head in dismay, she tried again.
…
…
Cullen had only needed a few moments of fresh air to clear the headache that had lingered for the last few days. As he'd strolled across the battlements, he'd become sidetracked when one of Leliana's spies had approached him, delivering a letter. After giving it a quick read, he'd signed the document before sending the scout on his way.
As he made his way back to his office, more than once he had to pause for a stretch that did absolutely nothing to relieve the tense knots in his lower back. When Evelyn had launched that fireball at him sending him flying across the room, he'd thankfully been fast enough to avoid getting burned, but the resulting crash into a side table had hurt something fierce. It wasn't exactly painful now, but the ache was deep and unable to be reached no matter how hard he tried to stretch. Each passing hour only made the knots grow more tense.
However, he would never, ever let Evelyn know she was the one who'd caused him the discomfort. Shortly before she'd joined them for breakfast, he'd been stern in commanding the others to not bring it to her attention of what she'd done—especially Sera, who couldn't use a filter to save her life. He knew she would only blame herself, and feeling guilty over her unintentional actions would not at all help her overcome the stress she already had.
This morning had been the first time in nearly a year when he'd seen her with such a bright, rejuvenated smile on her face. If lying and keeping a little secret from her was what it took to ensure she'd keep waking up so peacefully, Maker forgive him, he'd go the rest of his life without saying a word about it.
It was pitiful, but at this point, it was unavoidable. He adored seeing Evelyn smiling so carefree for once. He loved knowing that for just a moment in time, she didn't have to worry about the looming threat hanging over everyone's head.
Shaking his head at his own pathetic thoughts, he pushed opened his office door, only to freeze at the sound of a loud thud, followed by a gasp of shock. Slowly, unsure what to expect, he stepped inside and pushed the door closed. However, he didn't turn away. Instead, he stared in blank confusion at the sight of a throwing knife protruding from the back of the door, just inches away from where his head would have been.
Slowly, he turned to the culprit. Evelyn stood in the middle of the room, one hand hidden behind her back while the other was slapped over her mouth. Her eyes were wide with surprise, though he caught sight of the blush creeping over her cheeks.
He narrowed his gaze on her hidden hand. "What have you got?"
She shook her head in denial, flashing a false innocent smile that wasn't fooling anyone. That only made him narrow his eyes further. He glanced around, taking note that the nearby practice dummy was missing all four knives. One was still in the door, one was jutting up from the floorboard, and way high above them, another was just hanging from his loft. Three knives accounted for, while the fourth was nowhere in sight.
He once again returned his narrow gaze to her. In his mind, he calculated the short distance between her and the practice dummy. "I ask this in the nicest way possible. Did you perhaps sneeze in the middle of throwing all three of these knives?"
The color of her blush deepened, but she huffed as she approached. She handed over the fourth knife before signing, "I wasn't expecting you to return so soon."
Cullen was wise enough to hide his amusement at her reluctance. He was also wise enough to bite his tongue from commenting on how bloody terrible her aim was. "I see. I hope I didn't keep you waiting very long."
She waved that aside and shook her head.
"Ah, good. Was there something you required of me?"
"Actually, I wanted to check on you." She gestured toward him. "Cassandra told me you may have hurt yourself during training."
Despite the lingering headache and building agitation due to his withdrawal, Cullen felt a little smile tug at one corner of his lips at her concern. He was also inwardly pleased that at least for the time being, Evelyn still had no idea what she'd done. "So I did. It's just a minor ache, nothing that won't go away in a few days."
His words didn't seem to relieve her, for she merely squinted her eyes in doubt as she peered him over. She edged around him, not stopping until she looped back around. Then, she signed, "It's your back, isn't it?"
"How did you know?"
Instead of responding with her hands, she made a show of imitating him walking stiffly, which in return caused him to snort out a small laugh. "I believe I pulled a muscle. As I said, it will heal soon enough."
Still not looking convinced, she frowned. It was evident she didn't believe him. While he appreciated her concern, he didn't want her to waste her time fretting over him when there were other things she could be doing. Just as he had things he needed to do. There was paperwork to see to, and one of the healers was putting together a care package to help his bruised back. He certainly didn't want her to be around whenever they showed up, which could be at any moment.
"I thank you for checking on me, but I really must get back to work. Last time I fell behind it took me a week to catch up. And that was even after you organized my letters for me."
A flash of disappointment flitted across her pretty features before she quickly schooled her expression. Though he hadn't meant to come off as dismissive of her, he really, really did not want her to worry her any more than she already was. Having the healer show up would only have her questioning the extent of his injury, which would land him in the uncomfortable position of having to come up with more lies about how he'd hurt himself.
"Well, take care," she signed. She turned and left so abruptly that Cullen almost followed after her to apologize, but the moment she left, the door behind him opened. Lena walked in carrying a small basket of potions and ointments.
What timing, he thought on a sigh.