The Night Before

The next day went very quickly for Juliette, as she and Varel finalized everything that they could, and she signed several post dated items for him. The cart of private goods, needed for the expected length of stay, had been packed and departed as well. Juliette and the men would carry what they needed to camp, and travel, in their collective packs. The day ended after what seemed an eternity, with the last of her personal correspondence, including a letter to Fergus, sent off with merchant carts.

Nathaniel, she noticed, was nowhere to be seen. Juliette sat at her desk, finishing things, and considered their talk last night. That he stayed away today, only made her more concerned about his reaction to their conversation. "Oh be honest, it was the HUG, not the chat," she muttered to herself.

"Pardon me, Commander, I did not hear what you said." said Varel.

Juliette's head snapped up. "Thank the Maker for that," she replied.

"Ma'am?" Varel was clearly confused.

"It's nothing, sorry, Varel. Just a stray thought," Juliette said dismissing it. "Have we finally reached the bottom of the pile?" she asked. "Nothing quite like a month of work in one day," Juliette threw down her quill, and rubbed her ink stained hand on her pant leg.

"Yes, Commander," answered the seneschal. "I believe that most everything is complete. I will handle the rest until you return."

"Varel," Juliette began, looking up at him, but still wiping her hand. "I hope you know that I value all that you do. The Vigil is a well run keep that we may all have pride in, and in no small part, because of you."

"Thank you, Commander," Varel said, gruffly. "You have proven yourself a very capable arlessa. I am most privileged to serve both you, and the Gray Wardens."

"Thank you," she rose from her desk , twisting her long auburn hair into a knot on her head. "Care for some dinner?"

"No my lady, I will finish organizing things in here," he replied. "I shall see you at first light," and Varel bent his head back down to reading a stack of requests.

"Good night, Varel," Juliette called as she left the office.

"Rest well, Commander."

Juliette closed her office door behind her, and headed to the main hall. Not much dinner was left on the sideboards, but that's what you get for eating late in a keep full of wardens.

She assembled a plate, and sat down on a bench in the near vacant hall. Those who passed by nodded or said hello, but for the most part she was able to eat in quiet. Juliette finished her food and pushed the plate aside. She felt antsy, and was unsure of what to do about it. Fidgeting for a few more minutes she decided what she needed was some exercise. She rose, and left the hall for the back of the keep, walking toward the training rooms.

The halls were mostly deserted and she made it to the area without much distraction. Normally, if one of the recruits knew their commander was training, it drew challengers and viewers alike, but blessedly, none spotted her tonight. Juliette really just wanted a chance to blow off some steam in private.

The training room was empty, and Juliette selected a heavy long sword from the racks. She began the routine taught to her so long ago by her father's head men-at-arms, Ser Roderick. She lunged and balanced, turned and parried and then Juliette picked up the pace. Adding one of the dummies to the exercise, she began to relax and have fun.

Juliette returned to the training rack, and replaced the long sword and picked up two daggers, intent on practicing her more intimate fighting. Using two small blades brought you much closer to your opponent, and so required real speed and control. Beginning a different routine and tighter stance, Juliette worked with the dummy, but much to her frustration, she kept catching her left foot in the wrong place.

"It's a basic sweep!" she said to herself. "Come on, this is ABC's!" Juliette again worked through the routine, and again hit the same snag. "Andraste's knickers!" she yelled in anger.

"Have you ever wondered what color they would have been? Pretty racy if they caught the attention of the Maker wouldn't you think?" Juliette spun around, and saw Anders sitting behind her in the gallery.

"Perhaps none at all, or" Juliette paused, grinning. "Maybe Orlesian?" she said adding a bad accent, causing Anders to laugh.

"How long have you been watching?" she smiled.

"Long enough to know that whatever that dummy did, it's very sorry," Anders said returning her grin.

She wiped the sweat from her brow and walked across the ring, replacing the daggers. She then walked over to Anders. "I've been doing too much paperwork, and sitting. That sweep is so basic and it's getting the better of me."

"Well, I suppose that's the point of practice then, isn't it?" he replied. "Besides, we are about to start another adventure so there will be far less sitting."

Juliette shook her head at him. "Anders, you always seem to say just what I want to hear."

"Yes well, it's a talent," Anders replied in earnest. "Helps get the girls, it can't all be my amazing hair and good looks."

She laughed, not because he was right, but because he was completely serious. "How was Amaranthine?" she asked.

"Good," he replied. "I stopped by the various shops, and stocked up on what we will need. I dropped off Nathaniel's note to his sister, though he could have done it himself," Anders said, his tone annoyed. "As he was in the city, anyway."

"He was?" she was surprised. "I thought that's where he was yesterday."

"He was, and I know that because she said they had lunch together," Anders confirmed. "Anyhow, I saw him he was coming from the Chantry."

"Huh," Juliette said and mulled that over. Spotting Anders exaggerated gestures, Juliette saw Anders buff a shiny stone ring against his robe.

"Got a new trinket?" she asked, knowing full well he had hoped she would ask.

"I did, how kind of you to notice! Albert just got it in for me," and he held his hand up so she could see.

"Lovely, really sets of your earring," she complimented as Anders preened.

"Say, have you seen Ser-Pounce-a-lot today? I want to make sure he's looked after while I'm gone."

"I think he was in the second level hall earlier," she smiled thinking of the poor cat Anders adored.

"Well that beautiful new kitchen girl, the one with the wonderful backend, has offered to check on him for me," Anders got to his feet. "I'd better go find him."

"Thank you for the update, Anders," Juliette said, watching him go."See you in the morning."

"Night, Commander," he called over his shoulder, and Anders left the training room.

Juliette looked around the empty room, and thought about trying the sweep once more but decided against it. She would wait until she could ask Nathaniel go through it with her. Putting the dummy back in its proper place, she extinguished the torches around the ring, and left. A few minutes later she was back in the main hall, cutting through to the staircase that led to her apartments at the top of the keep. Juliette took the stairs quickly, and arrived at her door a moment later.

She was pleased to find her bath had been readied for her, and she washed and dried off. Juliette put on her long nightgown, and brushed out her wet hair, dried it, and braided it for bed. Banking the coals in her fireplace, Juliette then went round and blew out the candles. Climbing into bed, she snuggled into the extra pillows, and fell into a deep sleep.

xXx

At that moment, Nathaniel was trying to do the same thing, but with no success.

He had been seated in the corner of the hall eating, when she had hurried through, and was glad she hadn't noticed him. Nathaniel had just finished his preparations for their trip, which had taken much longer due to his last minute trip to Amaranthine.

Nathaniel had gone to the Chantry to make his monthly tithe in his brothers' memory, since he would not be able to do so while away. It was something he had begun to do shortly after he had been conscripted, but hadn't shared it with anyone. The Revered Mother had agreed to keep it private, and he knew the area needed the money, so he had come to enjoy doing it.

Today though, after arriving and explaining his early donation, the Revered Mother had looked him straight in the eye, and ordered him to tell her his troubles.

"They are all over you face. No excuses, young man, come and sit with me," she ordered, and had walked off toward her office, forcing him to follow.

Nathaniel had no intention of sharing his feelings about anything but once she began asking he found himself answering. They talked at length about his family, and all that had transpired. Her lips pursed tightly, she eyed him, and offered her opinions on his current situation.

"Nate Howe, you have always been a good boy, and I will say you seem to be a good man," the old lady had offered. "Your father's crimes were his own, and while people may think poorly of the Howe name now, your generosity, and acts of bravery as a Warden will soon turn that around."

"Yes Revered Mother, thank you" was all Nathaniel had said. In truth, it felt good to hear this normally cranky older woman say so, even if she was wrong.

She quickly turned that satisfaction around when she continued, "As far as this other worry you carry, the one you won't name, or discuss, it seems to me that if she," and she raised a wrinkled hand to silence his protest, "holds the same opinion of you as I, then you are a blessed man." The Revered Mother raised and eyebrow and spoke again. "Which means of course, that if you persist in your current thinking, then you may find yourself missing something the Maker intended you to have," she slowly sat against her high backed chair. "That, quite frankly, would be stupid and ungrateful; neither of which I believe you to be" Waving her hand, she finished, "Now, off you go, there is much for me to do."

Dumbstruck, he had left the Chantry as quickly as he could.

Nathaniel wandered around Amaranthine for a short time, reflecting on the conversation they had shared. As kind as the Revered Mother had been in her opinion of him, Nathaniel believed it naïve to think anything would truly change. For reality was, no matter who he was, or what he did, people would remember his father first. Nathaniel could not outpace his dead father's shadow, and it was selfish and unkind to hope Juliette to join him under it. He would never hurt her, and to ever consider perusing his feelings, well, it was simply not something he would do.

So, as he had watched her stride through the hall that night, Nathaniel had not seen that she was covered in sweat. He did not notice that her skin was flushed, or that her doeskin pants were adhering to her every curve, clinging against the moisture on her skin. He had not wondered what her skin would taste like.

He most certainly was not lying in his bed, wondering if her day had gone well, or if she was feeling better about their upcoming journey. Nathaniel did not think about how good she had felt when she had pulled herself into him the night before, or how his body had responded. He definitely did not think on how much he had enjoyed talking with her, and having her confide in him. He did not think about how good it had felt to hear her say she missed him. No, he lay in his bed, and did no thinking whatsoever.

Nathaniel Howe resolved that he would continue to do more no thinking.

He didn't sleep a wink.