Amell was only marginally relieved that she was not the target of Sten's ire, but the way the two men were sizing each other up was not very reassuring.
Neither had drawn their swords yet, fortunately, but it was simply a matter of time at this point. She slowly shifted her position slightly away from the confrontation, while still making sure she had a clear shot at Ashaad.
Sten was the first to break the silence, though whatever he said was in the Qunari language and its meaning was lost to Amell. Ashaad replied tersely, his gaze flicking momentarily towards her as he spoke, then turned on his heel and strode off.
Amell did not understand a thing of what had happened. She looked uncertainly in the direction Ashaad had disappeared into and then back to Sten. The Qunari was still tense and watching Ashaad's departure with undisguised hostility.
"What was that all about?" she asked, her voice meeker than she intended.
"We should return to our quarters," came the only reply. Amell could not argue with that.
As soon as the cabin door closed behind them, however, Sten became quite talkative.
"What did he want of you?" he asked harshly.
"He... Nothing much, I suppose. I think he wanted to know about you," Amell replied.
"What did you tell him, specifically?" Sten continued his inquiry.
"Nothing," she insisted. "I--"
"Tell me exactly what--"
"Sten, stop it!" Amell snapped. "I'm not stupid, I can tell when I'm being pressed for information!"
Sten seemed to calm himself.
"I realize you are not... unintelligent," he said after a beat. "But you were not in a very tranquil state of mind when you left."
Amell shifted uncomfortably. She hadn't been, truth be told. She felt the gaping maw of shame whenever she so much as thought of Morrigan these days and to have to speak of her as well was unbearable.
"I was... fine, when he approached me," she sighed. "He introduced himself as Ashaad," she added.
"I thought as much."
Amell perked an eyebrow at this cryptic remark, but he did not elaborate.
"Perhaps, in the end, you were the one to gain more information from this encounter than he," Sten remarked, with a softening of the features that was about as close to a smile as he ever got.
"What did you say to him?" she heard herself asking.
"I simply warned him to leave if he wanted to continue breathing."
"And what did he say to that?"
Sten remained silent. At first she thought he might have just been playing cryptic again, but he seemed to be hesitating. This stunned her, just a little bit. She had not known Sten to hesitate and it was an entirely foreign experience.
"Was it about me?" She tilted her head at him curiously.
"It was uncomplimentary. Let us not speak of this any further."
He busied himself with unstrapping his sword and armor, all while deftly avoiding eye contact. It was a confusing sight, that of an embarrassed Qunari. A bizarre juxtaposition.
"Fine," she murmured.
* * *
At some point, her relationship with Sten had shifted. She could pinpoint it accurately-- the moment she handed Asala to him; he looked at her as if for the first time with a piercing gaze that she would once have found unnerving. It was soon after that he started calling her 'kadan' and while she did not understand the exact meaning of the word, she did understand the intent.
The early months of their acquaintance had been marked only by uncomfortable conversations that often seemed to amplify the cultural divide between them. Had he not been so reliable in battle, had they not been forced by circumstance to become comrades in arms, in any other given situation, she might have come to hate the man. Instead, she came to trust him implicitly and at times, she even felt the tentative start of a friendship. He was still unapproachable and more likely to find fault with just about anything she represented (a mage, a woman, a Fereldan; she'd even been told at times that as a Gray Warden, she also fell painfully short of expectations). Yet, after handing him Asala, he seemed less inclined to antagonize her. The perfunctory respect she received from him at first had somehow mutated into the real thing and it was obvious that this had taken even him by surprise. At times, she could almost sense affection from him.
She knew (or suspected, at least) that Qunari did not often treat outsiders and foreigners as equals. That Sten did so with her spoke volumes, more than she could fathom. It was, perhaps, the reason she prized his friendship the most. It was as valuable as it was hard-earned. She'd never experienced a similar bond until then, nothing like camaraderie, but could not imagine losing this feeling now. She understood, suddenly, why Sten would have preferred the Sloth Demon's dream to reality. She understood now, if she hadn't then, the way such bonds were irreplaceable. She simply understood.
Sten was not a very demonstrative individual, however, and so it still surprised her at times when he let on that he was just as attached to her as she was to him. That he had taken her bargain with Morrigan in stride when she was sure that, mere months ago, this would have been reason for a severe tongue-lashing, proved only how far they'd come.
Yet, in some ways, he was even more of a mystery now. She did not know if going to Seheron would improve her understanding of him at all.
As her thoughts came upon this idea, she felt a twinge of doubt. She had left Ferelden out of a type of cowardice; staying there would have meant attempting to build a life, something she had no experience in doing. Better, then, to travel indefinitely, to far-away, exotic lands than to face mundanity. Keeping busy to avoid reality.
She certainly understood Sten when he talked about finding happiness in duty.
These thoughts plagued her as she fell asleep and for the first time in a week, her nightmares returned. Not the Archdemon this time, but myriad incoherent voices locked in eternal torturous screaming.
She woke up in the middle of the night, morbid echoes still ringing in her ears. She lifted herself up and leaned her back against the headboard, sighing.
She should have known her few nights of peaceful sleep had been but a small respite. She rubbed her eyes tiredly. There was no chance of going back to sleep yet.
She slowly moved to the edge of the bed and untangled herself from the sheets. Pulling the curtain as silently as possible, she lowered her feet to the cold floor. A low, diffuse light spread through the room from the small oil lamp hanging on the wall. The cabin had no porthole or any other source of light and Sten, always expecting an ambush, did not think plunging the room into complete darkness was wise.
Amell's mind wandered briefly as she surveyed the room. A chill was starting to spread up her legs, snapping her to wakefulness fully. She was wearing only a nightshirt she'd been given at Redcliff Castle by a rather pushy servant who'd insisted she could not possibly sleep in her underclothes like a barbarian and it did little to keep the cold away.
Usually, when the occasional bouts of insomnia struck her at camp, she'd poke her head out of her tent and join whoever had watch. That was not exactly an option right now.
She was startled when the curtain from Sten's bed was shoved aside abruptly, to reveal the Qunari. He was propped up on an elbow and shirtless (and my, how uncomfortable Amell felt all of a sudden), but still managed to look like he could just jump into battle at a moment's notice.
"Is something wrong, kadan?"
Amell folded her arms awkwardly.
"Nothing's wrong, I just can't sleep," she replied. "Don't mind me," she added.
"Where did you intend to go?" he asked.
At first, she only wanted to say that she did not intend to go anywhere, but now that she thought about it, perhaps she'd been thinking about going up to the deck. After all, there weren't many places to go on a ship. After the events of that day, however, she rather doubted Sten would allow it.
"I'm not going anywhere. Go back to sleep," she sighed and pulled her feet back up, into the still warm sheets.
Sten did not make any move to follow her instruction.
"Nightmares?" he asked, instead.
Amell nodded, brushing a hand through her hair.
"It doesn't matter," she whispered faintly.
"If you wish, I could accompany you to the deck."
"Oh?" she perked an eyebrow at this unexpected offer.
"I have noticed that the sea seems to have a... calming effect on you," Sten continued, apparently feeling the need to justify his statement.
"Ah, but every part of it looks the same, so I can picture quite well from here, can't I?" she grinned lopsidedly, echoing his words to her.
Sten did not share her good humor.
"Kadan..." he started, but trailed off. He seemed at a loss.
"I just... seem to be in a strange mood," she said airily, filling the silence when he wouldn't. "This last year feels like a fever dream, yet I'm still expecting something bad to happen at any moment."
"Such feelings are not unusual after a prolonged campaign," Sten reassured.
And she suddenly realized that of all people, Sten would know this best. He was a soldier by profession, after all, and he had to have been involved in countless conflicts. There were scars marring his exposed skin testifying to that and the dim yellow light cast shadows over his face, deepening every crease of his features; she wondered how old he really was and how long Qunari usually lived.
She didn't know how long she stared at him, but she eventually dropped her eyes to the ground, feeling oddly self-conscious.
"I shouldn't keep you up," she chided herself.
"I could not possibly sleep knowing you are restless. For one, it would be irresponsible of me to allow you the chance of getting into mischief."
Amell grinned at his flat delivery. By Sten's standards, that remark was downright playful.
"Sten, I... I do appreciate that... you let me tag along," she mumbled, growing serious again and feeling all the more awkward for it. "I am sorry for imposing on you."
"You could not possibly impose on me, kadan," he rumbled.
She looked down to the floor again, feeling her face begin to heat up.
"Oh," she perked up, suddenly remembering something. "I forgot to give you something."
She hopped out of bed and produced a medium-sized leather pouch from her backpack. It looked new, for all that it was quite clean. She approached Sten and opened the bag, showing him the contents.
The Qunari lifted himself to sit on the edge of the bed and peered carefully into the pouch, then looked at Amell in surprise. The mage was grinning widely.
"Where did you--"
"I bribed the galley cook," Amell interrupted giddily, looking quite pleased with herself. "I was going to give them to you sooner, but I got distracted... by... things..." She coughed, deciding to veer away from the subject of the Tal'Vashoth. "Anyway, that was why I disappeared this morning after breakfast. Sorry."
Sten accepted the bag filled to the brim with cookies.
"If you..." he began shakily, then cleared his throat and started again, more decisively, "These are clearly too many for only one person to eat."
"Oh?" Amell tilted her head slightly, trying to maintain a serious composure.
"Yes. I will clearly require assistance to finish them before they go stale," Sten nodded solemnly.
Amell seated herself next to him on the edge of the bed and accepted one of the proffered cookies. She restrained herself from grinning too widely while she nibbled on it.