It was only a matter of time.
Zahra had put off approaching Rom long enough. Well. Itâd been a few days, and she was surprised she hadnât bustled into his little space in the Undercroft already. She hadnât let it be out of any respect towards his feelingsâthatâs for sure, because she didnât think it was all that embarrassing. Quite the contrary. It was a development of sorts. Something he needed to work on. Romance within the Inquisition. Yes. While she believed that it could happen in any circumstance, especially ones that involved life and death experiences⊠she hadnât expected an opportunity like this to appear. Of course, sheâd noticed the lingering looks. The sidelong glances and too-long embraces. But now he knew she knew and there was no stopping her.
Prying into other peopleâs business was a hobby of hers. Confirmed knowledge changed the game. It made all the difference. Now she could broach the subject at any point. It was fresh in both of their minds, however much Rom wanted them to forget. She wouldnât. Besides, Khari was as thick as her blade; perhaps, thicker still. Romance mustâve been as foreign a subject as staying her hands in battleâfickle in nature, impossible to choke hold. She hoped she could tip the scale in Româs favor. If only a little. She doubted heâd make a move, if he couldnât even manage it in his dreams.
She made her way to the Undercroft like a woman on a mission. Striding as quickly as her short legs could manage, which wasnât particularly fast. Something sheâd eventually need to work on if she wanted to keep up with the others. As soon as she reached the wooden door, she rapped her knuckles against it three times, then four more: barely a pause in between. A little tune. A smile was already muscling its way on her lips, betraying her intentions, âEh! Rom, you there?â
Probably shirtless again.
Only Khari would be unfazed by that.
The door opened mid knock, but only a foot or so. Rom was not, in fact, shirtless, nor did he seem to be sweating or out of breath. Not climbing on his walls like a spider. A very muscled, broody eyed, decorated face spider. Done for the day with pushing his body to the limits, perhaps. He certainly didn't seem to need the extra work. What he did look like he needed was a pick me up of some sort, and from the glimpse Zahra could see inside his quarters, there weren't any of those empty little potion bottles sitting around anywhere.
Zahra was clearly not the pick me up he was looking for, though, and he took a deep breath in preparation for the storm. "What is it?" he droned, but he obviously knew exactly what it was. He was just leaving Zahra to say it, in case there was some miracle and she was here for something else entirely.
âI was expecting a warmer welcome,â Zahra planted a hand against the door and leaned on it. Not that she thought it would budge with Rom standing there like a rock repelling an oncoming monsoon. Stiff-arming her from entering the room. There was a vigilant look etched across his face, as if he knew why sheâd come. Perhaps, he did. All the more reason he should be thankful, honestly. She didnât step into peopleâs business unless she liked them, after all. If she didnât give a damn about them, she wouldâve let the issue die.
She glanced over his shoulder and peered into the room. Her eyes slid across his training equipment and slowly made its way back to his ownâwhich were unimpressed. He mightâve even been two seconds away from manhandling the door closed. It wouldnât take much. Though she wasnât going to give him any reason to. At least not until sheâd dragged him to a happier location. One where she wouldnât be blockaded out and forced to speak through a door. âYou look awful,â her tone wasnât unkind, just matter-of-fact, âIâve come to rescue you. Letâs go to the Heraldâs Rest.â
Even if her smile had dropped a fraction, her expression read as clear as day. She wouldnât take no as an answer.
Rom was not so thick as to miss that, nor as foolish to try and resist anyway. His sigh was one more of admitting defeat than any sort of aggravation. "Alright, then." Normally he might've asked if they intended to fetch Khari before they went. Well, normally it would be both Khari and Zee fetching him.
He let the door swing open a little while he stepped back to quickly tie on a pair of short boots and grab his cloak. As soon as he was ready he was out the door, closing it behind him. "Lead the way, rescuer."
âWise decision,â Zahra waggled her eyebrows at him and turned on her heels, leading the way back up the stairs. Fortunately there werenât many between the upper portion of Skyholdâs main floor, and the breezy Undercroft. The less stairs she had to scale, the better. She led them across the grounds, and readjusted the clasp on her own cloakâstill not quite used to the weather up in the mountains. At times, she missed the sweltering heat of the sun at her back. It made a cold goblet of ale seem like a little slice of heaven.
She toed the door open and stepped aside, letting Rom ahead of her, before letting it close behind them. Not that she thought heâd bolt at the first sign of discomfort⊠but maybe, he would. If he wasnât actively avoiding a particular subject, threading silence like a shield, she wasnât sure how he would react to being directly confronted with it. She drew four fingers up and winked at the barkeep. Unsurprisingly, the Heraldâs Rest wasnât busy at all. Apparently people had better things to do during the day. All the better for her, really.
Inclining her head towards the furthest corner of the tavern, Zahra sauntered ahead and plopped down on one of the long benches. Thereâd been many renovations to the space sheâd claimed as hers; the Riptideâs, in any case. While the room upstairs was occupied by Ves, sheâd brought in some of the more lavish items thatâd been in her captainâs quarters. Loads of pillows. Soft blankets, patch-worked and tasseled. Baubles and shiny objects hung from the rafters overhead. An odd arrangement that made her feel more at home. The tables, however, were the same as theyâd always been. She swung her gaze up at Rom expectantly and leaned her elbows on the table.
âWelcome to my little home away from home,â her smile widened as the one of the barmaids approached and settled a tray down with their drinks, walking off to tend to the few others who occupied the stools at the front. First sheâd cultivate a sense of security. Then strike, as one did. She slid one of the goblets across the table. Impatience would end the conversation as soon as it started.
To his credit, Rom was more at ease than she might've expected. Perhaps he had prepared for this. He had to have to known it was coming, after what she'd seen in the Fade, in his dream. His own wandering, dreaming mind betraying him. Not that she hadn't noticed such things already, but never in such a concrete, visual fashion. Audible too, with that funny little elf he'd called Brand prodding at him just as effectively.
The Herald removed his cloak and put himself at rest, draping the garment over the back of a chair which he then sank down into, taking the offered goblet and downing a long first gulp. He wasn't a bad drinker at all, as far as she'd seen. Maybe those colorful potions had something to do with it. "Alright," he said, as the warmth of the drink undoubtedly snaked through him. "Let's get this done."
Zahra, too, had shrugged herself out of her cloak and set it off to the side, rumples among the blankets. A smile stretched its way across her face as he took a long dreg of ale. She was curious about a lot of things, and as antsy as he was to get this over with, she thought it best to bring up another matter. It was something sheâd been meaning to bring up, but hadnât the opportunity until now. She lifted the goblet to her lips, and took her own gulp, before setting it back down.
âLetâs get this out of the way. Iâm nosy. We both know that. Iâd like to think all captains are, to a degree. Always in the know,â she rolled her eyes and slumped back against the pillows with a huff, âThose shiny little bottles of yours. Whatâre they for? Only caught a glimpse, a few times. Coming from a concerned friend and not a prattling mother, I swear.â Sheâd hardly pass as the latter in any given situation. A worried friend? Far more likely. Even then, she harbored no doubts that Rom knew what he was doing⊠though he had a tendency to push himself too far.
That was why she was asking.
He seemed a bit surprised that she chose to ask about that first. Not something he'd been preparing for, by the way he fidgeted, took another deep drink. His thoughts probably sloshing around his head while the ale sloshed down his throat. Setting the goblet down, he briefly wiped at his lips. "They're for protection from common types of offensive magic, mostly. Fire, frost, and lightning being the most common, but I have recipes for spirit, earth, arcane, that sort of thing. It was... necessary, I guess, when dealing with mages as I did in Tevinter. It works well against demons in the same way."
Rom sat up a little straighter, adjusting his shirt. Deciding whether to continue or not. "Tonics like that aren't uncommon. Mine are somewhat... unique. A few added effects that take more time and precision in the creation to get right."
âAre they safe to take?â Zahraâs eyebrows had slowly raised and come down as he explained exactly what they were. While she didnât really understand why he needed to take them, there was something else there. A specific reason. Perhaps, it was habit. Some remnant of dependence from days spent in Tevinter. A fear of sorts. She wouldnât have blamed him. His reaction hadnât done anything to smooth the concern from her face.
âI wasnât aware you could concoct tonics, to be honest. If theyâre not that uncommon, what makes yours unique?â
Beyond whatever Asala fed her, sheâd never taken any tonics, or potions. Even if they were readily available, she wasnât sure sheâd trust them enough to take. What if Rom was taking too many? Testing tonics on himself didnât seem⊠very safe. She wouldâve laughed if it didnât actually worry herâseeing how she was someone whoâd frequently take risks, dipping her toes in fool-hardy endeavors.
"They... put me into a different state of mind," he explained, though he didn't sound too proud of it. "One that helps me with a lot of things. It might be dangerous if I took too much, but I know my limits. I've been doing this for quite some time now. You don't have to worry."
A hm noise sounded. An assent of sorts. Who would know better than Rom himself? It wasnât as if she could stop him. If he needed this to⊠do whatever he needed to do, then she wouldnât question him further. Zahra fluffed up some of the pillows under her elbows and readjusted herself, âWell. Who am I to judge?â It was the clearest way to say that yes, she was worried, but she also trusted in his judgment.
There was a lull in conversationâone she allowed to grow and bloom, before straightening up in her seat and stippling her fingers together on the table. Zahraâs attempt to force a serious, contemplative frown onto her face failed miserably. She could already feel the cornerâs beginning to shift upwards. The warmth blooming in her belly felt more like a fervent thrill, rather than any inevitable drunken stupor. An excitement she couldnât quite contain because the next subject would be much more enjoyable.
At least to her.
âSo, onto the subject at hand,â she eyed him above the rim of her goblet, âI think it was about a tender, fiery redhead. Or was it⊠a sexy fiery redhead. I forgetâbut that was some dream.â
Rom let his head fall back against the chair, exhaling a very long, slow breath. Around the time she used the word sexy he began to take a very long, slow drink. To his credit, he wasn't really reddening now that they'd reached the subject he expected. "I would say I'm going to strangle that elf next time I see him, but... wasn't his fault." He set the goblet back down, meeting Zahra's eyes and enduring her excitement.
"Everyone has stupid dreams. I'm at a disadvantage, as I didn't get the opportunity to see yours." He seemed to expect that there might have been something worthwhile there that he'd missed out on. "Did you want to say anything in particular about mine, or are we just here to relive it?"
Zahraâs laugh was much softer this time, bereft of the edges it normally carried. She almost felt bad for bringing it up again. Almost. Not nearly enough to let it slide, though. It was the reason sheâd brought him here, after all. Having the upper hand in the teasing department? Priceless. While sheâd often poke fun at her crew whenever she had the chance, she found that she didnât often have as many opportunities here. The Inquisition was into some heavy business; from demon-slaying to facing off dragons, acquiring ugly scars in the process, and fending off mind-flaying creatures.
Who had time to enjoy snarky quips? Well. She still did. Others tended not to see the world in the same light.
"I liked himâBrand. My sort of fellow,â she wondered what became of him. If he was just a specter of a memory⊠there was a good chance he wasnât alive anymore, and that wasnât a question she was planning to pose. She untangled her fingers, and finished the last dredge of ale from her goblet before considering her next words. âYouâre right. Everyone does. I, for one, am glad you missed out on mine. It was⊠less amusing.â Sheâd let the subject die there. Leon and Cyrus had seen enough and it wasnât something she wanted to speak of.
She tilted her head to the side, âRelive it? Oh no. Thatâd be cruel.â A knowing smile tipped across her lips. Sheâd seen what sheâd needed to see. Anything else wouldâve made him squirm and despite all appearances, that wasnât her intention. âDo you love her?â
Regardless, her directness still made him squirm more than a little. At least, he shifted a bunch in his seat, switching which leg rested on the other, which side of his rear his weight would be on top of, which arm he let fall on the rest and which he used to support the side of his head for a moment.
"How should I know?" he said, frustrated, though it didn't seem to be directed at Zahra. He'd known what he was getting himself in for by following her to the Herald's Rest. He was frustrated at himself, more likely, as was usually the case. "I've never loved anyone. I care about her, I... feel things, IâI don't know. Does it matter?"
As delightful as his reaction was, Zahra couldnât seem to reach for a laugh. Her eyebrows pinched together. He didnât seem to know where to put himself. Granted being asked if you loved someone was uncomfortable enough⊠but not really knowing what that felt like in the first place, she couldnât imagine. Sheâd fallen in love plenty of times. Or else, sheâd thought so. Different flavors of it at least. More often than not, she had a warm bed. Though that didnât mean much. Had she truly loved anyone like she was asking? Perhaps. She liked to think that what she felt for her crew was as close as sheâd get.
A sigh sifted past her lips as she tapped her fingers across the wooden surface of the tableâthree times, as if to draw him back to the present and out of the frustrations he felt. Maker knows how baffling it would have been to combat feelings with someone who couldnât even fathom any innuendos from wrestling alone in a dark, dank cave. âIt does. It does matter.â She pushed errant curls of unruly hair behind her ear. Half-measures were luxuries in their line of business. A mistake. In more ways than one, they couldnât afford hesitance. Not now, not with what they were doing in the Inquisition.
Their lives werenât guaranteed.
âAlways time for something new, but our time⊠isnât assured, Rom,â she arched an eyebrow and studied his face, perhaps a little more seriously, âAre you fine with how things are now? With her not knowing how you feel?â
He spread the thumb and forefinger of his unmarked hand across his forehead momentarily, rubbing at the temples on either side, as though he'd developed a headache. Maybe he had. "She knows that I care," he said, letting the hand fall away. "She knows how important she is to me, more or less, she justâ" He stopped himself short, again seeming thoroughly annoyed with the words he was saying, as though none of them sounded right when they came out.
"Look, if you want to discuss this, there's something you need to understand." He leaned forward, resting his elbows upon his knees and touching the ends of his fingers together. "But it's... I need to know you can keep this to yourself. I don't think even Khari knows this, and I don't know how I could talk to her about it."
If Rom didnât look so damn conflicted, Zahra mightâve huffed at the accusation that sheâd run off blabbing to the woman in question. She wouldnâtânot like this, not when he looked like that. Even she knew better. Meddling in another way? Highly probable. If she didnât try to bring them together, what kind of friend would she be? Besides, there was a good chance Khari wouldnât know what she was talking to or outright not believe her.
âTell her? What would the point in that be? It has to come from you. Only you.â
He let out another long breath, took another drink. "Alright." He went so far as to check the tavern around them, to make sure no one else had wandered into easy earshot of the conversation. "Chryseis Viridius, my former domina, owner, required many things of me. I was her agent and her blade, but other times I had other uses. Her husband was killed in fighting with the Qunari, and she hasn't yet remarried, as far as I know. Sometimes, when she was... frustrated, or angry, or when she just felt like it, she would call upon me to... to attend to her needs." Maybe Khari wouldn't have caught the meaning of that, but it was quite obvious what he meant from the way he said it, and the context.
"I did that for her for... five, six years? There was no refusing her. I didn't have the power to, not then. At the time it was... it was hardly the worst thing she asked of me, I thought. But..." It was easy to see the strain the admission brought upon him. Something approaching physical pain. "Every time I've thought of Khari in that way, it goes back to her, no matter how much I'd prefer to forget it. No matter how different I think it would be, or feel. I wish I didn't think of her that way at all, but I can't stop that, either." He sat back again, shaking his head. "It's stupid, anyway. Selfish. We have better things to be doing, and this just... it would just threaten what we do have."
âIâm sorry.â It came out as a breathy whisper. Zahra meant it. For what little she knew Rom had gone through⊠sheâd known most of his experiences in Tevinter had been wholly unpleasant. He was a slave. Something that belonged to someone else. That someone would use him for those purposes wasnât all that surprising but it still left a bitter taste in her mouth. While it differed from a marriage born of convenience, there were similarities there. However invisible his wounds were, this Chryseis had left her mark on him. Twisted the way he saw the world. Gnarled the way he viewed love.
A small muscle jumped along her jawline. She hoped that this woman was rotting somewhere, paying for her deeds. It wasnât likely. Life had a funny way of ignoring justice. Tevinterâs moral objectivity did not align with theirs. What was deplorable here, was welcome and encouraged there. She reached across the table and took hold of one of his hands, eyeing him earnestly. âDarling thatâs where youâre wrong⊠it doesnât matter where, or when you are. Whatâs worse than dying without having spoken your mind? Nothing. I promise you that.â
She squeezed the side of his hand and paused for a moment. Her eyes softened. âThereâs a difference between what you were subjected to and a love youâre not sure you deserve. Donât accept any less. Not nowânot when youâve changed so much.â This time, she laughed. âYou know, Iâd like nothing better than to see you two together. Bloody hell, she feels something too. That much is obvious. Whatever that something is, seems like neither of you are willing to admit it.â He hadnât seen her at Adamant Keep. Hadnât seen how she reacted to the collapsing bridge.
Zahra gave him one final pat on the hand before releasing it. She flopped back down on the bench and regarded him levelly, âLove isnât just an emotion. What youâre feeling now, itâs important. Eventually, itâll become important enough to say and I hope that you do. Sheâs as thick as a sword, that one.â There was another pause, before she nodded her head, âIâm on your side, for what itâs worth.â
He swallowed uncomfortably, offering her a tiny little smile, gone as soon as it came. Forced, entirely. "Thanks. I appreciate that, Zee." It was hard to tell if the talk had made him feel better or worse, and it sure didn't seem like he was going to get up and tell her right now. Maybe he'd even been resolved against it. It was impossible to say.
But it did seem as though he was done speaking about it, as he exhaled shakily and got to his feet, finishing the last of his drink. "And thanks for the drinks. I needed it. I should really be getting back, though." It didn't seem likely that he had that much work to do, if anything at all. Probably just an excuse to find some solitude again, but he seemed insistent on it, at least.
âI. Love. You,â Punctuated into three, slowly spoken words, as Zahra bowed her head and glanced up between newly fallen curls, obscuring her sly eyes, âYou should practice it in your spare time.â She patted the table, indicating that she would be here if she was needed, âI'll be here, as always.â
Time waited for no one. Least of all those who could not love themselves.
Zahra had put off approaching Rom long enough. Well. Itâd been a few days, and she was surprised she hadnât bustled into his little space in the Undercroft already. She hadnât let it be out of any respect towards his feelingsâthatâs for sure, because she didnât think it was all that embarrassing. Quite the contrary. It was a development of sorts. Something he needed to work on. Romance within the Inquisition. Yes. While she believed that it could happen in any circumstance, especially ones that involved life and death experiences⊠she hadnât expected an opportunity like this to appear. Of course, sheâd noticed the lingering looks. The sidelong glances and too-long embraces. But now he knew she knew and there was no stopping her.
Prying into other peopleâs business was a hobby of hers. Confirmed knowledge changed the game. It made all the difference. Now she could broach the subject at any point. It was fresh in both of their minds, however much Rom wanted them to forget. She wouldnât. Besides, Khari was as thick as her blade; perhaps, thicker still. Romance mustâve been as foreign a subject as staying her hands in battleâfickle in nature, impossible to choke hold. She hoped she could tip the scale in Româs favor. If only a little. She doubted heâd make a move, if he couldnât even manage it in his dreams.
She made her way to the Undercroft like a woman on a mission. Striding as quickly as her short legs could manage, which wasnât particularly fast. Something sheâd eventually need to work on if she wanted to keep up with the others. As soon as she reached the wooden door, she rapped her knuckles against it three times, then four more: barely a pause in between. A little tune. A smile was already muscling its way on her lips, betraying her intentions, âEh! Rom, you there?â
Probably shirtless again.
Only Khari would be unfazed by that.
The door opened mid knock, but only a foot or so. Rom was not, in fact, shirtless, nor did he seem to be sweating or out of breath. Not climbing on his walls like a spider. A very muscled, broody eyed, decorated face spider. Done for the day with pushing his body to the limits, perhaps. He certainly didn't seem to need the extra work. What he did look like he needed was a pick me up of some sort, and from the glimpse Zahra could see inside his quarters, there weren't any of those empty little potion bottles sitting around anywhere.
Zahra was clearly not the pick me up he was looking for, though, and he took a deep breath in preparation for the storm. "What is it?" he droned, but he obviously knew exactly what it was. He was just leaving Zahra to say it, in case there was some miracle and she was here for something else entirely.
âI was expecting a warmer welcome,â Zahra planted a hand against the door and leaned on it. Not that she thought it would budge with Rom standing there like a rock repelling an oncoming monsoon. Stiff-arming her from entering the room. There was a vigilant look etched across his face, as if he knew why sheâd come. Perhaps, he did. All the more reason he should be thankful, honestly. She didnât step into peopleâs business unless she liked them, after all. If she didnât give a damn about them, she wouldâve let the issue die.
She glanced over his shoulder and peered into the room. Her eyes slid across his training equipment and slowly made its way back to his ownâwhich were unimpressed. He mightâve even been two seconds away from manhandling the door closed. It wouldnât take much. Though she wasnât going to give him any reason to. At least not until sheâd dragged him to a happier location. One where she wouldnât be blockaded out and forced to speak through a door. âYou look awful,â her tone wasnât unkind, just matter-of-fact, âIâve come to rescue you. Letâs go to the Heraldâs Rest.â
Even if her smile had dropped a fraction, her expression read as clear as day. She wouldnât take no as an answer.
Rom was not so thick as to miss that, nor as foolish to try and resist anyway. His sigh was one more of admitting defeat than any sort of aggravation. "Alright, then." Normally he might've asked if they intended to fetch Khari before they went. Well, normally it would be both Khari and Zee fetching him.
He let the door swing open a little while he stepped back to quickly tie on a pair of short boots and grab his cloak. As soon as he was ready he was out the door, closing it behind him. "Lead the way, rescuer."
âWise decision,â Zahra waggled her eyebrows at him and turned on her heels, leading the way back up the stairs. Fortunately there werenât many between the upper portion of Skyholdâs main floor, and the breezy Undercroft. The less stairs she had to scale, the better. She led them across the grounds, and readjusted the clasp on her own cloakâstill not quite used to the weather up in the mountains. At times, she missed the sweltering heat of the sun at her back. It made a cold goblet of ale seem like a little slice of heaven.
She toed the door open and stepped aside, letting Rom ahead of her, before letting it close behind them. Not that she thought heâd bolt at the first sign of discomfort⊠but maybe, he would. If he wasnât actively avoiding a particular subject, threading silence like a shield, she wasnât sure how he would react to being directly confronted with it. She drew four fingers up and winked at the barkeep. Unsurprisingly, the Heraldâs Rest wasnât busy at all. Apparently people had better things to do during the day. All the better for her, really.
Inclining her head towards the furthest corner of the tavern, Zahra sauntered ahead and plopped down on one of the long benches. Thereâd been many renovations to the space sheâd claimed as hers; the Riptideâs, in any case. While the room upstairs was occupied by Ves, sheâd brought in some of the more lavish items thatâd been in her captainâs quarters. Loads of pillows. Soft blankets, patch-worked and tasseled. Baubles and shiny objects hung from the rafters overhead. An odd arrangement that made her feel more at home. The tables, however, were the same as theyâd always been. She swung her gaze up at Rom expectantly and leaned her elbows on the table.
âWelcome to my little home away from home,â her smile widened as the one of the barmaids approached and settled a tray down with their drinks, walking off to tend to the few others who occupied the stools at the front. First sheâd cultivate a sense of security. Then strike, as one did. She slid one of the goblets across the table. Impatience would end the conversation as soon as it started.
To his credit, Rom was more at ease than she might've expected. Perhaps he had prepared for this. He had to have to known it was coming, after what she'd seen in the Fade, in his dream. His own wandering, dreaming mind betraying him. Not that she hadn't noticed such things already, but never in such a concrete, visual fashion. Audible too, with that funny little elf he'd called Brand prodding at him just as effectively.
The Herald removed his cloak and put himself at rest, draping the garment over the back of a chair which he then sank down into, taking the offered goblet and downing a long first gulp. He wasn't a bad drinker at all, as far as she'd seen. Maybe those colorful potions had something to do with it. "Alright," he said, as the warmth of the drink undoubtedly snaked through him. "Let's get this done."
Zahra, too, had shrugged herself out of her cloak and set it off to the side, rumples among the blankets. A smile stretched its way across her face as he took a long dreg of ale. She was curious about a lot of things, and as antsy as he was to get this over with, she thought it best to bring up another matter. It was something sheâd been meaning to bring up, but hadnât the opportunity until now. She lifted the goblet to her lips, and took her own gulp, before setting it back down.
âLetâs get this out of the way. Iâm nosy. We both know that. Iâd like to think all captains are, to a degree. Always in the know,â she rolled her eyes and slumped back against the pillows with a huff, âThose shiny little bottles of yours. Whatâre they for? Only caught a glimpse, a few times. Coming from a concerned friend and not a prattling mother, I swear.â Sheâd hardly pass as the latter in any given situation. A worried friend? Far more likely. Even then, she harbored no doubts that Rom knew what he was doing⊠though he had a tendency to push himself too far.
That was why she was asking.
He seemed a bit surprised that she chose to ask about that first. Not something he'd been preparing for, by the way he fidgeted, took another deep drink. His thoughts probably sloshing around his head while the ale sloshed down his throat. Setting the goblet down, he briefly wiped at his lips. "They're for protection from common types of offensive magic, mostly. Fire, frost, and lightning being the most common, but I have recipes for spirit, earth, arcane, that sort of thing. It was... necessary, I guess, when dealing with mages as I did in Tevinter. It works well against demons in the same way."
Rom sat up a little straighter, adjusting his shirt. Deciding whether to continue or not. "Tonics like that aren't uncommon. Mine are somewhat... unique. A few added effects that take more time and precision in the creation to get right."
âAre they safe to take?â Zahraâs eyebrows had slowly raised and come down as he explained exactly what they were. While she didnât really understand why he needed to take them, there was something else there. A specific reason. Perhaps, it was habit. Some remnant of dependence from days spent in Tevinter. A fear of sorts. She wouldnât have blamed him. His reaction hadnât done anything to smooth the concern from her face.
âI wasnât aware you could concoct tonics, to be honest. If theyâre not that uncommon, what makes yours unique?â
Beyond whatever Asala fed her, sheâd never taken any tonics, or potions. Even if they were readily available, she wasnât sure sheâd trust them enough to take. What if Rom was taking too many? Testing tonics on himself didnât seem⊠very safe. She wouldâve laughed if it didnât actually worry herâseeing how she was someone whoâd frequently take risks, dipping her toes in fool-hardy endeavors.
"They... put me into a different state of mind," he explained, though he didn't sound too proud of it. "One that helps me with a lot of things. It might be dangerous if I took too much, but I know my limits. I've been doing this for quite some time now. You don't have to worry."
A hm noise sounded. An assent of sorts. Who would know better than Rom himself? It wasnât as if she could stop him. If he needed this to⊠do whatever he needed to do, then she wouldnât question him further. Zahra fluffed up some of the pillows under her elbows and readjusted herself, âWell. Who am I to judge?â It was the clearest way to say that yes, she was worried, but she also trusted in his judgment.
There was a lull in conversationâone she allowed to grow and bloom, before straightening up in her seat and stippling her fingers together on the table. Zahraâs attempt to force a serious, contemplative frown onto her face failed miserably. She could already feel the cornerâs beginning to shift upwards. The warmth blooming in her belly felt more like a fervent thrill, rather than any inevitable drunken stupor. An excitement she couldnât quite contain because the next subject would be much more enjoyable.
At least to her.
âSo, onto the subject at hand,â she eyed him above the rim of her goblet, âI think it was about a tender, fiery redhead. Or was it⊠a sexy fiery redhead. I forgetâbut that was some dream.â
Rom let his head fall back against the chair, exhaling a very long, slow breath. Around the time she used the word sexy he began to take a very long, slow drink. To his credit, he wasn't really reddening now that they'd reached the subject he expected. "I would say I'm going to strangle that elf next time I see him, but... wasn't his fault." He set the goblet back down, meeting Zahra's eyes and enduring her excitement.
"Everyone has stupid dreams. I'm at a disadvantage, as I didn't get the opportunity to see yours." He seemed to expect that there might have been something worthwhile there that he'd missed out on. "Did you want to say anything in particular about mine, or are we just here to relive it?"
Zahraâs laugh was much softer this time, bereft of the edges it normally carried. She almost felt bad for bringing it up again. Almost. Not nearly enough to let it slide, though. It was the reason sheâd brought him here, after all. Having the upper hand in the teasing department? Priceless. While sheâd often poke fun at her crew whenever she had the chance, she found that she didnât often have as many opportunities here. The Inquisition was into some heavy business; from demon-slaying to facing off dragons, acquiring ugly scars in the process, and fending off mind-flaying creatures.
Who had time to enjoy snarky quips? Well. She still did. Others tended not to see the world in the same light.
"I liked himâBrand. My sort of fellow,â she wondered what became of him. If he was just a specter of a memory⊠there was a good chance he wasnât alive anymore, and that wasnât a question she was planning to pose. She untangled her fingers, and finished the last dredge of ale from her goblet before considering her next words. âYouâre right. Everyone does. I, for one, am glad you missed out on mine. It was⊠less amusing.â Sheâd let the subject die there. Leon and Cyrus had seen enough and it wasnât something she wanted to speak of.
She tilted her head to the side, âRelive it? Oh no. Thatâd be cruel.â A knowing smile tipped across her lips. Sheâd seen what sheâd needed to see. Anything else wouldâve made him squirm and despite all appearances, that wasnât her intention. âDo you love her?â
Regardless, her directness still made him squirm more than a little. At least, he shifted a bunch in his seat, switching which leg rested on the other, which side of his rear his weight would be on top of, which arm he let fall on the rest and which he used to support the side of his head for a moment.
"How should I know?" he said, frustrated, though it didn't seem to be directed at Zahra. He'd known what he was getting himself in for by following her to the Herald's Rest. He was frustrated at himself, more likely, as was usually the case. "I've never loved anyone. I care about her, I... feel things, IâI don't know. Does it matter?"
As delightful as his reaction was, Zahra couldnât seem to reach for a laugh. Her eyebrows pinched together. He didnât seem to know where to put himself. Granted being asked if you loved someone was uncomfortable enough⊠but not really knowing what that felt like in the first place, she couldnât imagine. Sheâd fallen in love plenty of times. Or else, sheâd thought so. Different flavors of it at least. More often than not, she had a warm bed. Though that didnât mean much. Had she truly loved anyone like she was asking? Perhaps. She liked to think that what she felt for her crew was as close as sheâd get.
A sigh sifted past her lips as she tapped her fingers across the wooden surface of the tableâthree times, as if to draw him back to the present and out of the frustrations he felt. Maker knows how baffling it would have been to combat feelings with someone who couldnât even fathom any innuendos from wrestling alone in a dark, dank cave. âIt does. It does matter.â She pushed errant curls of unruly hair behind her ear. Half-measures were luxuries in their line of business. A mistake. In more ways than one, they couldnât afford hesitance. Not now, not with what they were doing in the Inquisition.
Their lives werenât guaranteed.
âAlways time for something new, but our time⊠isnât assured, Rom,â she arched an eyebrow and studied his face, perhaps a little more seriously, âAre you fine with how things are now? With her not knowing how you feel?â
He spread the thumb and forefinger of his unmarked hand across his forehead momentarily, rubbing at the temples on either side, as though he'd developed a headache. Maybe he had. "She knows that I care," he said, letting the hand fall away. "She knows how important she is to me, more or less, she justâ" He stopped himself short, again seeming thoroughly annoyed with the words he was saying, as though none of them sounded right when they came out.
"Look, if you want to discuss this, there's something you need to understand." He leaned forward, resting his elbows upon his knees and touching the ends of his fingers together. "But it's... I need to know you can keep this to yourself. I don't think even Khari knows this, and I don't know how I could talk to her about it."
If Rom didnât look so damn conflicted, Zahra mightâve huffed at the accusation that sheâd run off blabbing to the woman in question. She wouldnâtânot like this, not when he looked like that. Even she knew better. Meddling in another way? Highly probable. If she didnât try to bring them together, what kind of friend would she be? Besides, there was a good chance Khari wouldnât know what she was talking to or outright not believe her.
âTell her? What would the point in that be? It has to come from you. Only you.â
He let out another long breath, took another drink. "Alright." He went so far as to check the tavern around them, to make sure no one else had wandered into easy earshot of the conversation. "Chryseis Viridius, my former domina, owner, required many things of me. I was her agent and her blade, but other times I had other uses. Her husband was killed in fighting with the Qunari, and she hasn't yet remarried, as far as I know. Sometimes, when she was... frustrated, or angry, or when she just felt like it, she would call upon me to... to attend to her needs." Maybe Khari wouldn't have caught the meaning of that, but it was quite obvious what he meant from the way he said it, and the context.
"I did that for her for... five, six years? There was no refusing her. I didn't have the power to, not then. At the time it was... it was hardly the worst thing she asked of me, I thought. But..." It was easy to see the strain the admission brought upon him. Something approaching physical pain. "Every time I've thought of Khari in that way, it goes back to her, no matter how much I'd prefer to forget it. No matter how different I think it would be, or feel. I wish I didn't think of her that way at all, but I can't stop that, either." He sat back again, shaking his head. "It's stupid, anyway. Selfish. We have better things to be doing, and this just... it would just threaten what we do have."
âIâm sorry.â It came out as a breathy whisper. Zahra meant it. For what little she knew Rom had gone through⊠sheâd known most of his experiences in Tevinter had been wholly unpleasant. He was a slave. Something that belonged to someone else. That someone would use him for those purposes wasnât all that surprising but it still left a bitter taste in her mouth. While it differed from a marriage born of convenience, there were similarities there. However invisible his wounds were, this Chryseis had left her mark on him. Twisted the way he saw the world. Gnarled the way he viewed love.
A small muscle jumped along her jawline. She hoped that this woman was rotting somewhere, paying for her deeds. It wasnât likely. Life had a funny way of ignoring justice. Tevinterâs moral objectivity did not align with theirs. What was deplorable here, was welcome and encouraged there. She reached across the table and took hold of one of his hands, eyeing him earnestly. âDarling thatâs where youâre wrong⊠it doesnât matter where, or when you are. Whatâs worse than dying without having spoken your mind? Nothing. I promise you that.â
She squeezed the side of his hand and paused for a moment. Her eyes softened. âThereâs a difference between what you were subjected to and a love youâre not sure you deserve. Donât accept any less. Not nowânot when youâve changed so much.â This time, she laughed. âYou know, Iâd like nothing better than to see you two together. Bloody hell, she feels something too. That much is obvious. Whatever that something is, seems like neither of you are willing to admit it.â He hadnât seen her at Adamant Keep. Hadnât seen how she reacted to the collapsing bridge.
Zahra gave him one final pat on the hand before releasing it. She flopped back down on the bench and regarded him levelly, âLove isnât just an emotion. What youâre feeling now, itâs important. Eventually, itâll become important enough to say and I hope that you do. Sheâs as thick as a sword, that one.â There was another pause, before she nodded her head, âIâm on your side, for what itâs worth.â
He swallowed uncomfortably, offering her a tiny little smile, gone as soon as it came. Forced, entirely. "Thanks. I appreciate that, Zee." It was hard to tell if the talk had made him feel better or worse, and it sure didn't seem like he was going to get up and tell her right now. Maybe he'd even been resolved against it. It was impossible to say.
But it did seem as though he was done speaking about it, as he exhaled shakily and got to his feet, finishing the last of his drink. "And thanks for the drinks. I needed it. I should really be getting back, though." It didn't seem likely that he had that much work to do, if anything at all. Probably just an excuse to find some solitude again, but he seemed insistent on it, at least.
âI. Love. You,â Punctuated into three, slowly spoken words, as Zahra bowed her head and glanced up between newly fallen curls, obscuring her sly eyes, âYou should practice it in your spare time.â She patted the table, indicating that she would be here if she was needed, âI'll be here, as always.â
Time waited for no one. Least of all those who could not love themselves.