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"Ouch!"
"Rayvn, you have to stick the needle where your finger isn't."
"I'm trying Merrill. Do you think I enjoy stabbing my fingerprints off?"
"Well, if you do, you'll be a better thief for it," Isabela chimed in from where she dangled her torso from the couch. She stabbed haphazardly onto her fabric. Was she even looking at it? "They can't catch you if you leave behind no fingerprints."
"Ouch!"
"Oh, Ray, do you want me to show you how to hold it again?"
"No!" Rayvn shot a glare at the elf next to her, who was effortlessly weaving her needle through the fabric. She already had five flowers embroidered. Rayvn had…blood on hers. She pulled a face. While she appreciated the girls' attempts to distract her from…well, everything, she would have preferred something a little less…pokey. "Ow! Maker's breath…" Rayvn stuck her middle finger in her mouth to catch the blood. "And this is relaxing to you?"
Merrill's head shot up, her big eyes nearly taking up her whole face now with shock. "Yes! Is it not for you? You must not be doing it right."
"Yeah, do better, Hawke," Isabela shot back, holding up her fabric hoop. It displayed a poorly embroidered middle finger and inside a jagged heart. "I find this to be very soothing. Perhaps next I'll embroider the faces of my enemies so I can stab them repeatedly in the face."
Pouting at Isabela, Merrill slumped in her seat. "You're supposed to make something nice, Isabela. Something to decorate your home, or as a present for someone. It is like painting, but with a needle and thread."
Squeezing a drop of blood from her finger, Rayvn said sadly, "Well mine is just going to be painted with my blood, I think. Maybe I'll just stitch around the bloodstains. Maybe that'll be nice enough for the wall."
From the other side of the table, Aveline set down her hoop. On it were two stick people and what looked to be a sack, a sword, and lopsided stack of fruit. "This has been incredibly relaxing. I shall bring this into my home when Donnic and I are married next year."
Isabela slid off the couch and skipped to the table. She leaned over Aveline's shoulder, quirking an eyebrow at the bare fabric. "Um, Aveline, why are they all the same shade of brown? You do realize Merrill brought us a dozen colors?"
"Why? This is meant to be a representation of the dowry I could not provide. It is a dowry in art form." Aveline crossed her arms. "Your is foul, as usual. Can you not create something from the heart?" She paused before continuing, not giving Isabela a chance to breathe. "Oh, I forgot. That's because you don't have one."
The pirate narrowed her eyes. With a harrumph, she slipped into the empty seat, kicking it back and leaning her boots against the edge. "Perhaps I just keep mine hidden away from savages like you who never learned the proper way to flirt."
With a snort, Aveline swept her leg behind Isabela's chair, knocking it off its last two legs. Isabela crashed to the floor, cursing the whole way. Merrill leaped to her feat. "Oh, Creators! Why must we fight? This is supposed to be a fun girls' day!"
Rayvn cried out again, pulling the needle from her index finger. "I am going to bleed out and die if I stab my fingers again! Could you all just sit quietly for thirty seconds?"
All three women swiveled their heads toward Hawke, their eyes wide in disbelief. "You can't be serious," Isabela said, looking up from her unnatural crumple on the floor.
"You do realize you did almost bleed out a month ago from that Arishok blade," Aveline said, her voice taking on that no nonsense ring when she was in guard-captain mode. "I don't think your little needle could inflict even a fraction of the damage."
Rayvn huffed, slumping in her seat. "Well, it feels like that," she grumbled. She absently rubbed the sore spot on her abdomen, still incredibly tender despite Anders' ministrations. He might have repaired a great deal of the damage to her body, but there was only so far that his magic could go. She would have a gnarly scar from the thick blade, and she didn't even want to think about the damage to her internal organs. She could barely move without intense pain, and there was still the concern of her wound opening back up. Her appetite was still pretty much nonexistent. She knew Anders was concerned she would waste away if she didn't start eating more than a few bites here and there.
Her eyes glazed over the small platter of treats in the middle of the table. Little pastries, cubes of cheese, crackers, and dried strips of meat littered the wood, mixed all together from the girls grabbing at different snacks over the last hour or so. Her stomach clenched. She hadn't had a single bite, and she knew her three friends had each clocked that. With a sigh, Rayvn sat her embroidery hoop on the table. Leaning her forehead down on it, she mumbled, "I think I'll just go back to bed, if one of you ladies can help me up."
Chairs scraped against the floor as all three women pushed their way to Hawke's side. "Not until you eat something," Aveline demanded. She pressed a pastry into Rayvn's hand and lifted it to her friend's mouth.
Rayvn shook her head, the sugary coating dusting against her lips. "I'm fairly confident that my stomach was destroyed by the Arishok's blade. There is no place for food to go."
"Well that's a load of rot," Isabela retorted. She pushed herself up to sit on the table to Rayvn's left. "I know for a fact that you still poop, so your stomach must be sending food somewhere."
"Oh, Isabela, must you talk about that?" Merrill's nose was crinkled in disgust. "That's incredibly personal, and rather gross."
"Everybody does it." Isabela shrugged. Tilting her head back, she dropped a cube of cheese into her open mouth.
Hawke stifled a laugh, feeling the twinge of pain from the effort. "You do most of all, Bela," she teased. With a sharp wince, Rayvn laid her head back on the table. "Thank you Merrill, for the girls' day. It was…nice, despite the bloody fingertips. I'm a bit tired now."
She could hear, rather than see, the look that passed between the three women. Finally, she heard Aveline sigh. "Of course, Rayvn. Up you get."
It was a slow trek from the table in front of the fireplace up the stairs. Anders had expressed the importance of rest and exercise. Thankfully, he seemed satisfied with just the stairs being her exercise. It would most likely be several more weeks before she could walk unassisted, and possibly months more before she could leave her house. To see the Kirkwall she had left. Rayvn wondered what it was like; if it was worth the sacrifice. The rebuilding was taking up a significant amount of Aveline's soldiers, many of them volunteering their strength to clean up the wreckage left behind by the Qunari.
After an agonizingly long walk, she finally collapsed into her bed, her face screwed up in pain. "Please tell me I still have some of the tonics Anders left for me," she whined into her pillow.
A bottle uncorked next to her ear. "Drink up, Ray," Isabela crooned. "Finally, something you can take shots of that don't leave you a puking mess on the floor."
Glowering, Rayvn took the small vial and threw it back with vigor. Hissing at the sour taste, she spat, "You obviously were not here the first few times he gave it to me. Thought I was going to die all over again from puking out of a gushing wound."
"You didn't die the first time," Aveline said harshly. "Stop changing the story."
"Sorry, old habits die hard." She could already feel the potion flowing through her body, sapping the pain from her muscles and replacing them with a heaviness that sent a syrupy sleepiness through her. Yawning, she grappled for her blanket, pulling it to her chin when she found it. "See if Sandal and Orana want the leftovers," she mused drowsily. "Hate to see them wasted."
The three friends stared down at Hawke, already asleep. A soft snore escaped her, and the three of them trickled out of the room. "I'll go fetch Varric," Merrill said brightly, blinking back tears that glistened in her eyes. "Tell him it's time for his shift at Ravyn's side." She was out the door before either Isabela or Aveline could object.
Turning her eyes to Aveline, the pirate raised an eyebrow. "Have you updated Fenris on Rayvn's status?"
With a huff, Aveline swiped her finished embroidery from the table, tucking it into her small pack. "I would if he would open his door. Somehow, I doubt he's just standing on the other side listening to me with rapt attention. More like he's brooding in his room, isolating himself from the outside world."
"He does realize he's hopelessly in love with her, right?"
Rolling her eyes, Aveline shook her head. "I doubt he's got enough self-respect to realize anything right now." She sighed, casting a look back up at Rayvn's doorway. "He will end up breaking both of their hearts if he continues on this way. I know she misses him, but she won't say it because then it'll show weakness. And she feels she's shown enough weakness of late."
"Well, sounds to me he's being a great big—"
"Watch your mouth, Isabela. I doubt he'd be too keen to hear what clever nickname you've concocted for her." A giant book tucked under his arm, Varric pushed his way into the room, a goofy smile spreading across his face. "When he finally gets here, he'll run you through, lyrium tattoos and all."
Now both women crossed their arms. "And you're so sure of this how?" Aveline asked, eyes narrowing.
Varric reached for the last pastry, smacking at Isabela's hand as she reached for it too. "Because I've been making myself an unwelcome guest in his house for the past four weeks, finishing Rayvn's work of teaching Broody how to read." Shrugging, he took a bite of the pastry, crumbs of crust gathering in the corners of his mouth. "He's a pretty good student when he puts his mind to it. He's going to help me read a story to Rayvn to keep her sleeping."
Mouth agape, Aveline stumbled over her next words. "And how did you convince him? I can't even get him to open his door when I come with my daily report of her health?"
"Easy, Guard-Captain. I don't take no for an answer."
Her lip curled. "Bold of you to assume that I do."
"From your men? No, of course not. But from an elf with a fragile ego and a broken heart? You're a big old softy. Also, it helps that I am not the face of the law. I can get into places others can't."
Isabela giggled. "You sly man," she teased, winking at Varric as she swept from the room. "You'll get yourself arrested telling Aveline too much, one of these days."
"Naw, I ain't worried about that."
Aveline rubbed her forehead with her fingers. "You are lucky you and Hawke are two of my dearest friends, Varric," she murmured. "You wouldn't find such mercy any other place."
"I wouldn't expect it any other way." Varric grinned. "Now, make way for the nursemaids. We have a job to do."
Aveline passed Fenris on her way to the street. He stood to the side of Rayvn's front door, his face contorted in what seemed to be agony. She refrained from asking what troubled the elf, only nodded and continued on her way. Perhaps he needed this just as much as Rayvn did.
She wondered if Rayvn would wake before Fenris left, as he was sure to disappear at the first stirrings of life.
"Aveline."
She turned quickly, surprised to hear him address her.
Fenris still faced the door, his hand now pressed upon the stone facade of the estate. "Thank you, for being with her today."
"Thank you for coming to stay."
He turned to face her now, shock softening his features. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, before thinking better of whatever he would say. Ducking his head, Fenris pushed the door open, and disappeared inside.
Perhaps, this was the first step toward forgiving himself for the sins he felt he had committed against Ravyn.