Something on Your Mind?
Due to the escalation in darkspawn activity, Eleanor suddenly found her home transformed into a bustling outpost for soldiers and spies. She felt as though it must be one of the best-kept secrets in the country - the world? - that all of these people from a land, a world, that was not her own were currently pouring in and fighting off an invader that rest of the world knew nothing about.
Well, most of the rest of the world.
She’d received a few surprising letters from what seemed to be her counterparts in other cities, states, countries, people whom Leliana had somehow gotten in with years ago, via her mysterious agents, and used as touchstones, contacts, to learn about this world, this reality. It was strange to read them, letters coming from places she recognized describing things that had not been a part of this world but had slowly - well, fairly quickly - become a part of her everyday life. She wondered if this all had been as weird for them as it had been for her, or if they’d somehow had some prior knowledge of the other world that seemed to lie millions of miles, but just a rift, away.
Sometimes Eleanor would lie awake at night and futily wonder if there were other worlds she might be able to jump to if she wanted, other lands she could get to through a rip in the sky. She wondered if maybe there were hundreds, or thousands, or hundreds of thousands; or, if, perhaps, these two, these places that had already met and the Fade that seemed to both separate and join them were the only ones at all, and that the rest of reality was just a quiet, empty place. She couldn’t decide which of these potentials scared her more.
It was just one of the things that kept her up at night.
Eleanor didn’t know what was causing the strange dreams she kept having, but each time she had one she felt like she could remember a little more than last time. She wasn’t even sure if it was the same dream or if, upon waking, they each just felt a little bit like the last, in the way that dreams do. All she knew was that when she woke up, she felt stiff, crunched, and as though she hadn’t really slept, and it wasn’t just the fall air that was slowly creeping in that made her feel cold, made her shiver.
“How have you been sleeping?” she asked Cullen in what she thought was an entirely innocuous way. They were cleaning up from breakfast, Cullen drying the dishes and putting them as Eleanor washed. He knew the kitchen about as well as she did at this point; since the influx of soldiers had arrived, Cullen used his skills off of the battlefield more than on, and sometimes that meant helping with the dishes to help Eleanor retain her sanity. But he turned to Eleanor and smiled, so she figured he must not mind his more domestic role too terribly.
“Not bad at all,” he said earnestly. “That bed is one of the softest things I’ve ever slept on.”
“Good, good,” Eleanor said, turning back to the sink.
As she reached for the sponge, Cullen swayed a bit and bumped his shoulder with hers. “Something on your mind, Ellie?”
She almost opened her mouth, almost told him, but a moment of doubt washed over her. They were just dreams, and she was more stressed than she had been in a very long time - possibly ever; all of her previous stressors had been personal. This was a much more global stress. Maybe it was nothing. It was probably nothing.
She shook her head and washed ketchup off of a white plate.