There was too much noise.

Why are they in my apartment?

For the second time that day, Tala summoned all her willpower so that she could force her eyes open. The first thing she noticed was that she was surrounded by three or four people, all of whom seemed to be wearing…armor.

Any minute now, her brain would catch up with her situation, and she'd figure out just what, exactly, she had woken up to.

Oh. Because this isn't my apartment.

She was in a tiny room, on a very uneven mattress, with only the light of a small window to see by. Her hair was still wet, soaking into the sorry excuse of a pillow that her head was still laying on. The walls were stone, for some reason, and they were bare, which she supposed accounted for the chill that had seemed to settle in her bones.

So cold, was her next coherent thought, why is it so cold? It's the middle of summer.

In the next moment, Tala glanced down and found out why, and almost passed out again. She was naked, covered only in a blanket that was starting to make her itch, in front of a handful of strangers, all of whom were whispering to each other in tones that Tala could only partly hear.

Even worse, if the approaching voices outside were any indication, she would soon be naked in front of a small, highly interested crowd.

"Are you okay, lass?"

The question cut through the mess of voices, and her gaze landed on the speaker – but what was that accent? It was vaguely…Irish? Scottish? A bad imitation of the two? Like the others, he was wearing heavy armor, with a symbol on it that she couldn't recognize. The face was unfamiliar to her as well… and not to mention a little unusual. Tattoos lined his face, down the bridge of his nose and onto his chin.

Uneasy ideas began to form in her mind.

"…her hands…"

"…Herald…Inquisitor…"

"…let me see…"

My hands?

Tala took a second to check her hands: it looked fine. They were both in working order, all of her fingers and thumbs accounted for. What did they mean by her hands? Pulling the blanket up closer around her, she looked up again, a million questions at the tip of her tongue.

But first, the important ones.

"Where am I? Who are you?"

Is this some cult and is that why you brought me here naked?

He was, bless him, helpful enough to answer her first two questions.

"I'm Knight-Captain Rylen, of the Inquisition. You're at Skyhold, on the Frostback Mountains."

Well, at least he answered, Tala thought, although she was completely baffled by most of it. And he'd answered truthfully, too – a quick glance out of the window did actually show a jagged, snowy landscape.

How on earth did she get to the mountains? And none of the mountains near her even had any snow. She'd certainly never heard of the Frostback Mountains before.

By this time, even more people had managed to find their way in.

"I don't – the Inquisition?"

Silence.

Then the murmuring broke out again, more heated this time, but she couldn't hear anything that they were saying.

Okay, this is annoying, she thought, shifting to secure the blanket more firmly. I'm going to need some answers, because it's way too fucking weird and I clearly need to find a way out of here.

She noticed that the entrance was blocked by the people crowding in. No chance of leaving like this, then.

"How did I get here?"

"You fell from the rift," came the reply. It was a level voice, but the words carried across the din without effort. From the way everyone scrambled back, Tala figured that whoever said it was 'Important'.

The woman that came forward walked in such a way as to confirm her suspicions. Though she was bizarrely dressed, with armor and a hood that partially covered a pale face and red hair, her sharp, steady gaze was trained on Tala, like she was daring her to make a run for it.

"I will need to speak to you," the woman continued. "Alone."

The room emptied as quickly as it had filled, but Tala felt no less comfortable. Somehow, it felt like the whole world had been reduced to this woman and what she wanted from her.

"I need some clothes first," she blurted out. Whatever happened, she wanted to face it with her pants on.

The redhaired woman looked bemused, but somehow managed to pull out the largest grey shirt that she'd ever seen and some sort of underclothes. Tala shot up, glad to be rid of the cursed blanket. The shirt was so big she would surely look like a child playing dress-up, but clothing was clothing.

"Be quick."

There was a little maneuvering to be done before she was ready – Tala had to use the blanket to brush some dirt off her back and her legs, which she supposed came from the 'fall' they mentioned. Once she was finished, the redhead wasted no time in beginning her questioning.

"What is your name?"

Tala noticed that she didn't offer her own.

"Amy."

That had been the name that she'd always given creeps at the bar, on the street, in the supermarket; it was common sense, really, the kind that their mother had drilled into them since childhood. Tala was many things, but she wasn't stupid.

Unfortunately, the Redhead seemed to have an innate bullshit detector.

"I was asking for your real name."

There was an edge to the words, one that made her want to crawl back under the blanket.

"I passed out," Tala said, choosing her words carefully. People like that could smell fear, and would pounce on it at the first opportunity. "And then I woke up surrounded by people I've never seen before, wearing armor." So no fucking way am I going to give up my name, she added silently.

Redhead didn't press the issue, but seemed content to let the question sit.

"Where am I?"

"I believe the Knight-Captain has already answered that question," she said, her tone still calm, decisive. It could've been pleasant, even; but Tala was still wary.

"I've lived in this area for half of my life, and I've never heard of it. And what do you mean I fell? I was in my…wait." A new thought occurred to her.

"This is a dream."

She'd read, a few years ago, about people experiencing visions, moments before death, that were so real it was difficult to distinguish from reality. Maybe this was what was happening – it was the only way it all made sense. One last dream, before whatever happened next.

Well. If this was death, then it wasn't too bad. Certainly could have been worse.

Redhead crossed her arms, tilting her head to the side.

"I'm very real."

And then she pulled out the sharpest looking knife Tala had ever seen.

Giving a silent scream, Tala jerked back so quickly that she fell back onto the bed. But all Redhead did was take one of her hands.

"I won't stab you," she said, a little too conversationally for a woman holding a weapon. "Much."

My subconscious is so fucked up, Tala thought, transfixed, as she watched Redhead bring the tip of the knife down on her palm; as the blade dragged along her skin, she had to bite back a curse. The pain as the steel bit into her was so real, it couldn't have been a dream.

Well, shit.

That just brought her back to square one.

"Okay, so this isn't a dream," she said, still staring at the fresh blood on her hand. "But that just means that all my previous questions still stand."

Redhead sighed, and tucked the knife back into her ridiculous armor.

"You are not my only problem," she said, by way of dismissal. "Rest. There is a bed. You should know that there will also be guards at the door, and they know how to stop an escape."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Tala knew her own capabilities; going to the gym three times a week did not an escape artist make.

The tiniest smile lifted the corner of Redhead's mouth, and she inclined her head ever so slightly. "There'll be a healer here shortly. They will check you for injuries, and heal your cut," she said, not unkindly.

And with that, she swept out, leaving Tala with a bleeding hand and the beginnings of another headache.