Chiyo would never admit to the tinge of wetness building in her eyes as she chewed through the first few glorious bites of curried fish. The sore ache in using her jaw could not be wholly usurped by the remarkable pleasures found on the end of a fork. Soft and succulent, the tender slices melted on her tongue and left an agreeable warmth in its wake as the sharper notes of seasonings faded.
Food had never moved her to tears, but the tingle and delight elicited by the comely dish did much to unload the heavier burdens from her spirits.
The quiet company wasn't half bad either. Even if it meant having to share the generous portions that her howling belly wished entirely for itself. Left to eat without interruption or comment on her blatant appetite, unsaid turns were taken with the take-out.
Ruffled, ragged and rent from the trials of their day old adventure, they sat on the floor with the bed to their backs, barricaded and bolstered from whatever else the world had waiting beyond the locked door.
Here, in this small room with gaudy, golden motifs running down the wallpaper and falsely gilded prints of unassuming artworks, with its scant furnishings beyond a place to sleep and a tiny desk, Chiyo could breathe easy and out of reach from their combined demons. For a few minutes, she was content with putting her plans on hold. Salvaging her career could wait until after dinner, at the very least.
Politely passing the carton between them, she caught several flicked glances upon her bruised features, but Solas wouldn't look at her long. His lips pulled into a tight line each time his eyes took note the puffy purples that blossomed where dwarven knuckles had imprinted her face. He struggled, opening his mouth several times to speak only to close it again around a scoop of spice and coconut cream congealed rice.
Tines hovered over a few covetous, meaty flakes, but her manners were too far ingrained to take all from a meal she'd not purchased. "Do you want that last piece of pickerel or-"
"I'm sorry." She'd broken the thin barrier of their short-lived silence. The words he'd swallowed at first now spilled out with nothing to stop them. "If I'd been paying attention, perhaps I would have seen…"
Solas swiped his hand across his puckered mouth and down the wedge of his chin. "You didn't deserve that."
Chiyo left her fork settled on the rim of the box. Apologies didn't make for much of a continued appetite.
She couldn't allow him to take the blame for this, not when her own self-awareness had been just as lackluster. In all the scuttling, skeevy cities and hole-in-the-wall places she'd traveled to over the years, no one had ever been made responsible for her well-being. Today was no exception.
"I won't accept that." Now she had his attention, be it brief, her pain reflected back in the hard stare of another. "Unless you punched me disguised as that little tart, there is no need for so much guilt."
Frustrated fingers left his tightened face and worked next the thick, cardboard folds of the container's lid back into the place. "I fell asleep in public without considering the consequences. It was careless, knowing what I do."
"And whose fault was it that you fell asleep in the first place?" Chiyo's head leaned onto the edge of the mattress and she crossed her hands over an abated stomach. "Call this my compensation for the hell I put you through last night. You were in no shape to be safeguarding my every move anyways. If anything, I should have been looking out for you."
She watched Solas scrape at the waxy coating off the box with his thumbnail, leaving white, powdery crumbles to fall on the carpet. Shame tinged the edges of his demeanor as his shoulders sunk in a deep curl. "My personal shortcomings should not be so detrimental. That's twice now they've been the cause of compromise."
For a moment, she considered reaching out to touch the man whom she'd held so close through what unknown hours had passed down in the dark. The hot sweat of fear and the desperation in the grip of his arms would take weeks to forget...
But a question as to why lingered and itched until the only relief left was to know. "I'd like to ask you something. However, if you don't want to tell me it won't be brought up again."
He drew a steady breath and released the leftovers to lace his fingers in his lap. "Then I shall answer as I am able."
"In the catacombs, after we saw whatever that... thing was..." Chiyo curtailed a shiver as she drew a knee up to hold against her chest. That was the last image she wanted in her head then, better left chalked up to some trick of the mind or illusion until solid evidence told her elsewise. "Why did you keep saying we were going to die? Did you really believe that?"
Solas was quiet, words again trapped behind broad lips pulled into a pinch. She could almost see them rolling on his tongue as he decided which, if any, would be spoken aloud. After several seconds, Chiyo thought to lay the impertinent question to rest before adding the remainder of their evening to a lengthening list of ruined events. The memory of the panic that had rattled his confidence and left the elf shaking was still too recent, her curiosity not worth making his inner wounds match what she bore externally.
"When you were young," His eyes had closed to little more than slits kept fixed to some unremarkable spot on the floor. "Did your parents ever frighten you with stories about children who wandered off too far from home and ended up in terrible trouble?"
"My mother, eh, not so much. But there were other relatives who made sure I was thoroughly terrified of everything from undercooked eggs to giant snakes that lived in fish ponds." Chiyo cleared her throat, even thinking of fetid, muddy pools made her skin crawl and beg for a bath.
And remember how often you screamed yourself hoarse when the other kids pushed you into the water. Good times… Little cry-baby. Those were medium-sized snakes at best, no wonder they teased you into fits.
"Meandering from the compound was only the half of their favorite over-cautionings, always paired with being kidnapped, eaten by bears, or ending up dead in a ditch."
"You were lucky then to have some kind of forewarning." His knuckles grew ashy the longer he spoke, each hand woven to the other. The newly revived color to his face lost its vigor, but he continued on. "Foolishness may lead some astray, but it's ignorance that places a boy in an abandoned mineshaft down in the Deep Roads."
"No," Her head snapped up from its lull against the bedspread as a brush of fear coursed along her nerves, trepidation taut in her veins. Yet it could only have been a fraction of the terror he must have experienced. There were just some places too dark and dangerous, even for her. "For how long?"
"Of that, I can only guess. The closest I come is three days, maybe four. But in the dark, it might as well have been an eternity. Even now, I do not recall how I made it back to the surface. Only that I supposed my life near to end and that I had the choice to either live or die. Perhaps it is better that I remember as little of the event as I do." Solas' voice came up hollow, emotionless even as he retold the barest bones of his tale. His prior agitation had been exchanged for stillness, rigidity for stupor. Only his chest rose and fell, but a bit too quick for her liking.
Here, in this small room with the hideous wallpaper growing uglier and more headache inducing by the moment, the walls crept close and the ceiling hung low. There wasn't a single breeze to un-stifle the humid evening air. It didn't seem quite as sheltered and cozy as it had been moments before.
Are you trying to kill him? He's been so nice-mostly- and now you're tormenting the poor man. What kind of journalist-bullshit was that? All but twisted his arm, didn't you? Of course he'd have to answer after those tactics. Now who's really the snooping bitch...
Chiyo reached for his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "What are your feelings about shaved ice? People keep telling me that the only good stuff comes from Orlais where they use natural-made blocks from the mountains, but there are supposedly better flavors available here in the north."
"I… I've never had reason to compare." His brows knit into shallow furrows as he was encouraged to his feet by the diminutive woman. "Isn't it a Fereldan confection in origins, regardless?"
"Then that settles it, we'll need to try a few and decide on the matter." She was already sifting through her bag for a pair of lighter shoes and powder for her face. Something had to help in the matter of concealing the fresh shiner from the public eye.
Flipping open a small clam-shell lid with a mirror fixed inside, Chiyo shut it again upon seeing her face. Maybe make-up wasn't going to correct as much as she imagined. "You don't have a hat, do you?"
Solas didn't laugh so much as he coughed on soft, dry hisses leaking from behind his teeth. Hands firmly pressed behind his hips, he said nothing as the writer left the little shop a few coins lighter and with a new purchase pulled low about her head.
"It's just a hat." Chiyo's tone came flat from beneath the wide, floppy brim that hid much of her face from those blessed to be tall and helped shadow the bruises from any so less fortunate to be even shorter than herself- dwarves aside. She'd be steering well clear of them for a spell. Not that they all were involved in the festering underbelly of society… but they did share the trait of having rather flinch-worthy fists.
He stooped just low enough to peek upon her zealously dusted features, skin left blanched and powdery from the application. "Excuse me hahren, but I'm waiting here for a young lady, not an old woman. Here you seen her? She was supposed to be treating me to an outing."
"Ohh, this granny surely doesn't buy rude da'lens dessert." She rolled her eyes and tugged the hideous mauve monstrosity even further down on her dark, knotted brow. Maybe she should have selected something more discrete, or at least without the added floral pieces in the band, but little else had been as shielding and the only other suitable option had been overtly pink, with fluffy feathers...
"How can you even see to walk? I'm surprised they didn't include a matching cane. White hair, absurd headwear, the sensible shoes, you'd pass for ninety at a glance." Solas offered up an arm that was promptly rejected as his companion left him in a haughty march.
Seeking out the promised sweetened ice, she'd not be one to wait for him to finish his light-hearted jests.
"You know, that's a lot of sass coming from a bald man. If anyone's old here, it's you." Sore, swollen and tender, Chiyo's cheeks burned beneath the heavy cake of makeup she'd applied to distract from the unsettling contusions. Tanned in the Tevinter sun and discolored by several hideous shades of red and violet, the addition of old cosmetics almost looked worse than what she'd tried to cover with it originally.
A few long-legged strides and bodily twists around the milling passersby taking advantage of the cooling evening air had him caught up to her. "That is by choice and has nothing to do with my age."
"Really?" Chiyo lifted part of the woven flap to reveal a wry smirk. "You choose to have a shiny scalp, or is that some sort of men's code for hiding a prematurely receded hairline?"
It must have stung his pride a bit, she watched as his previously glib mouth turn down into a soft pout. Perhaps the remark had been a tad harsh, but she'd succeeded with the derailment of his more derisive teasing. "How old do you think I am?"
For a moment, Chiyo stalled on the street, leather-clad toes dangling just off the curb. She'd not given his age much weighted thought, her own young life seemed at least somewhat comparable. A handful of years older than herself, easily gauged by his travels and experience, the beginnings of fine lines off the corners of his eyes, gave her only the vaguest of hints. Old souls in handsome bodies were not the simplest to peg correctly.
"Thirty...two?" She guessed, though saying it aloud seemed a stretch.
"Is that so? Interesting." Chiyo wasn't sure if his placid response served to hide shame or amusement.
He made no further comment as they crossed the street adjacent to the tidy public park-if a shallow duck pond, a paved walking trail, and a few manicured hedges could equate into being one. There on its border sat a cart, a glinting block of ice spinning in its center, slowly being whittled down into snow fine flakes and doused with gaudy colored syrups.
"Are you not going to tell me?" Waiting on a throng of children to collect their frozen rainbow motleys, she eyed him once again. With risk to earning a crick in her neck, Chiyo could only see his lofty features from the nose down.
Dreadfully pleasant lips curled into an innocent smile. "No, I believe it will be more stimulating to leave you without the truth."
"Do not underestimate me," She huffed, resisting the overwhelming urge to place her hands on her hips. "I've been told I can be quite wheedling and insufferable if need be."
"I'm sure." Even those simple words were blemished with a lilt of his tone that left her riled.
The incorrigible, easy ways in which he could slip beneath her skin and prod with blasé manners upon her buttons was maddening. From one minute to the next the writer, who was more akin to reading the subtleties in others than being taken as an open book herself, couldn't be certain whether she'd be feeling sorry for the fellow, furious with him, or utterly flustered by the wily attempts he made at flirting.
In defeated hush, before speaking got her into any more trouble, she observed in a silent fume beneath the protection of the hat as Solas selected a brilliant sapphire, minty debacle. If color were any indication of how sugary sweet it was, Chiyo's teeth ached at the thought of even a nibble crossing over her palate.
Dragon Fire. Now that sounded the least sucrose-sodden on the list. The splash of deep, blood-orange over pure white dazzled as it slowly saturated the crisp paper cone. With a precursory lick, her tongue was greeted first by a ripe cherry tang and then seared with a rush of cinnamon, hot tingles paired by the cool relief of ice.
"So what's the plan?" She asked between crunching bites, mulling over their situation at large. All prior ideas had to be scrapped for lack of both tools and security. Without her recorder, there would be no voices heard from the beyond. With his spare film worthless in a waste bin, there'd be no additional pictures. Considering the dose of brutality already endured, a cautious head won over a curious heart.
"Plan? For what?" Solas' lips were already tinted with blue, he appeared comically cold even standing in the sweat-rousing embrace of summer heat.
"To get out of here, away from the police, the Carta, whoever." She kept them walking along the tumbled brick path, glancing all the while for potential eavesdroppers or vagrants. "Do we run to the nearest safe house, or do you have some sort of underground network already in place to smuggle you out of compromised areas? Maybe a dash for the border would work… They still do hot air balloons around here for the season, if only we knew a pilot..."
"Please loan me whatever fantastical crime serial you've been reading. But I'm afraid nothing quite so fanciful will be taking place." He sucked the dripping melt from the simple treat, draining the stark color to near transparency. "Actually, I was planning to bore them into leaving us alone."
"And how, exactly, are we going to accomplish that?" Chiyo cracked a hardened lump of ice between her teeth. Perhaps she had kept her head too deep in the trenches of books and words, ideas that only existed on paper, and on one series in particular. Swords and Shields, however, was not an anecdote of medieval literature that could simply be put down and forgotten.
"Play tourist a few days." Solas deferred from the walkway and settled himself onto a iron-wrought bench near the water's edge. At once, several ducks perked their bills and beady eyes in his direction, waiting hungrily for any morsels he might offer. "We'll see a few sights. Eat a few meals. Take some drab pictures with the tail of the film left in my camera. If all goes well, we can then abscond back to Qarinus in a few days with our pursuers scratching their backsides, nothing gained or further found that could be considered incriminating."
She didn't join him on the seat, the idea that they could be followed, that someone might be keeping surveillance on them had her too nervous to sit for any given length of time. Even shopping for a few minutes had felt like a risk. Instead, Chiyo kept watch at his side from the limited screen of her hat, finally pushed back into a more serviceable position. "Will we have the added company of one Dorian Pavus to wile away the leisured hours?"
"No, unfortunately." Arm slung over the bench's back, the Carta would have to jump from the nearest shadows if they wished to rattle him any further. His claim to be living at large seemed far from the truth, the morning's prior alarm seemed past any recall or concern. Priorities supposedly muddled, he'd shown more stress sitting in the sanctity of the hotel room than being out in the open. "I'm afraid he's already registered for a coach to take him home in the morning, along with two elven passengers who will sadly miss the private ride and have to travel unnamed on the train again."
"You think that might be enough?" The questions continued to leak, Chiyo had never once been required to hide in plain sight. To say she was nervous or in beyond her depth, would only be half the truth. Shouldn't they be stealing disguises, making up alibis half way across the country, changing their names? But maybe his plan was simple in the best way, the kind that would work.
"Worst case, we can just use that enormity on your head to fly away with a strong headwind." She considered dumping what remained of her frozen snack onto the smooth back of his head, but the glaring elf settled for a pinch flicked at his gaping collar and the satisfying little gasp of alarm that came with it.
"Keep that up and you'll be the one wearing it tomorrow." Falsely rough with her warning, she was glad that Solas couldn't witness the uncontrollable smile working its way through the bruises.