Post reblogged from Hey Look, There's Stuff. with 11 notes
Mistress Woolsey laid down her quill and pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. She’d been hunched over dusty books for at least three candlemarks, and her head ached from squinting at the faded brown ink.
These accounts - these bloody accounts, she thought defiantly, though whom she was defying, she wasn’t quite sure - were an absolute mess. How did anyone get anything done? Brave and deadly the Wardens may be, but they had no concept of organization.
Bloody Wardens.
The door to her office creaked open and she jumped, narrowly avoiding poking herself in the eye. There was only one person who would feel free to stroll in at this late hour without knocking: Varel. Wonderful. More bickering about procedure was the last thing she needed. He never let her forget that she was an outsider, and Fereldans had their own way of doing things. She half expected him to start marking his territory like a dog.
He had some good points, she supposed. He was certainly efficient. He wasn’t bad-looking, either, but a full head of hair and a fine backside only got you so far.
She barely managed to smooth her hair back and put on her best imperious expression before he made it all the way into the room. “Yes?” she said.
“I brought you…I thought you could use…well, here.” He held out a steaming mug.
She eyed it dubiously. “What is that?”
“It’s chocolate, from Antiva. Came in on the last caravan,” he replied.
She accepted the mug and blew across the top to cool it before taking a sip. It was smooth and sweet and rich and certainly the most delicious thing she’d tasted since coming to Ferelden. She closed her eyes, a small sigh of appreciation slipping out before she could stop it.
“Thank you,” she said.
He responded with a nod and a noncommittal grunt. Was he blushing? Surely not. She’d been sitting in the dim light too long, and her eyes were playing tricks on her. Either that, or living with the Wardens had finally driven her as mad as they were.
When they’d first met, the first thing she noticed had been the lovely color of his eyes. Of course, that good impression had fled the moment he opened his mouth, but they were still nice, and here, in the glow of the candle…well. She scratched “not bad-looking” out of her mental ledger and replaced it with “quite handsome, in the right light”.
Her eyes met his over the rim of the mug. She smiled, and for a fleeting moment he looked startled. Then he smiled back, and she stopped thinking about accounts altogether.
Absolutely lovely!
Source: janiejanine
This is really is lovely. I love the tone of it, almost businesslike, very Woolsey.
Absolutely lovely!