"I can't swim," Amell said as she looked upon the expanse of the Waking Sea. She was chewing on her lip thoughtfully.
Sten did not seem to share her apprehension.
"Then stay away from the edge," he instructed.
"I've never seen so much water before," she added, still staring down at the greenish-blue tint of the sea.
"You lived in a tower in the middle of a lake," Sten pointed out gruffly.
"But I could still see the shore on clear days and even when I couldn't, I still knew it was there. This is different. There's just... so much of it... I think this is what dwarves must feel when they see the sky for the first time," she noted, leaning forward, mesmerized by the waves gently lapping against the hull of the ship.
Sten grabbed the back of her robes and pulled her back.
"Yet unlike dwarves, you have a greater chance of falling into the sea," he said at her questioning glance. "Perhaps we should return to the cabin."
"But I want to look at it a little longer."
"Every part of it looks the same. I'm sure you can picture the rest of it when you are below deck."
Amell was ready to protest, but she had the nagging feeling that this might have been Sten's way of expressing concern. It was oddly touching.
"Alright," she relented.
She gave one last, lingering look to the water and turned just in time to see Sten bristle. He looked tense and ready for battle and she could not help but become alarmed as well. She followed his gaze however, down along the deck and near the bow of the ship she glimpsed the possible cause for Sten's odd behavior.
It wasn't hard, really. They were towering over everybody else.
"Are those Qunari?" she felt compelled to ask at the sight of the three giant figures. They had the bronze skin and white hair of all Qunari, but she thought it was best to make sure. They hadn't seemed to notice Sten yet.
"They are Tal'Vashoth," Sten growled.
"How can you tell?" Amell persisted.
Sten tore his gaze away from them and stared down at the mage intensely.
"It is obvious," he said.
'Not obvious to me,' Amell thought, but let it lie.
"We're not getting in a fight, I hope," she said instead. 'We' because she was not about to let Sten fight alone, no matter how ill-advised that course of action seemed to her.
"It would achieve nothing," Sten answered. "Let us leave, the air here has gotten foul." He turned abruptly and strode down the stairs, disappearing below deck.
Amell followed, but her eyes darted one last time towards the Tal'Vashoth. She barely missed one of them looking in her direction.
* * *
She arrived to the sight of Sten intently sharpening Asala. The sound of whetstone screeching against metal unnerved her slightly.
"So there's something I haven't figured out," she started speaking, grasping at any subject to put the Tal'Vashoth out of mind. "How did you know about... about the Archdemon? That somebody needed to die with it?"
"The witch Morrigan was indiscreet," Sten replied without looking at her nor stopping from his work.
Amell opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came to mind.
"Morrigan told you?" she asked, even though she knew it could be no one else. "How did that happen?" And why?
This time, Sten looked at her.
"If you must know, I came across her as she was fleeing after the battle. She stated that she had received her payment in this bargain and you had received yours. She advised me to ask you why you survived killing the Archdemon despite this normally being fatal to Gray Wardens. Then she disappeared."
Amell's mouth went dry.
"You disapprove, don't you?" she managed after a while.
Sten returned his attention to Asala.
"Tell me, kadan. Had this bargain with Morrigan been unavailable, would you have sacrificed yourself?"
"Of course!" Amell replied immediately. Perhaps she was being a bit too defensive about this, but she would have had to, after Riordan's death. She went over it every which way in her head and she could not conceive of a scenario in which she wouldn't have shoved that sword right through the creature's head, especially after what she'd gone through just to be in the position to do so. The point of no return had long since passed her by the time of the Landsmeet.
"I have seen men do inconceivable things in the name of survival," Sten spoke placidly. "You have done your duty. My approval is inconsequential."
Amell's head swam. She wanted now more than ever to know what Sten thought about her, but he was being even more unreadable than usual.
She chose to leave, instead. She didn't think she could be in the same room as him for the moment.
* * *
Amell somehow found herself back on the deck, staring at the sea once more.
It was dark now, but the lanterns from the ship cast sharp yellow light on the shimmering surface of the water and the moon was reflected in the distant waves as a fractured white outline. She found herself charmed with the sea, able to stare at it indefinitely. Perhaps part of this was the mere novelty of the situation and by the time they reached port, she would grow utterly sick of it, but for now it was fascinating.
Yet she felt ill at ease for some reason. Like she was being... watched.
She glanced over her shoulder, but turned right back around and kept her eyes down at the water when she realized the one looking at her was one of the Tal'Vashoth spotted by Sten earlier that day.
She licked her lips nervously. She wished she'd thought to take her staff. Her main arsenal consisted of magic, but when that ran out and enemies were rapidly closing in, she still had to rely on the good old method of "hit them with the big stick in the kneecaps until their legs bend the other way".
Heavy footsteps approached her, but Amell did not turn around to look, much in the way a child terrified of the dark hides under the blanket, convinced the monsters cannot get to her that way. She convinced herself that he had no reason to attack her, but she was just now noticing how empty the deck truly was, how dim the lighting, how easy it would be for a woman who could not swim to fall overboard and drown without nary a soul to know of it... Unbidden, small flashes of electricity twitched around her fingers. A fight, at least, was a situation her body was conditioned to react to. It remained to be seen if it would come to pass.
"A strange strategy, turning one's back to the enemy," a rich voice spoke to her right.
He was next to her, not close enough to invade her personal space, but entirely too close for her comfort.
Amell was at a complete loss. She looked at him properly now, which required she crane her neck up, because he might not have been quite as tall as Sten, but he was still a towering giant. He seemed fairly young; his eyes were yellow and his face was set in a carefully neutral expression.
"I have no idea which enemy you speak of," Amell replied coolly. Hopefully if she played ignorant, he would soon leave.
"How interesting," he only mused, though his gaze seemed to focus on her with unpleasant intensity.
"Not really, no," Amell muttered, resisting the urge to inch back slowly.
"You have an interesting choice of traveling companion, I only meant to say. Or rather, perhaps his choice of you is the more interesting one," the Tal'Vashoth continued.
She wondered if he truly knew about Sten or if he was fishing for information. She decided to play it safe.
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
"I am sure you do."
She held his gaze for a long moment.
"He has told you things about us, no doubt," he commented suddenly.
"I have no idea what--"
"I do not understand why you persist in this pointless game. You are the one accompanying the Qunari, are you not? I would assume he would have warned you against the Gray Ones."
"He warned me," she said evenly, "against the Tal'Vashoth."
"Did he, now?" the man growled, a trace of bitterness in his voice. "I apologize," he said, voice returning to its polite veneer. "I can see you know nothing of the conflict at play here. I am Ashaad."
"I... don't think I should be talking to you," Amell said, momentarily taken aback by the change in direction this conversation was taking.
"Are you not permitted?" Ashaad asked.
"Permitted?..." Amell repeated. "I don't need permission, I simply don't think it would be wise."
"No? Strange. I had gotten the impression you belonged to him."
"That I... what? I'm sorry, but I honestly don't know what you mean this time," she admitted, genuinely confused. Did Ashaad think she was some sort of slave?
"Then I was quite clearly mistaken," he said.
"About what?"
"I had only assumed, because you share a cabin--"
"How do you know that?" she snapped, because she was finally getting the gist of what he'd assumed and needed something else to focus on, lest she blush to death. She really hadn't given any thought to the propriety of this arrangement, used as she had been at the Tower with Templars in every room and with sharing a campsite with any number of fellow travelers after that.
"It is astounding how much information sailors are willing to divulge for only a bottle of alcohol," Ashaad said in answer.
"I see," she narrowed her eyes. "I think it's best I leave."
And she would have. She turned, ready to leave and quietly sneak back into the cabin, slink to her bed as unobtrusively as possible and not mention a word of this conversation to Sten.
Unfortunately, standing right there was Sten, looking as angry as his stoicism allowed.
This, she realized, would not end well.