May The Dread Wolf Take You

Chapter Seven: Explanation

After Cassandra left the Inquisitor's quarters, she rushed down to the main hall. People stared as she dashed through the doors, weaving gracefully between the merchants and servants and soldiers. She tried to collect herself as she went down the stairs. It was all she could do to prevent tripping and making a fool of herself. She tried to keep a steady normal pace as she crossed the courtyard to the stairs that led up to the battlements. Her feet did not fail in carrying her there and she glided up the steps and through the various towers with ease and elegance. She wasn't trying particularly hard to be unruffled but she didn't want to look rough and tired when she finally reached the Commander's quarters.

She didn't bother knocking first. It was not something she liked to do. She felt that it made her predictable and more femininely shy than she liked. She quickly regretted it upon her entrance. "Commander!" She exclaimed, turning her back on him in a hurry and clinging to the closed door. She could feel her face heat up with red as she starred at the stone wall. "Andraste preserve me!" He shouted in response to her sudden entrance. "If I had known you were coming, I would've been more... decent." Cullen swiftly tried to right himself. She hadn't walked in on anything especially intimate but he was not in his usual attire. His everyday coat and armor was sitting to the side of the room, his gray cloth shirt, slung over the back of a chair, leaving him in his black leather pants and boots.

His golden tanned chest was bare to her still when she turned around. The dazzling light reflected off his finely chiseled torso and bounced through his brilliant blond curls. It kept the red flush on the surface of her face as she stared at him in both admiration and amusement. He walked around the desk, breaking their eye contact only briefly before slipping the loose fitting shirt over his head.

He smiled nervously, not sure of what she was thinking. Had he bothered her? Had he peaked her interest? Or was she simply disinterested? "There. Better?" He smirked at her, gesturing at his shirt. Not really. She thought. The sight of him shirtless, his bottoms hanging low, far below the curve of his waist meeting the inward v line of his muscles, had made her blush with embarrassment. She would not admit it but she did find him startlingly attractive.

"Yes. Much better, I apologize for intruding." She uttered, scratching her head slightly. Her accent made her voice sound heavy and rough when she was trying to seem unaffected by his previous appearance. She would not meet his gaze. "What'd you need then?" He asked curiously as he came around and leaned against the front of his desk, only feet away from her. "I need your help Commander." She said. His eyebrows went up at the odd request and his thin lips wound deviously into a smile.

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The Inquisitor could not sit around. After her discussion with Cassandra, she felt restless. The only thing keeping her in bed was her wounded leg and even that was feeling better the closer the night came. For days the only thing she wanted to do was lay there and cry. Now, the bed felt worn and lumpy. All she wanted was to go down to the rotunda and beg Solas to explain now rather than later.

Her thoughts of what she'd say we're broken when an immense churning pain erupted from her gut. She felt extreme nausea coming on and wanted to retch over the side of the bed. As she sat up and held her head in her hands, sitting on the edge, she knew she wouldn't be sick. Her stomach was empty and it made the cramping and reeling all the more painful. A loud grumbling noise resonated in her ears coming angrily from her belly. She needed to eat something. Not eating for nearly a week, she was surprised she'd lasted this long.

The tavern was too far away. She would not get a full meal before she passed out from exhaustion, or for that matter, dehydration. She quickly got up and went over to the bureau where a fresh pitcher of water stood next to a metal cup. Pouring herself a generous amount and lifting it to her lips, she noticed a slight shaking. She tipped it back and the cool liquid slid down her throat, soothing the heat and small nervousness in her. The relief ended as soon as the water reached her stomach. It felt as if the water were acid and it was harshly eroding at her insides. She doubled over, dropping the cup and water spilled over the floor as she writhed momentarily.