A Candle in the Darkness (A Dragon Age: Inquisition fanfiction)

Your Sodding Pride

13 Bloomingtide, 9:42

The very next thing Antonia did was charge straight into the barracks. Men and women scattered in front of her. Under ordinary circumstances, she would have apologized for disrupting them—aware of the effect her presence could have, she tried to minimize surprise appearances in unusual parts of the keep, just to avoid the type of scramble that was going on now.

But today she had other things on her mind. "Has anyone seen Eustace?"

"I ... I think he's in the ... west barracks," stammered a young woman who hadn't avoided her eyes fast enough.

"Good." Antonia went into the west barracks, sending people scattering in there, as well. "Eustace?" she asked the first soldier she saw. He pointed about halfway down the room. People were just getting up, and Antonia felt badly for causing such a commotion at just this time.

Eustace was scrubbing his eyes, sitting up in bed. Given the number of times she had been on the receiving end of his interruptions, she found it poetic justice that she was interrupting his morning snooze. "Get dressed and meet me outside. On the double."

"Yes, Inquisitor."

She stalked back out of the room to let the rest of the soldiers get back about their business, and paced up and down the muddy side yard while she waited for him.

At last, he came hobbling along, trying to shove his feet into his boots as he walked. "Your Worship, Inquisitor, ser."

"What were you thinking?" she snapped.

"Ser?" He appeared not to be following her train of thought, and Antonia forced herself to calm down.

"Commander Cullen. Have you seen him recently?"

"He ... he locked his doors. I thought ..." He trailed off, cringing a little.

"And you didn't think to inform anyone that there might be something wrong? You're always underfoot just when you aren't wanted, but the one time he needs you to be there you're down here ... sleeping!"

"Is—is the Commander all right?"

"I think so, now, yes," Antonia said, trying to cool down.

"I didn't know there was anything wrong." Eustace straightened a bit in all the wounded pride of an undeserved tongue-lashing. "Permission to speak freely, Inquisitor?"

"Yes."

"I thought it was to do with you. Begging your pardon, but it seemed like it just about broke him, what happened. He tried not to show it, but he was—back to the way he used to be. I thought he was ... hiding."

"I see." Antonia looked down at the ground, digging her toe into the mud. This really was all her fault—if she hadn't overreacted so badly in his office ... "He had a terrible fever, the worst he's had, and if I hadn't figured it out and knocked his door down, he might have—" She couldn't finish the sentence.

Eustace blanched. "Maker's balls, Inquisitor. I had no idea. I'd never have let that happen if I'd known it wasn't ... personal."

"So you knew we argued."

He nodded, and Antonia sighed. Everyone really did know everything around here.

"Speaking plainly, Inquisitor," Eustace said, "he's even worse off now than he was before. Then he was just ... tense. Too much work, too little sleep. Now ... It's not right. You two were good for each other and good for Skyhold and good for the Inquisition, and whatever it is that you fought over, one of you needs to swallow your sodding pride and apologize!" He was breathing hard once he got to the end, having spoken it all in one breath. "Begging your pardon, of course."