"I'm fine, really," Rook protested, but for a man barely an inch taller than her he scooped her up as though she weighed nothing. Gods but this would be desperately romantic if she didn't feel just a little bit like the mystery meat stew and stale bread were rolling around in her stomach, threatening to make a reappearance.

For a moment, when he set her down, her fingers dug into the material of his shirt before relaxing, her arms sliding off of his shoulders to wrap around her middle. "Sleep, probably," she drawled with a wry smile, closing her eyes for a moment and tipping her head back to rest it against whatever firm surface--headboard, wall, she hadn't really looked--was behind her. "I don't know what happened, I was just thinking about Neve and Harding and...and Varric."