Keeper Of Peace

Chapter Eleven - One Little Book

Nathaniel hated the idea, and he didn't make a secret out of it.

"Are you crazy? Making demands is going to make them like you even less!" The inner conflict was plain on his face. Jonathan had been his brother, and he had to want his murder solved just as much as Catherine did. That tear deep in her chest, continuously bleeding hurt, he'd got to feel it too. Had to have one of his own.

Yet here he was, putting her above his need for redemption. It scared her. Deeply so. He wasn't supposed to be doing this. He was supposed to be immature and selfish, all those things she'd always thought he was. This was extremely off-putting.

"They don't have to like me, they have to respect me. Big difference." She waved her finger in front of his face to emphasize her point. "Which they'll be more likely to do if I'm willing to work with them in the first place. And if they know my motivation, maybe they'll think they can control me."

"They will be able to control you," Nathaniel said, his voice urgent. "Have you forgotten which side in this situation has the monopoly on information? They tell you something wrong, whether on purpose or not, and you're dead."

"I won't trust official information, I promise you."

"Then where are you gonna get reliable intel? You'll need it, you know that, right?"  He'd put more distance between them on the bed, so that now they could properly look at each other. And Catherine could clearly see that she had him hooked. From the hopeful gleam in his eyes to the small crease between his eyebrows and the way he was fidgeting -  she was able to tell that he wanted this. He really, really did, and he only kept protesting because he was scared. For her.

"Solas, for now. He really doesn't like the way that socienty works. And if I could get the Light Court to give up the Dwarves' crown and warhammer-thing, I might get their support."

The last part nearly made her giggle. Managing not to do that made her extremely proud of her composure, especially when Nathaniel snorted and began to laugh.

"Crown and warhammer?" he wheezed.

And then , she was laughing too. Not nearly as uncontrolled as the man next to her, but it was a proper laugh, and it made the world on her shoulders feel lighter.

"That's what they wanted from you? Their warhammer?" Freshly calmed down, his voice broke at the mention of the weapon.

"It seemed like it was very important to them." Why was she even laughing? This wasn't funny. Your nerves, the little voice in the back of her head said. She barely kept herself from nodding. Yes. Nerves made sense. She was under an enormous amount of pressure.

Nathaniel kept on cackling. Which was quite a relieving thing to hear, given the circumstances, but it did seem a bit out of place.

"Stop it! Don't make fun of them." She crossed her arms, entirely serious - but still fighting the laughter. Really, this wasn't fair. Why didn't she have more control over herself?

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Nathaniel said, raising his hads in defence. "It's just.... I didn't think people actually owned warhammers. Or Dwarves, I guess."

Catherine nodded. She herself had never even entertained the idea that Dwarves existed. Them owning warhammers was just the icing on the cake. Plus, it really was relieving that Nathaniel was just about as lost as she was. Until she really thought about it more closely and realized that that pretty much meant she was fucked, but she didn't want to think about that right now. Blinders. Mental blinders would be really nice. It had always been quite hard for her to concentrate.