Now the Inquisition had garnered the support of the free mages... or, rather, what Asala understood as their support. From what she had heard from Aurora and Donovan, Marceline had not given Fiona much of a choice in the matter. However, what she did know was that the Inquisition was a far better option than a Tevinter Magister and from what she had seen thus far the mages were being treated fairly. It also meant that she was far more busy as requisitions for mana potions to supply their new allies mounted. Fortunately, it was not only she and Adan brewing them now, as Donovan and Milly offered their assistance.
They had set up a cauldron outside of Adan's home, and the scent of elfroot and embrium wafted throughout the small circle of houses. Donovan stood over the cauldron, stirring it in a steady, rhythmic fashion, while Milly measured out the herbs on a nearby scale that were to be added. Asala herself stood some distance away with Leon's crimson cloak pulled tight over her shoulders, watching over the process with Adan.
Even with her proximity to the fire, the cold chill still seeped into her bones. Asala doubted she'd ever get used to the cold, and though the snow was novel at first, its appeal had worn off long ago.
It wasn’t long before the sound of approaching footfalls crunching over the snow met her ears, march pace, from the sounds of it. Someone cleared their throat behind her, and then Reed stepped into their lines of vision. He didn’t look uncomfortable with the temperature, but then, he was wearing a decent amount of armor and a thick cloak made of wool, so perhaps it was unsurprising. “Pardon me, miss Asala,” he ventured, though the politeness of the words sounded a little awkward on his tongue, as though he were accustomed to being much more direct. “But the Commander is wondering if you had a moment. He’s asking to see you, but he stresses that the invitation is not obligatory and you should feel free to decline if you’re otherwise occupied.”
Reed shifted his weight, draping a forearm casually over the hilt of his sword where it angled away from him. “To be more specific, I’m pretty sure he’s going to help with your supply problem.” He jerked his chin towards the cauldron.
"Uh..." Asala began, stealing a glance to Donovan. He nodded and spoke, "Go, we will be fine," he said as Milly dropped a handful of herbs into the cauldron. As soon as she did, the scent of elfroot around them intensified and the liquid within the cauldron turned a crystal color. "The potions are almost done anyway. Meraad can help us bottle them. Milly?" he asked. The tranquil nodded serenely and turned to go find him.
"He should be with the other mages, practicing," Asala called after her. He truly could never sit still, she thought as a smile crossed her lips. Soon, though she remembered Reed's invitation. "Oh! Uh. Yes, let's go," she said nodding, and letting him take the lead.
Reed was evidently quite patient, because he didn’t seem to mind the delay in the slightest, merely nodding when she indicated that she was ready to leave and leading the way up towards the Chantry. Rather than entering through the double-doors, however, he walked them around behind the building, through a small line of trees, and out the other side. There wasn’t a great deal of space back there before the ground began to fall away in a steep hill, but what was present had been rather painstakingly worked on, by the look of it.
In several places, long branches or fallen logs had been filed and staked into the ground over uniform intervals, and more even taller ones stood in a line at the center. Over this, a number of tarps had been draped, providing some degree of protection from the elements for a plot of about ten by ten feet. At present, Leon and Estella were holding opposite ends of another tarp, taking it down, by the looks of things. Presumably, this was for sun. The plot itself had several neat lines of plants, most of them either once cuttings of larger specimens or grown from seed, by the small size.
They noticed Asala and Reed approaching at about the same time, and both smiled. Leon gestured, and Estella brought her end of the tarp towards him, after which he took over the process of folding. Reed took his cue to leave with a short salute. “Hey, Asala,” the young mercenary greeted. “Glad you could make it.”
Leon nodded his agreement. “I hope we haven’t taken you away from anything too important just now.”
Asala shook her head in the negative as she took in her surroundings. It was a small garden, that much she was certain. She took a step forward and knelt down to inspect the closest plant to her. An elfroot, from the looks of it. She tilted her head to the side as she gently caressed a leaf. "When did you plant these?" She asked curiously. Leon always seemed so busy with Inquisition matters, she was surprised to find that he found the time to work a small plot of land into a garden.
He wore a little half-smile, something almost sheepish in it, and shrugged his massive shoulders. “I… don’t always sleep as well as I could. I’ve found that working something simple is a decent substitute. Lets me rest my thoughts, at least.” He placed the folded tarp atop a stack of them, and went about the business of pulling the next one down himself.
“Khari and I passed him working on a run one morning,” Estella continued. “I asked him about it later, and he let me help a bit, too. I’m usually the one who takes down the tarps in the afternoon so they can get some sun while it’s warm. Well… warmer, anyway.” She pulled a face that indicated how little she thought of the difference, but the plants were doing relatively well. Clearly, Leon had picked varieties that were not only medicinal, but hardy enough to survive Haven.
Adding another tarp to the stack, Leon brushed his hands off on one another. They were still gloved, but it was becoming evident that they were always thus. “With a little time, I suspect this will help ease the burden of your supply shortage. Not quite all the way, of course; we’d need a much larger garden for that. But it should be enough on its own to keep the irregulars in decent supply, at least, and they’re the ones I’m most concerned about, considering what they do.”
Asala frowned when Leon told her that he didn't sleep as well as he should. She said nothing on the matter of course, he probably wouldn't like to be chided like that, but she did mentally file it away for a later time. She knew a few recipes for a tea that would aid in sleep. Taking one last glance at the elfroot, she rose back to her feet and brushed the snow and dirt from her knees. "Yes, this should... do," she said, pausing a moment to do a quick mental calculation. The Inquisition was growing day by day, and so were their needs, but the small plot would be enough for the few of them that went into the most danger.
"You know..." Asala said, throwing a look out back the way they'd entered, "Aurora is quite impressive with plants as well. If you wish, I could ask her to help too." While the woman lacked an alchemist's touch, she possessed an impressive knowledge of plants, and had taught Asala how to care and tend to them. Then she looked back to Leon with a curious gleam in her eye. It was plain that a question was waiting to spill out of her mouth, but instead of waiting to be asked, she went ahead and spoke. "How is it that you know so much of plants? Oh! Uh, if you do not mind me asking."
It did seem like a strange hobby for the Commander of the Inquisition's army to have. Most soldiers she knew did not know what went into their potions.
A breath passed from Leon in what might have been a sigh. If so, it was a soft one, weary, perhaps, or nostalgic, even; it was impossible to say for sure. “Little grows where I am from,” he replied, his eyes somewhere far away. “The first time I visited Orlais, which was the first time I had left the Anderfels, I was astounded by the amount of green I could see. I had never known that color to be so vivid before—even the plants are paler in my homeland, and smaller as well.” A tiny smile played over his mouth for a moment, and he blinked, clearing the distance from his expression.
“I suppose that I, like a child, was simply transfixed by the novel. I made a point of learning as much of horticulture as I could. It is not often I remain in one place long enough to actually keep a garden, however small or inadequate by most standards, but I like to take the opportunity when I have it.” He motioned for the both of them to follow him towards the door.
“I was going to take tea—ah, in the command room, not my office. Perhaps the two of you would not mind joining me?”
Estella nodded easily. “I’d be happy to.” Both then turned their eyes towards Asala.
She simply nodded her agreement before following them inside. Donovan was also from the Anderfels, and she remembered what he told of her of the place. He had said much of what Leon had. Truthfully, Asala found it hard to imagine a place so devoid of color, having spent most of her life in the tropics of Par Vollen and Rivain. Her vistas were full of lush greens and bright blues.
"Back home..." she began rather absentmindedly, as if she was stuck in the memory, "We had forests with trees that had these big leaves," she said, holding both hands up to indicate the size, "That were greener than any emerald. And the water," she continued, letting a hand fall to her collar, "the water was the clearest crystal blue, that stretched out as far as the eye could see..."
She then glanced up to both Estella and Leon, and a blush slipped into her features. "Oh! I am sorry. I did not..." she trailed, a pang of something welling up in her belly. How long had it been since she'd last been home?
Leon shook his head as if to dismiss the apology, but it was Estella who spoke. “It’s impossible to forget where we come from, isn’t it?” She smiled, a subtle expression best classed as bittersweet. “Very few good things ever happened to me in Tevinter, but I still miss it sometimes. Especially in the winter. There are these big thunderstorms that roll in off the ocean to the north of Minrathous, and they go for days—but when you walk outside after they’re gone... everything looks clean again.” She lowered her eyes to the floor as they entered the command room, where a smaller table had been set aside from the one with the map on it.
There were two chairs already present, and Leon let them have those, pulling up a third to the odd side and lowering himself into it. One of the older women who worked in the kitchen slipped into the room with a pot of hot water and what seemed to be a canister of some kind, which Leon accepted with a smile and a word of thanks. She dipped a curtsy to the three of them and departed.
The canister came open with a soft pop, and the scent of something citrusy immediately wafted outwards from it. With some care, Leon tipped out a generous portion of the dry tea into what looked like a mesh hemisphere of some kind, also extracted from the canister. When that was done, he produced the other half, enclosing the leaves in an effective straining mechanism, and lowered that into the pot.
“Homesickness strikes me at the strangest times,” he confessed freely, seeming rather unashamed of admitting the vulnerability. “Sometimes I’m simply walking along and see something that reminds me of one thing or another. Sometimes it just happens when I’m working, with no provocation at all.” He picked up one of the upside-down cups on the tea tray and deftly flipped it over, setting it on a saucer in front of Asala, and then did the same for Estella. “Citrus fruits were my mother’s one indulgence, so the smell of this tea reminds me of her. Sometimes, even that’s enough to do it.”
He deliberately waited a moment longer, then picked up the pot and poured each of them a cup of tea, setting the ceramic back down carefully.
Asala smiled and took the teacup in hand, though she didn't move to take a drink, instead just letting the warmth of the cup seep into her hands. She stared into the cup for a moment before she tilted her head as an errant thought struck her. "You know what I miss?" Asala asked, eyes remaining on the teacup. "The smell of fresh coffee beans," it seemed like every morning she woke up to the scent of Tammy brewing fresh coffee. She was quiet for a moment afterward, and took a sip of the tea once it was cool enough to drink.
Estella smiled slightly, and looked like she was about to speak, but she was interrupted by the sudden sound of shattering ceramic. The cause was obvious not long afterwards, when Leon muttered something softly under his breath. The sleeve of his robe and the glove on his right hand were both drenched in tea—and he still gripped several shards of the broken cup. It would appear that he’d crushed it in his hand somehow, and his left hand moved up to grip his right wrist, near where he seemed to be struggling to unfurl the fingers of his dominant hand.
“Are you all right?” Estella’s voice carried a note of alarm, and she immediately leaned forward to grab the small towel that had been brought in with the tray, using it to soak up the tea that had spilled onto the table and was even now dripping towards the floor. She looked as though she wanted to help, but was unsure how to do so.
Leon’s jaw clenched visibly. “I… yes, sorry. It is a muscle spasm. I did not mean to cause alarm.” His own tones were quiet as usual, but there was an edge of strain to them, as though he were exerting considerable effort to remain as subdued in demeanor as he was. His grip on his arm shifted, and he set about forcing his fingers to straighten with the opposite hand, faint lines of strain creasing at the corners of his eyes.
Asala's eyes widened in surprise and a moment later she was out of her own seat and kneeling beside Leon. She had a gentle hand rested on his shoulder as she quietly watched him wrestle with his own hand. "How long have you had these muscle spasms?" she asked gently, but with an edge of concern. She continued to watch him too, inspecting the hand from a distance for any telltale streaks of crimson that would tell her if he'd cut himself with the glass or not.
Fortunately, his gloves seemed to have prevented that, and with a few more moments’ concentration, he was able to stretch out the muscles, holding them in place for several seconds before they seemed to ease of their own accord. He released a heavy breath, noticeably slumping the shoulder beneath her hand. “It’s been a while,” he replied vaguely, “but truly, they’re nothing to worry about. While the attendant clumsiness is a bit embarrassing, I must admit, the pain is quite tolerable.” He flexed his hand a few times as if to demonstrate that it was fine, and the last of the tension eased out of his frame.
“I suppose hand cramps are an occupational hazard when I spend so many hours writing.” It was clearly an attempt to lighten the mood with humor, and Estella sat back in her chair, still looking vaguely worried, but at least less so than she had been a moment before.
Asala still frowned, but said nothing on the matter. It was clear that she wasn't entirely convinced of his story, but she chose not to pursue it. Instead, she reached over to the table and plucked up a towel when she began to dab at the tea he had spilled on himself. "Try... not to write so much then," she said, "Surely you can find someone to aid you, yes?" She asked. He was the commander of the Inquisition, surely he could find someone to write letters for him.
After she'd gotten enough of the tea off of him, Asala gently took hold of his hand and looked up at him. "And if it happens again, please Leon. Come see me."
He smiled thinly, but it was easy enough to tell that he wasn’t keen on committing to that, for some reason. “Thank you, Miss Asala. Your kindness is appreciated. As is yours, Lady Estella.” He nodded to the Herald in turn, then carefully extricated his hand from Asala’s, inclining his head at her empty seat. “But please… perhaps we can yet finish? I was quite enjoying our conversation.” It was perhaps the gentlest possible way of closing off a topic, but it was still unmistakable that he’d done just that: the incident would be discussed no further.
Asala continued to frown, but still said nothing. Instead she simply stood and returned to her seat, before turning to Estella. "You were... going to say something?" she prompted, though it was clear that her mind remained elsewhere.
She had always been terrible at hiding the emotions on her face. Worry being chief among them.
“Oh, yes. Right.” Estella nodded. “I was going to mention that my first teacher was very fond of coffee as well. He used to have these beans imported from Rivain…”
They had set up a cauldron outside of Adan's home, and the scent of elfroot and embrium wafted throughout the small circle of houses. Donovan stood over the cauldron, stirring it in a steady, rhythmic fashion, while Milly measured out the herbs on a nearby scale that were to be added. Asala herself stood some distance away with Leon's crimson cloak pulled tight over her shoulders, watching over the process with Adan.
Even with her proximity to the fire, the cold chill still seeped into her bones. Asala doubted she'd ever get used to the cold, and though the snow was novel at first, its appeal had worn off long ago.
It wasn’t long before the sound of approaching footfalls crunching over the snow met her ears, march pace, from the sounds of it. Someone cleared their throat behind her, and then Reed stepped into their lines of vision. He didn’t look uncomfortable with the temperature, but then, he was wearing a decent amount of armor and a thick cloak made of wool, so perhaps it was unsurprising. “Pardon me, miss Asala,” he ventured, though the politeness of the words sounded a little awkward on his tongue, as though he were accustomed to being much more direct. “But the Commander is wondering if you had a moment. He’s asking to see you, but he stresses that the invitation is not obligatory and you should feel free to decline if you’re otherwise occupied.”
Reed shifted his weight, draping a forearm casually over the hilt of his sword where it angled away from him. “To be more specific, I’m pretty sure he’s going to help with your supply problem.” He jerked his chin towards the cauldron.
"Uh..." Asala began, stealing a glance to Donovan. He nodded and spoke, "Go, we will be fine," he said as Milly dropped a handful of herbs into the cauldron. As soon as she did, the scent of elfroot around them intensified and the liquid within the cauldron turned a crystal color. "The potions are almost done anyway. Meraad can help us bottle them. Milly?" he asked. The tranquil nodded serenely and turned to go find him.
"He should be with the other mages, practicing," Asala called after her. He truly could never sit still, she thought as a smile crossed her lips. Soon, though she remembered Reed's invitation. "Oh! Uh. Yes, let's go," she said nodding, and letting him take the lead.
Reed was evidently quite patient, because he didn’t seem to mind the delay in the slightest, merely nodding when she indicated that she was ready to leave and leading the way up towards the Chantry. Rather than entering through the double-doors, however, he walked them around behind the building, through a small line of trees, and out the other side. There wasn’t a great deal of space back there before the ground began to fall away in a steep hill, but what was present had been rather painstakingly worked on, by the look of it.
In several places, long branches or fallen logs had been filed and staked into the ground over uniform intervals, and more even taller ones stood in a line at the center. Over this, a number of tarps had been draped, providing some degree of protection from the elements for a plot of about ten by ten feet. At present, Leon and Estella were holding opposite ends of another tarp, taking it down, by the looks of things. Presumably, this was for sun. The plot itself had several neat lines of plants, most of them either once cuttings of larger specimens or grown from seed, by the small size.
They noticed Asala and Reed approaching at about the same time, and both smiled. Leon gestured, and Estella brought her end of the tarp towards him, after which he took over the process of folding. Reed took his cue to leave with a short salute. “Hey, Asala,” the young mercenary greeted. “Glad you could make it.”
Leon nodded his agreement. “I hope we haven’t taken you away from anything too important just now.”
Asala shook her head in the negative as she took in her surroundings. It was a small garden, that much she was certain. She took a step forward and knelt down to inspect the closest plant to her. An elfroot, from the looks of it. She tilted her head to the side as she gently caressed a leaf. "When did you plant these?" She asked curiously. Leon always seemed so busy with Inquisition matters, she was surprised to find that he found the time to work a small plot of land into a garden.
He wore a little half-smile, something almost sheepish in it, and shrugged his massive shoulders. “I… don’t always sleep as well as I could. I’ve found that working something simple is a decent substitute. Lets me rest my thoughts, at least.” He placed the folded tarp atop a stack of them, and went about the business of pulling the next one down himself.
“Khari and I passed him working on a run one morning,” Estella continued. “I asked him about it later, and he let me help a bit, too. I’m usually the one who takes down the tarps in the afternoon so they can get some sun while it’s warm. Well… warmer, anyway.” She pulled a face that indicated how little she thought of the difference, but the plants were doing relatively well. Clearly, Leon had picked varieties that were not only medicinal, but hardy enough to survive Haven.
Adding another tarp to the stack, Leon brushed his hands off on one another. They were still gloved, but it was becoming evident that they were always thus. “With a little time, I suspect this will help ease the burden of your supply shortage. Not quite all the way, of course; we’d need a much larger garden for that. But it should be enough on its own to keep the irregulars in decent supply, at least, and they’re the ones I’m most concerned about, considering what they do.”
Asala frowned when Leon told her that he didn't sleep as well as he should. She said nothing on the matter of course, he probably wouldn't like to be chided like that, but she did mentally file it away for a later time. She knew a few recipes for a tea that would aid in sleep. Taking one last glance at the elfroot, she rose back to her feet and brushed the snow and dirt from her knees. "Yes, this should... do," she said, pausing a moment to do a quick mental calculation. The Inquisition was growing day by day, and so were their needs, but the small plot would be enough for the few of them that went into the most danger.
"You know..." Asala said, throwing a look out back the way they'd entered, "Aurora is quite impressive with plants as well. If you wish, I could ask her to help too." While the woman lacked an alchemist's touch, she possessed an impressive knowledge of plants, and had taught Asala how to care and tend to them. Then she looked back to Leon with a curious gleam in her eye. It was plain that a question was waiting to spill out of her mouth, but instead of waiting to be asked, she went ahead and spoke. "How is it that you know so much of plants? Oh! Uh, if you do not mind me asking."
It did seem like a strange hobby for the Commander of the Inquisition's army to have. Most soldiers she knew did not know what went into their potions.
A breath passed from Leon in what might have been a sigh. If so, it was a soft one, weary, perhaps, or nostalgic, even; it was impossible to say for sure. “Little grows where I am from,” he replied, his eyes somewhere far away. “The first time I visited Orlais, which was the first time I had left the Anderfels, I was astounded by the amount of green I could see. I had never known that color to be so vivid before—even the plants are paler in my homeland, and smaller as well.” A tiny smile played over his mouth for a moment, and he blinked, clearing the distance from his expression.
“I suppose that I, like a child, was simply transfixed by the novel. I made a point of learning as much of horticulture as I could. It is not often I remain in one place long enough to actually keep a garden, however small or inadequate by most standards, but I like to take the opportunity when I have it.” He motioned for the both of them to follow him towards the door.
“I was going to take tea—ah, in the command room, not my office. Perhaps the two of you would not mind joining me?”
Estella nodded easily. “I’d be happy to.” Both then turned their eyes towards Asala.
She simply nodded her agreement before following them inside. Donovan was also from the Anderfels, and she remembered what he told of her of the place. He had said much of what Leon had. Truthfully, Asala found it hard to imagine a place so devoid of color, having spent most of her life in the tropics of Par Vollen and Rivain. Her vistas were full of lush greens and bright blues.
"Back home..." she began rather absentmindedly, as if she was stuck in the memory, "We had forests with trees that had these big leaves," she said, holding both hands up to indicate the size, "That were greener than any emerald. And the water," she continued, letting a hand fall to her collar, "the water was the clearest crystal blue, that stretched out as far as the eye could see..."
She then glanced up to both Estella and Leon, and a blush slipped into her features. "Oh! I am sorry. I did not..." she trailed, a pang of something welling up in her belly. How long had it been since she'd last been home?
Leon shook his head as if to dismiss the apology, but it was Estella who spoke. “It’s impossible to forget where we come from, isn’t it?” She smiled, a subtle expression best classed as bittersweet. “Very few good things ever happened to me in Tevinter, but I still miss it sometimes. Especially in the winter. There are these big thunderstorms that roll in off the ocean to the north of Minrathous, and they go for days—but when you walk outside after they’re gone... everything looks clean again.” She lowered her eyes to the floor as they entered the command room, where a smaller table had been set aside from the one with the map on it.
There were two chairs already present, and Leon let them have those, pulling up a third to the odd side and lowering himself into it. One of the older women who worked in the kitchen slipped into the room with a pot of hot water and what seemed to be a canister of some kind, which Leon accepted with a smile and a word of thanks. She dipped a curtsy to the three of them and departed.
The canister came open with a soft pop, and the scent of something citrusy immediately wafted outwards from it. With some care, Leon tipped out a generous portion of the dry tea into what looked like a mesh hemisphere of some kind, also extracted from the canister. When that was done, he produced the other half, enclosing the leaves in an effective straining mechanism, and lowered that into the pot.
“Homesickness strikes me at the strangest times,” he confessed freely, seeming rather unashamed of admitting the vulnerability. “Sometimes I’m simply walking along and see something that reminds me of one thing or another. Sometimes it just happens when I’m working, with no provocation at all.” He picked up one of the upside-down cups on the tea tray and deftly flipped it over, setting it on a saucer in front of Asala, and then did the same for Estella. “Citrus fruits were my mother’s one indulgence, so the smell of this tea reminds me of her. Sometimes, even that’s enough to do it.”
He deliberately waited a moment longer, then picked up the pot and poured each of them a cup of tea, setting the ceramic back down carefully.
Asala smiled and took the teacup in hand, though she didn't move to take a drink, instead just letting the warmth of the cup seep into her hands. She stared into the cup for a moment before she tilted her head as an errant thought struck her. "You know what I miss?" Asala asked, eyes remaining on the teacup. "The smell of fresh coffee beans," it seemed like every morning she woke up to the scent of Tammy brewing fresh coffee. She was quiet for a moment afterward, and took a sip of the tea once it was cool enough to drink.
Estella smiled slightly, and looked like she was about to speak, but she was interrupted by the sudden sound of shattering ceramic. The cause was obvious not long afterwards, when Leon muttered something softly under his breath. The sleeve of his robe and the glove on his right hand were both drenched in tea—and he still gripped several shards of the broken cup. It would appear that he’d crushed it in his hand somehow, and his left hand moved up to grip his right wrist, near where he seemed to be struggling to unfurl the fingers of his dominant hand.
“Are you all right?” Estella’s voice carried a note of alarm, and she immediately leaned forward to grab the small towel that had been brought in with the tray, using it to soak up the tea that had spilled onto the table and was even now dripping towards the floor. She looked as though she wanted to help, but was unsure how to do so.
Leon’s jaw clenched visibly. “I… yes, sorry. It is a muscle spasm. I did not mean to cause alarm.” His own tones were quiet as usual, but there was an edge of strain to them, as though he were exerting considerable effort to remain as subdued in demeanor as he was. His grip on his arm shifted, and he set about forcing his fingers to straighten with the opposite hand, faint lines of strain creasing at the corners of his eyes.
Asala's eyes widened in surprise and a moment later she was out of her own seat and kneeling beside Leon. She had a gentle hand rested on his shoulder as she quietly watched him wrestle with his own hand. "How long have you had these muscle spasms?" she asked gently, but with an edge of concern. She continued to watch him too, inspecting the hand from a distance for any telltale streaks of crimson that would tell her if he'd cut himself with the glass or not.
Fortunately, his gloves seemed to have prevented that, and with a few more moments’ concentration, he was able to stretch out the muscles, holding them in place for several seconds before they seemed to ease of their own accord. He released a heavy breath, noticeably slumping the shoulder beneath her hand. “It’s been a while,” he replied vaguely, “but truly, they’re nothing to worry about. While the attendant clumsiness is a bit embarrassing, I must admit, the pain is quite tolerable.” He flexed his hand a few times as if to demonstrate that it was fine, and the last of the tension eased out of his frame.
“I suppose hand cramps are an occupational hazard when I spend so many hours writing.” It was clearly an attempt to lighten the mood with humor, and Estella sat back in her chair, still looking vaguely worried, but at least less so than she had been a moment before.
Asala still frowned, but said nothing on the matter. It was clear that she wasn't entirely convinced of his story, but she chose not to pursue it. Instead, she reached over to the table and plucked up a towel when she began to dab at the tea he had spilled on himself. "Try... not to write so much then," she said, "Surely you can find someone to aid you, yes?" She asked. He was the commander of the Inquisition, surely he could find someone to write letters for him.
After she'd gotten enough of the tea off of him, Asala gently took hold of his hand and looked up at him. "And if it happens again, please Leon. Come see me."
He smiled thinly, but it was easy enough to tell that he wasn’t keen on committing to that, for some reason. “Thank you, Miss Asala. Your kindness is appreciated. As is yours, Lady Estella.” He nodded to the Herald in turn, then carefully extricated his hand from Asala’s, inclining his head at her empty seat. “But please… perhaps we can yet finish? I was quite enjoying our conversation.” It was perhaps the gentlest possible way of closing off a topic, but it was still unmistakable that he’d done just that: the incident would be discussed no further.
Asala continued to frown, but still said nothing. Instead she simply stood and returned to her seat, before turning to Estella. "You were... going to say something?" she prompted, though it was clear that her mind remained elsewhere.
She had always been terrible at hiding the emotions on her face. Worry being chief among them.
“Oh, yes. Right.” Estella nodded. “I was going to mention that my first teacher was very fond of coffee as well. He used to have these beans imported from Rivain…”