Legend (Dragon Age Origins)

Chapter 24: Respite

Soft beads of sunlight drifted in through the large arch windows, its golden gleam sparkling across the surface of the water. Dru wafted her hand across it, separating the light and watching as it came back together in small waves.

She thumped her head against the lip of the bath and brought one hand to her shoulder, squeezing her aching muscles. The frangipani-scented water dribbled down her arms and chest. A pleasant change from the rags and cold buckets of water that she had grown accustomed to.

There was too much to be done in too short a time, and with far more adversary than Dru had anticipated. The Urn of Sacred Ashes was just a legend, a fairytale that gave the Andrastians hope of their Maker. How could she be expected to find such a thing? She tried to push the thoughts of her mountainous task away, and of Sten's fury toward her.

He was so stoic and stubborn, believing that he was superior and should be the one in charge. Perhaps he was right, for she never expected the leadership of such a motley crew to befall her shoulders. She couldn't blame him much for his opinion. The Qunari people were raised as soldiers since birth, ordered to wage war for the entirety of their lives in order to "enlighten" the lesser races to their own philosophy. While it was unkind to claim he was brainwashed, it was true that his way of thinking was limited.

She lifted her hand, watching as the water dropped rhythmically from her fingers. The only way Sten would listen to her was if she challenged him in combat and won. But the chance of that happening was slim, and she didn't fancy being cut in half by his greatsword, as nimble as she could be. Her best bet of swaying him would be to continue travelling together, to show him enough of their world until he understood the difference. Or she could just smother him in his sleep with a pillow.

Once the water's warmth began to fade, Dru forced herself to stand and grabbed the plush towel that waited for her on a nearby stool. As she wrapped the towel tightly around her lithe body, her eyes settled on a pair of silver scissors that rested atop the vanity. Her fingers travelled to the ends of the knotted hair. It had grown quickly, now reaching just below her shoulders.

She gently picked up the scissors, careful not to look at herself in the gilded vanity mirror. Before she was imprisoned, her hair used to reach her waist. It was impractical as ever, but she adored it. She shook her head. Such a foolish girl she had once been.

"You've certainly cleaned up well." A bright and cheery voice called. "You must have forgotten what you looked like when you're not covered in mud and blood." Leliana poked her head around the divider between their baths.

"Don't you knock?"

"I heard you getting out so I thought you must be done." Her eyes settled on the scissors gripped tightly in Dru's hand.

"It's too long." Dru grabbed a fistful of her hair, shaking it for emphasis.

Leliana clicked her tongue as she approached. "Your hair looks wonderful. It has such a lovely, vivid colour. If you were in Orlais, why the women would stare at you in envy, simply for your hair." 

Dru couldn't imagine anyone staring at her in envy.

Leliana gestured to the stool before turning to the vanity and digging within its drawers. "If you try brushing it more often, you'll find that it is rather easy to maintain. In Orlais, women would often wear their hair adorned with flowers, ribbons, jewels..." She broke off into a giggle at the thought.

"I think I have greater things to worry about than brushing my hair, let alone decorating it," Dru replied shortly, though she did sit.

Leliana retrieved a comb from within the drawers and positioned herself behind Dru. She brushed through her hair with her fingers at first, trying her best to pry away the knots. Dru breathed in as she closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling. It had been a long time since she had been touched in such a gentle way, she realised.