She'd screwed up. She knew she'd screwed up, even as she felt nothing but satisfaction as she looked at Jacquelyn sprawled on the ground in front of her, blood pouring through her hands.
"You fucking bitch!" she spat, stumbling to her feet, looking at her blood stained hands and then at Siara. "You broke my nose!"
"Uh…"
There wasn't time for a quick witted comment, if Siara was even going to say one. With a shriek of rage, Jacquelyn threw herself at Siara. Each blow she swung at Siara was easily dodged, the anger and downright hatred that Jacquelyn felt for the elf blinding her. Siara wasn't even sure if Jacquelyn was trying to punch her, slap her, or claw her eyes out. There was every reason for Siara to fight back, and she probably could have successfully subdued Jacquelyn, but she didn't. She'd already screwed up and would be in enough shit as it was, she didn't need to make it worse. So she simply dodged each blow, or took hits where it wouldn't hurt or leave too much of a mark. The only hit that Jacquelyn managed to land that did much damage was something between a punch and a slap, struck just at the corner of her left eye.
It wasn't too long before Jacquelyn was pulled off Siara, almost frothing at the mouth as she continued to scream abuse. Siara straightened herself, shaking her head to clear it, and looked over to see Cassandra forcing Jacquelyn to sit down while a healer hurried over. It seemed that, fortunately for both Jacquelyn and Siara, the nose would be easily fixed and wouldn't even leave a mark.
"Andraste's tits, Spooks!" Siara looked down at Varric as he grabbed her hand and started forcing her back up the steps to Skyhold. "What were you thinking?!"
"Uh… okay, I'll level with you. I wasn't."
"Shit, Spooks. Do you have any idea what you've just done?"
"I have a vague notion, yeah. And yes, I know I fucked up."
"That doesn't even begin to cover it," the dwarf grumbled. "I'd like to see you sweet talk your way out of this one."
"Not even sure I want to," Siara muttered back. "The bitch deserved it."
Varric stopped walking and turned to glare daggers at Siara, standing a step or two ahead of Siara so his eyes were level with her's.
"You should know better than anyone that just because someone deserves something, doesn't mean that you should deliver the punishment," he scolded.
"Yeah. I do. But it's not like I can just dart into the past and stop myself, is it?" Siara scowled, pushing past him and heading into the building, plonking herself into a chair at the table Varric usually had claimed for himself.
"What possessed you to do something so stupid?"
"I would very much like an answer to that question myself," Cassandra said, joining them. Siara sighed, gingerly prodding the bruise growing on her cheek.
"Stupidity," she answered, "with just a hint of pent up rage," her eyes locked with Varric's. "Jacquelyn implied that the deaths of my siblings and Anders were my fault."
Varric lowered himself into a chair, a heavy sigh escaping him as he rested his head in his hands. Siara just watched him, still poking at the bruise on her cheek.
"How are we going to get you out of this one, Spooks?" he sighed. Siara felt more guilty about stressing Varric out than for punching Jacquelyn in the face. But she didn't know how to comfort him, settling for a shrug.
"The Inquisitor will want justice," Cassandra told them. "If we are lucky, she'll hold a trial for you."
"Yeah, because luck is my middle name," Siara muttered, noticing the blood seeping through her left sleeve. She growled slightly, pinching the bridge of her nose. Somewhere among all the poorly thrown blows, Jacquelyn must have opened the wounds inflicted upon Siara by that bloody shade.
"What happened?" Siara's head shot up as Cullen approached, confusion written all over his face. "Jim said that there was an incident in the courtyard," his eyes landed on Siara and the bruise on her face and the blood on her sleeve. "Maker, are you all right?"
"I'm fine. It's Jacquelyn you really need to check on."
"Spooks broke her nose," Varric explained, the confusion and concern on Cullen's face being replaced with resigned exhaustion.
"Sweet Maker… why?"
"It sounds like the Inquisitor was almost deserving of it," Cassandra told him, getting a smile and raised eyebrow from Siara. "Almost."
"I have a headache…" Cullen muttered. "Whatever possessed you to -"
"I have literally just gotten back from a very long trip. I am tired, and one of my biggest flaws is I have an amazingly short temper. Jacquelyn said something very stupid and I reacted. I have already acknowledged I screwed up. Can I go clean myself up now?" Siara muttered, once again rubbing her cheek. It hurt like a bitch, and she just wanted to sleep the worst of it off.
"I think you'd better," Cullen agreed, a long sigh escaping him as he looked out the main doors. "I should go check on Jacquelyn. Oh, and Siara, you should probably also start thinking about what you're going to say next time you see the Inquisitor."
"Absolutely nothing. I'm going to turn and walk in the opposite direction," Siara grumbled, standing up and heading in the direction of her bedroom. Cullen scoffed a little at that, watching for a moment as Siara left the room, Varric not far behind her, looking as though he had aged another ten years.
"You know the Inquisitor better than anyone," Cassandra said once Varric and Siara were out of sight, "how bad do you think this is?"
Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head.
"Let's just hope that it isn't catastrophic and that I can talk some sense into her," he replied, already turning to head out down the steps. He was not looking forward to dealing with the fallout. He wished that he'd been told a bit more about what had happened between Siara and Jacquelyn. But he hadn't, and he had a feeling he was going to get Jacquelyn's version of events in full detail. Whether that detail was a bit exaggerated or not, he would have to wait to find out. But he certainly wasn't about to be surprised if it was.
His thoughts were cut short as he approached the scene of the brawl. Jacquelyn was seated on a stool just outside the Herald's Rest, a healer standing over her, hand radiating a pale green light. Healing magic. Siara really had done some damage. There had been a faint hope that maybe Siara hadn't actually broken Jacquelyn's nose, that maybe it was an exaggeration. But now, seeing the blood on Jacquelyn's face, that hope was gone.
"Are you all right?" Cullen asked as he approached, the crowd parting for him to reach the Inquisitor.
"No, I am afraid that I most certainly am not all right," Jacquelyn snapped. "Siara has to go."
"Let's not jump to any decisions, especially not while tempers are still flared," Cullen tried. Jacquelyn was still fired up, she looked like she needed a bath, and she most certainly needed time to herself to calm down.
"She has been nothing but a thorn in my side since the beginning, and now she has gone too far. She assaulted me, Cullen. She attacked the Inquisitor."
"And I'll see to it that she receives the appropriate punishment."
"No. I have had it with her. She must go."
Cullen did his best not to pinch the bridge of his nose, stifling a sigh. This wasn't going so well. He looked around at the crowd, a frown creasing his forehead.
"What are you all standing around for?" he barked. "Don't you have better things to be doing?"
There was a shuffle of feet and a quiet muttering as everyone that had gathered scurried off to return to their work, Cullen turning back to face Jacquelyn as they did so. Now it was only her, Cullen, and the healer who was just finishing up. With the audience gone, perhaps Jacquelyn would calm down a bit. Maybe she would even listen to reason.
"What exactly happened?" Cullen asked, keeping his voice even.
"I was having an important conversation with an orlesian noble - Comtesse de Feroux - and Siara appeared and started throwing accusations at me before she proceeded to throw her fist at my nose," Jacquelyn scowled, rising to her feet as the healer finished and scurried off. Cullen resisted the urge to ask her if the attack was unprovoked. Siara had already told him that Jacquelyn had been saying something, and while Cullen didn't know what, he was certain that the attack wasn't as unprovoked as Jacquelyn was trying to make it sound.
"How about we get you cleaned up," he suggested. "Perhaps you'll feel better after, and then we can discuss the best course of action."
"I will not change my mind, Cullen. I want Siara gone."
"Be that as it may, there might be a bit of an outcry if you exile her. I know that many of my men regard her highly, and many of the people in Skyhold see Siara as an idol of sorts. Take your time to get cleaned up. Cool off. It's getting late, and you have judgments in the morning anyway, so sleep on it. We can discuss how to handle this matter once your head is cleared. I'll send someone to your room with bath water."
Jacquelyn looked like she wanted to argue, but there was a flicker of recognition in her eyes. She knew that what Cullen was saying was true, even if she didn't like it. A small scowl rested on her bloodied face, but she didn't argue any further, stalking off to her room. Cullen watched her go for a moment before heading off to send someone to start the process of filling a bath for the Inquisitor, not enjoying the position that Jacquelyn and Siara had left him in at all.