Sisters of Tevinter

Respite

         The companions did decide to move from the bloodied carnage that they'd left in the canyon before they finally settled- all leaning on each other for support. Jor's shaking hands helped wrap Cassandra's arm, Varric's scuffed cheek was patched with gauze and elf root extract by Solas. 

           Cassandra was put on first watch, and the others were finally able to sleep. 

            It took them three days to get back to Haven. When they did return, walking through the gates and into the upper levels of huts towards the chapel set in the mountain, Solas bid them a weary farewell and disappeared in the direction of the apothecary. Cassandra said she would go report to Leliana and slipped through the chapel's double doors. 

             Varric glanced up at Jor as dawn light filtered through the clouds, shadowed by the emerald glow of the Breach over the peaks to the east. The little streets were empty. Varric took one look at her bleary, shadowed eyes and pale complexion and smiled. "...Come with me," he said, reaching up to tap the back of his hand against her arm as he turned down a packed dirt path. 

              Wordlessly, in a haze of exhaustion and numb with cold, Jor followed the dwarf. He lead her past a few hastily constructed tents and cooking fires and into a large wooden building with a thatch roof. The door swung open in the snowy winter wind, and music greeted Jor's ears. She stepped inside. It was blessedly warm, firelight flickered in the huge hearth set in stone in the center of the little tavern. Someone was playing a lute in a stool beside the fire. Soldiers in battered Inquisition armor were strewn about, most with their heads down, fast asleep on the tabletop with bottles still clutched in their hands. 

                 Soft laughter and talking brushed over the wood walls as humans, elves and dwarves sat at low tables and ate a hot breakfast and listened to music. The smell of eggs and herbs and strong drink welcomed Varric and Jor into a moment of peace. Jor's hand pressed to the bandages she'd wrapped over her torso as the heat made the wounds ache, but she smiled softly. "I didn't know the Inquisition would make something like this so soon." 

                  "Oh, no one would join otherwise." Varric grinned and patted a stool at a quiet corner table. "Sit. I'll buy you a drink." 

                   Jor sat, her muscles groaned like rusted gears. "You don't have to-"

                  "It's my thank you, Tackle," he said with a smile. 

                  Jor scoffed, but couldn't hide her gratefulness. Really, she was touched. What would she have done? Let him die? That would've be out of the question. "Alright."

                  He disappeared between the tables to approach a young woman cleaning glasses behind a dark wooden counter. Jor let her head tilt back to rest against the warm wood of the wall, listening to the lyrics the bard was singing softly over her lute. 

                  "Glad to see you're alive, you stupid whore."
                   Jor scowled and did not open her eyes. "Are you drunk, Kaisen?"

                   "No." 

                  "Oh good." 

                  "Did Mother Giselle take a knife to you or what?" Jor heard a chair being drawn up beside her. The scholar's lip curled. "Wolves," she said stiffly. 

                   "If I know my animals- which I probably don't- wolves don't usually attack people out of the blue, do they? I mean, you're the bestian or whatever, right?" 

                   "There was some sort of amulet on this spiky demon thing..." Jor yawned. "Look, I don't know. Ask Solas or Cassandra- oh, who you apparently know."