Doom Upon All The World

Chapter 18: Where The Fault Lies

     Nicolynn did not fully understand what was going on. Her parents were not the same. Their friends seemed to tip toe around them. The other children were fine, being their usual selves. But everything seemed different suddenly. She took pride and comfort in knowing that Anthony had not changed. He was still himself, still kind and considerate. He always asked how she was. He didn't press the matter of her house burning down like the Montilyet children did. He rather listened to what she had to say when she actually wanted to speak about it and didn't ask ill considered questions. 

      With so much going on, it was a relief to have someone understand her. Even Mythalus was different, changed in a way she couldn't comprehend. That night, when the fire struck and they were forced to run, he'd gripped her hand tight and if it weren't for the ache in her chest put there by the horror of her only home being destroyed, she would have cried from the pain. His touch was so cold, so merciless and unheeding. He didn't know what he was doing as he screamed out for Mother. He was terrified. She heard the plead in his voice and saw the agony in his face. He thought they were gone. 

     He'd burned her. Somehow, his hand had gotten so cold that the icy touch left a dark purple mark on her palm. Her father noticed immediately and took it away. She didn't know if he knew how it got there but he didn't ask and she didn't plan on telling. Trouble with Mythalus was the last thing they needed right now. Things only got worse since they arrived. Mother seemed cold and distance. She didn't sleep, rarely ate, complained of a headache on multiple occasions. Nicolynn worried for Maeve. When she tried to ask her father what was wrong, he told her she wasn't feeling well. That was it. 

     There was more though and she knew it. She would catch Maeve at times when she was alone in the hall or sitting in her quarters or on a bench in the snow covered garden, She'd be crying or talking to herself. Nicolynn would never approach her at times like this of course. She'd run to Solas and tell him exactly where she was and what was happening. His face would always fill with that concern stricken, pained look as he strode in Maeve's direction. The first night, when they arrived at Skyhold, Nicolynn had been asleep. But she didn't stay asleep. She awoke, hearing the sound of her mother's voice as she spoke to Solas. She was crying. Nicolynn could hear the faint anguish in her soft voice. It made Nicolynn want to run out of the tiny room and into her mother's arms.

     She couldn't make out her words but Solas' were clear. He constantly spoke with that strong firm voice and it was to Nicolynn's benefit that night. "You are not at fault, Vhenan." He'd whisper to her. There'd be a quiet sob and then silence and then they'd speak again a few moments later. It went on like that for hours. Mother rarely cried. She couldn't understand what had changed her so. Did she blame herself for the house burning down? Had they done something to upset her? Was something bad going to happen? The questions bounced around in her head as she stared at the floor. 

     She sat on the edge of her new bed and faced away from the door, towards the far wall, the one Anthony slept against. It was odd to sleep in the same room as so many boys but she supposed it wasn't so weird. They were family as it was. "There you are. I've been looking for you everywhere." A voice rang out from the front of the room. Nicolynn did not move. She knew who it was, heard the familiarity in the voice. "It didn't help much that I got lost several times on my way but alas, I've found you." He continued as he came around the room to face her. Her dark hair fell around her, cascading over her shoulders as Anthony came into view. 

     He wore a wide smile and held a wooden case beneath his arm. The chess set resided inside it. He was expecting her to play. She supposed she still would but she'd probably lose to him for the first time, being as distracted as she was. His grin faded as her solemn features became defined in his line of sight. "Nicolynn? What's wrong?" He set the case down on his bed and looked at her with considering eyes. He was calculating what to make of her stance. She was upset, that much was clear. But about what? He hoped it was not her home or her parents.