Sisters of Tevinter

Patience

        Kaisen watched him go, her eyes narrow. "Kh." 

        Cassandra laughed and clapped the girl on the shoulder. "Steady yourself, Crow." 

        Leliana smiled and exited through the rear door to her chambers. Josephine tucked a clipboard to her hip with a chuckle. "He's really not that bad." 

         "I do not like him," Kaisen hissed. 

         "Why? He's been nothing but civil. A little absent maybe-" Jor frowned. 

         "That blasted templar has done nothing but disagree with Leliana for the past six months. He's- He's stubborn and- ugh." 

          "Much like you, my friend." Cassandra smiled and turned to stride from the War Room. "It is telling you should hate him so." 

           Kaisen turned as red as her hair and scoffed. "I am the epitome of patience and grace." 

           "Your modesty knows no bounds." Josephine passed the Crow, smiling with a gentle hand on her arm. Kaisen melted at the touch and sighed, following Lady Montilyet out into the hall. Jor slid off her stool to follow. 

            The Seeker vanished into the sparring ranks of clashing swords. A large black bird with a ragged red crest gave a great caw and fluttered down from the roof of a cabin. Kaisen held out her arm, still speaking easily with Josephine about growing Orlesian unrest. 

              The raven nuzzled her cheek and settled on her shoulder, ruffling out its feathers in the cold. Jor had heard of these birds, they belonged to the Nightingale. She smiled bitterly. Kaisen seemed to know Leliana rather well. 

               Jor wandered aimlessly through Haven, tugging her hood over her head to ward off the winter chill. She found herself at the door of the cabin where she'd woken up that very first morning after the Breach. 

                Hesitantly, she touched the door. It was unlocked, and swung open readily. Everything was how she'd left it. Sighing, Jor let the door swing shut and threw down her satchel by the door, dropping her belt of dirks and pouches on the floor. She knelt beside the cold, empty fireplace and struck together the flint left for her in the grate, breathing life into the sparks and logs. 

                Soon the hearth was flickering cheerily, warming the little cabin. Jor settled in the center of the stone floor, tucking her legs beneath her and stretching her arms down and out. She hadn't stretched like this, alone, in peace in about a month. It would be good to get back into the habit. She rolled slowly onto her back and drew one of her knees across her waist. 

                 A few hours went by of easy, slow breathing. She had stripped off her gloves, her coat and scarf, sitting with sketches and parchment strewn around her, her arms folded behind her head to brush fingertips over her shoulder blades. She sat like that, still, breathing, focused on nothing but the blackness of her eyelids. She let the world melt away, the feel of her bandages, silk undershirt, the ache of her hand, her muscles all gone. 

                  Her sternum lifted with each inhale, drawing life, wood smoke and winter air into her lungs. Each exhale slowly unwound the gears of her thoughts and every cog of her spine. She was a watch, wound too tight. She hadn't realized that until she'd sat down alone. 

              This meditation was something Max had taught her, a kind of warrior's trance. Nothing fancy, nor was it magic- just calm. Control. 

              There was a knock on the door. 

             Jor fought the urge to slump. Five more minutes... "Enter," she murmured. 

              The door swung open, she heard footsteps behind her, and someone mumbled. "Wow." 

              Jor didn't move. "I'm so sorry, but I'm kind of in the middle of something?" 

             "I see that, kid. Want me to come back later?" 

              So it was Varric. "What is it?" She kept her eyes closed. 

             "I was wondering about the plan. You're taking me with you, right?" There was a smile in his voice. 

             "I don't know this time. Redcliffe... I figure I should only take a small group. Leliana already recommended Kaisen." 

             Varric sighed. "She's rooting for you both." 

           "Meaning?" 

           "Kaisen misses you. When we first met you and your brother were all she ever talked about." 

            Jor stiffened. "...It doesn't look that way to me." 

           "I don't mean to pry." Varric was silent for a moment, then gave a soft whistle. "What's all that about?" 

            Jor could feel his eyes on her and the set of deep, pearlescent slashes down her back in the mass of freckles and sun damage. Jor sighed. "Dragonlings." 

           "Oh." Varric smiled. "There are worse things. And Maker, it doesn't hide your muscles. You should show off more often, I know some boys who'd snap you up in a second."

           Jor blushed and peeled her eyes open, swiveling her torso to look back at the dwarf incredulously. 

            "Thought about bragging to Solas? That guy's a twig. Maybe he'll blush- I've never seen him red." 

            Jor's shade of pink darkened. "Varric." 

            He held up his hands in surrender, lifting his chin. "Sorry, sorry." He grinned. "Just saying. You're so uptight." 

             "And you're insufferable. I'm telling Cassandra." 

             "Tattletale." The dwarf smiled and leaned against the cabin wall, gesturing idly to the sketches and papers scrawled with messy notes scattered around her. "What'cha up to?"

              Jor dropped her hands into her lap. "I just needed some quiet, I read over some notes, wrote some down about the Veil Thread..." She lifted the charcoal dusted parchment with the hastily sketched orb. Now a few paragraphs of description were scribbled in the margins. "And I did some meditation." 

           "Look at you, being productive. I mostly just drank and wrote. Cleaned Bianca though." 

           "Bianca?" 

           "My crossbow." 

          "...Why Bianca?" 

           "Can't tell you." 

          Jor laughed softly. "Alright. Well." 

         "The sun's going down. Come out of your hole, have dinner with us." 

         "Us?" 

         "Yeah. I caught Cassandra on her way out- Bull and Krem found seats in the tavern and I don't think they'll leave anytime soon." 

          "Are we excluding Solas?" Jor smiled slightly, hoping that wasn't true.

          "He doesn't drink. At least, I don't think he does." 

           "Did you ask?"  

           "No, but he'll know where to find us." Varric grinned, holding out a hand. "Put your coat on, let's go. You can figure out your masterplan over an ale."