Sisters of Tevinter

The Journey

       Clerics had ushered Jor and her companions into a small hut at the edge of the village. It was one large, round room with a single table, a meager bed and a roaring fireplace. Cassandra had had her head bandaged, she seemed steadier as she paced the floor. Varric had claimed a seat at the table and laid out a sheaf of manuscripts in front of him, holding a well worn quill. 

        Solas had settled by the fire, his staff over his knees and his eyes closed. Whether he was meditating or fast asleep was beyond Jor as she sat in the center of the bed, her legs crossed beneath her as she cleaned her dirks with a damp oilcloth. 

         Suddenly, Cassandra gave a disgusted scoff. "She told you to go to Val Royeaux?" 

        "...Yes?" Jor looked up. "I've told you this. I believe her advice is sound, don't you?" 

        The Seeker tossed her head, then winced, seeming to regret the movement. "I believe I have to follow your lead." 

         Jor shook her head, scowling. "I don't see why." 

          "Because you're the Herald of Andraste," Varric said with an exasperated sigh. "Honestly, kid, try to keep up." 

           "Oh, hardy har har." Jor narrowed her eyes in the dwarf's direction, seeing his teasing grin. She glanced at Cassandra. "Are you bound by your beliefs to listen to me?" 

           "No! Well... yes." The Seeker brought her pale fingertips to her bandaged temple. 

            Solas spoke, his eyes still closed. "If we could perhaps discuss this tomorrow?" 

            "Translation: shut the hell up and go to sleep," Varric muttered helpfully. 

              "Sorry, Solas," Jor said hurriedly, turning away to look out the window as she fell silent. Cassandra scoffed once more, but sat on Jor's other side, adjusting the straps of her shield with practiced hands. 

               Though shocked, Jor only flushed and did not move. Perhaps Cassandra didn't hate her entirely. That was... reassuring. It seemed like a quiet kind of truce. And perhaps a kind of wary kinship being surrounded by males. The thought made Jor smile, feeling silly, but a little bit better. 

                 She set aside her dirks and laid down. They slept. 

                "Jor." 

               "Wakey-wakey, Herald." 

               Jor peeled her eyes open wearily. The hut blurred into focus. It was blessedly warm in here, her muscles were tight with strain. Her back hurt so much she was afraid to move. She mumbled something incoherently and blinked a few times. 

               Varric and Solas hovered over her. "Morning, sunshine," the dwarf said with a grin. Jor groaned. 

                "Say something inspiring, mage. Don't your people have some kind of philosophy about mornings?" 

                 Solas grimaced. "Not if we can help it." 

                 Jor smiled wryly and rubbed her eyes, sitting up slowly so that her spine wouldn't snap itself in half. It certainly felt like it was making up its mind. She looked around for Cassandra as she steadied her palm against the mattress. The Seeker was nowhere to be seen, but the cloth she'd laid on was still warm. It was foolish, but the realization that Cassandra had slept beside Jor made her fight not to blush. She swung her legs out of bed, shaking the haze from her mind.