Sisters of Tevinter

Loss and Gain

      Max was sparring with Delano again. The old chevalier drove his sword in a shower of sparks against the boy's shield. 

      "Lift with your legs," he growled, his gray beard bristling. 

      Max heaved the shield up, knocking the blade aside and brandishing his wooden short sword. His arms ached from training, his stomach growled. "Can't we take a break?" His voice was high. Reedy, young and breathless. 

      Delano scoffed and with a skillful jab of his (very real) sword, sent the wooden one skittering from Max's blistered hands. "Your enemy won't let you take a break, young halla. Block." 

      Max yelped and clumsily lifted his shield again, his bones rattling under the chevalier's next heavy blow. "Delano-"

      The groundskeeper swept a sturdy boot beneath the boy's feet, sending him sprawling on his back in the stones of the courtyard. His breath left his lungs with an oof. 

      "Your sister has better attention for this," Delano scoffed. 

      "That's not true. I'm stronger." Max gritted his teeth and dragged himself to his feet. 

      "Yes, but your mind wanders." Delano sheathed his sword with a heavy sigh. "You think of nothing but your next meal now." 

      "We've been at it for hours. I'm starving."

      A small, wry smile tugged at the creased skin of the soldier's mouth. "Then we'll find you something to eat, young halla. But after, I want to see you focus." 

      Max jerked awake in his armchair, a curious dampness turning to dust and ache at the corners of his eyes. Evening sunlight streamed into the library. Odes and Ends lay open in his lap. He was about halfway through it, it had taken a few days. He'd been spending much of his time in the library. People passed occasionally, he'd even seen Argus today. The thief was wandering Skyhold, pocketing treasures and flirting with everyone he came across. 

       But now, the catwalk was empty, though he heard soft footsteps approaching from the stairs. He cleared his throat, rubbing his eyes wearily with the rough edges of his palms. 

       The footsteps paused as a silhouette appeared in the archway of the nook. "Oh, it's you," that familiar, silky accent laughed. "Did I disturb your beauty rest?" 

    Max gave a ragged laugh, his voice thick and low with sleep. "No," he lied. "Sorry. Haven't seen you in a day or two, someone else keeping you busy?" 

    "Such suspicious scandal." Dorian grinned, his eyebrows arched playfully. "Do I look so fickle?" 

      Max flushed and shook his head, smiling slightly. "I hadn't meant-"

      Dorian laughed. "You're too easy." He waved a coffee hued hand and slumped into the chair across from the warrior. "No, I've been with Jor the past few days. Poor thing's at the end of her rope." 

      Max shifted in his seat. "Is she all right?" 

      "Mn. She's sleeping now, or at least she'd better be. I found her surrounded by notes and scrawling scrolls again." Dorian's lips quirked. "Nothing but trouble, that one. A disgrace to the reputation of fun, wealthy and duty-shirking that is the Tevinter nobility." 

       Max chuckled. "She's always been... bookish." 

       "One of her many charms." 

      "Does she... is she around anyone else? Besides you, I mean. Has anything happened?" 

      Dorian scoffed, bracing his hand dramatically against his brow. "Oh, the horror. Protective, dear brother?"