When you were sick on the streets, you had to find a place to hide for a few days, or more, otherwise risk getting mugged or taken advantage of, or…worse. I once chose a box to hide in, and almost got shipped to Antiva. Now, even here, in Skyhold, old habits die hard, yeah? Got tons of walls, people with swords and bows, and even…mages…but when you're sick, nowhere's safe.

Right, stupid, then why'd you come to Inky's room?

Shite-stupid fever. Stupid body. You can take care of yourself, you have to. It's the way it was, and the way it is now.

Everything's hot and wet and achy. But the worst part is always the dreams. Everytime I closed my eyes, I can see it: rain pouring down, feet passing my face, no one noticing the drenched box that was now full of elf. Of me.

"Sera?"

Must've fallen asleep, because now Inky's looking under her desk I'm sleeping under. Those green-gold eyes looking caring – like she cares. Something in me wants her to take care of me, bring me to her bed and care for me… Piss. I can't have that. "Go away!"

Inky was undeterred as usual. That was the thing about her – elves were supposed to shrink. Yes ma'am, no ma'am, yes sir, no sir. Or, in her case, let's all just sit here and cry about the past that we forgot. But Inky wasn't like that at all. Sure she got scared, nervous, confused about why humans did the things they go, but with things that mattered, she was firm. Like her bum.

Inky's dark brown hair dangled above me as she squatted down and leaned over to take a closer look. "Leliana told me when we returned that no one could find you. What are you doing-?" She stopped. "You're sick! Very sick!"

Ugh, caring. Stop it – can't have that. "Go away, I said. How'd you find me anyway?"

Inky peeked around the front of the desk. "…Intuition."

"Intuwha?" I asked groggily. Shite, the woman knew too many big words.

Inky gave me a cheeky smirk. "Your legs are sticking out from underneath."

I laughed, but my wind left me and I began to cough again.

Inky began tugging on my arm. "Come on; let's get you to my bed."

That sounded…nice. Lying in bed with Inky? Always nice. I let her drag me a few inches before I remembered – no one can take care of you but yourself. On the streets and even here. The day Inky is gone, no one's gonna pamper you and make you feel better, yeah? Can't let this happen.

I pulled away, wanting to sound firm, but my body wouldn't let me. "No…"

Inky sat back on her haunches. "No?" She paused, and then looked embarrassed. "…Oh. I-I didn't mean that, I mean to take care of you."

"I know. And you can't," I replied. "I'll get used to it – all that caring."

Inky smiled a little too gently, touching my hot, sweaty shoulder. Stop looking at me like that – I'll want things. Her voice was too soothing. "You should get used to it, because I am a caring person."

I frowned and curled up, showing my back to her. "No. You don't understand."

Inky sighed and sat down on the cool floor next to me. Probably thinking, 'Oh Sera, you're such a child,' like everyone else does. Don't have enough fingers and toes to count how many times I've heard that from old lovers and friends. Though, maybe not, right? Inky had this never-ending patience with me, with almost everyone. I guess she got it from living in a clan where everyone…cared…for each other. And their brats, probably, but I don't like to think about it. The life all us "elves" should live.

Inky suddenly stood up with a swift motion. Crap, did she hear my thoughts? I peeked up at her from over my shoulder to see her looking down at me, hands on her hips, and her eyes full and bright. "Fine. I'll leave you alone for now. Do you want a blanket? Or a pillow?"

Still caring. I sniffed. "No…"

Inky circled around the desk. "Alright. Go back to sleep."

I watched her feet walk away from underneath the desk. Inky didn't understand. She grew up with family, with friends, with the other tattooed nature loving elfy elves. They took care of each other, trusted each other. You couldn't trust anyone on the streets. No one, but yourself. The day Inky leaves, I'll be on my own again. No one to trust, no one to take care of me. Crap, tears are coming. Piss, Sera, get over yourself. Everyone leaves. Every. One. But you can't leave yourself. Yourself is the only person that can take care of you.

But Inky, I don't want her to leave, not now. Where is she going? I turned on my stomach, looking out from under the desk. "W-where are you going?"

The feet headed back my way and Inky leaned over to look at me from underneath the desk. "I'm disgusting, and I stepped in goat cra…dung…three times."

I snorted in amusement. Inky never liked to curse – too polite for that. Like Lady Priss Ambassador. But Bull and I were rubbing off on her – adding to her vocabulary. Inky went away again, to the washroom, I guess. Damn the floor is cold – but I like it. Sweat is pouring in, out, down, and around everywhere…even there.

…It would be nice, though, just once, to be taken care of… Once wouldn't hurt, would it? I can be like Lady Emmald who kept a bell by her bed. She would ring it for her servants, sometimes for me, but I was having fun and causing trouble in long distances. But Inky would stay close by, maybe.

I crawled out from under the desk – gotta see if Inky is still close by. She was – in the washroom, disrobing. All the shirts and leathers came off first and I couldn't help but bite my lip at her long, lean back. Woof. Never thought I would use that word to describe an elf – usually reserved for big women. Big, strong women. Double woof. But Inky was nice in all the right places, especially her hips…and butt. Andraste, imagine lying in Inky's soft lap…being…taken care of. Inky staring down at me with those strange green-gold eyes that turned dark green when they were full of love, but almost bright yellow in battle or in bright sunlight. An old human lover once fumed at me for having "weird" eyes too – 'How can I write you poetry when I can't tell what color they are?! Sometimes they looked brown, hazel, blue, and even black!' Humans and their shite romantic poetry – never had an elf or dwarf that cared for the stuff. I laughed a little too hard and a little too long. Love didn't like being laughed at like that, so I lost it. But I would laugh just as hard and just as long, if not longer, at Inky, but her love stayed. Patient. Was that love?

Well, in any case, I'm hot and sick and now I want things. I want a soft lap, I want dark green eyes, and I want caring. It wasn't okay to want these things – to let someone take care of me again, like my parents, like Lady Emmald, like my other lovers and friends, who all left. But still, I wanted it. Inky was loony, and it made me loony too. It made me want to believe in something, anything, but especially that Inky was different from the others.

I must've dozed off again, because Inky was suddenly squatting over her, looking down at me with an amused but loving smile. Inky's knack for silently appearing was true to her rogue nature, but it also made her seem like some sort of guardian spirit. Always there, even if you didn't know it. Inky was now dressed in those weird pajama-clothes picked out for her.

"Ready to be taken care of?" she chuckled, squatting down and offering her hand again.

"N-no! …Maybe…" I mumbled. I thought back to my thoughts. Just this once, let her take care of you. Just once. It won't hurt. Just once. I looked down, feeling a rush of new warmth spreading up to my ears. "…Maybe just this once, yeah?"

I used that word a lot with Inky – maybe. Maybe I like you too. Maybe if we travel together more, maybe. I dunno, maybe. Couldn't help being unsure of Inky at first – was she elfy? Would she try to pull out the 'we all need to be miserable and cry about the past together' card? Would she stay in the past and leave me, who just…lived…behind?

But this is nice. Inky is nice. Inky is patient, and waited for those maybes. Inky lives. Inky doesn't sulk in the past. She looks forward. If she didn't, the Inquisition would be pretty screwed, wouldn't it?

Inky smiled that warm smile that drove me crazy. "Of course. Just this once."

I grabbed the marked hand and squeezed. Inky slowly helped me onto my feet and then guided me to the bed. I flopped onto the now familiar bed gratefully, burying my face into the pillows, feeling my nose leak and form into a wet spot. Marking it – this was my pillow, my shared bed, fuck off everyone else. I heard Inky walk away again so I lifted my head off the pillow to watch where she was going. "Inky?"

She didn't turn around; instead she walked into the washroom and took a washcloth off the wall. She began dunking it in the cold water basin. "It's okay, I'm right here."

I frowned. "Don't like you there – like you here. Cm'ere."

She laughed lightly and squeezed out the cloth. "Patience."

I have none, but I'm too weak to throw a fit. Didn't have to wait long for her return, though, because Inky returned with the soaked cloth in her hands. I rolled onto my back and watched Inky approach with the soaked cloth. She sat down next to me head and gently washed my face. Piss, fuck, shite that was cold! I held back my protests, because I wanted her here. Wanted her touching me and cooling me down. It sucks being sick. With that thought, another came to my mind.

"Don't care if you get sick?" I asked weakly, not sure why though, I didn't want the answer to be 'oh you're right' and then have her leave.

But Inky just ran her long fingers through my hair, combing the wet strands aside.

"No," she replied simply.

I wondered at that. Would I take care of her if she was the one that was sick? Probably not, right? All that snot and sweat. Well, I don't mind sweat, because, obviously, but the other fluids, 'Ew,' right? …Right? I glanced up at her, looking into her calm eyes. Green. Dark green. …Well, if it was Inky, for Aila, maybe I would grin and bear it. But I dunno, maybe. I'm sick and not her, after all. No use in thinking about something that hasn't happened yet. Right now, all I know is that Inky is taking care of me, and it made me…happy. It made me want things. Things I refused to want before. Things I couldn't want before.

"Your lap," I mumbled, feeling everything begin to shut off. I reached out my arms behind my head and latched onto Inky's long legs. "Cm'ere."

She scooted over and lifted my head onto her lap. Soft. With a quick twist, I turned over and laid my head up against Inky's stomach, curling up my arms and shoulders into the fleshy part of Inky's legs. She continued to wash me, trailing the cold cloth up and down my back and neck. This was nice.

Still, sleep didn't want to come, so I watched and listened to her calm breathing. Seeing the thin stomach rise slightly, pressing against my nose, and then falling back. When it fell back, I saw that my nose marked it. Mine.

Inky was mine, and in my haze, I saw the first time I had thought that. She was on her back, flushed from our kissing, panting, and her eyes dark green. Her strange eyes. "Inky?"

"Yes, Sera?"

"What color are my eyes when I love you?"

Inky looked down at my face, a smirk slowly rising on her lips. "Dark steel. It suits you."

"Not strange? Or…weird?"

"No, they're beautiful."

Crap, she was so good at words. Words were stupid, but they felt nice. Much like other stupid things. Her words made me feel silly, made the temperature rise on my face and ears. I quickly buried my head back into her stomach and blew a raspberry into it.

When she laughed, her thin stomach shook slightly. "I'm sorry, too cheesy?"

I laughed into the cloth and flesh, making everything under my lips vibrate slightly. "Honeytongue, you…"

Inky's hand combed my hair again, just running her hand along until it reached the ends of my hair, before lifting and coming back down on the top of my head to repeat the sliding and combing motion. It was making me sleepy. I yawned and let my eyes close, drifting off in the warmth of Inky's – of Aila's – body. This is nice, just this once, yeah?

Just this once.

Maybe.

More than once.

For the rest of my life.