The girl rubs her own with a giggle. 

Once Aria is inside the baths, she takes both Aria's and Leliana's things, and disappears.

"Was she all right?" Leliana asks with genuine concern.

"She's OK now, I think. We could've done something about it if the older Howe was still in charge, but if they don't have any complaints about Nathaniel then it seems like the situation's probably resolved itself."

"I'm glad to hear the younger Howe is better than his father, though saddened that the poor thing ever had to live with a man that would cause such fear. The servants at Lady Cecile's homes always had such clever tongues."

She raises an eyebrow at this, but decides not to dive into a comparison of whose elf servants are best off. Instead, she sinks into the water and holds her head in her hands for a moment. "I'm so tired. I imagine everyone is, at this point, but - Maker."

"I do not blame you. Or me. This last month has felt like an entire age."

Leliana sinks a little lower herself, closing her eyes. "You must take much comfort from knowing your family is safe now, however."

"I mean it's better than them not being safe. If they even are, apparently the darkspawn are just running wherever they please now. Denerim's a pit now, though, which I imagine isn't super great for anyone's morale." She sighs. "Any thoughts on the three guys who may or may not all be joining us? Nathaniel seems OK and obviously knows how to use his bow, and having a mage along will be a help, so I guess it makes plenty of sense to invite them. I dunno that we know anything about Zevran."

"Oh, he had me pegged from the second I walked in. As did I for him. One assassin knows another, after all. Those knives he carries are certainly not for show."

"Well that's lovely. As long as he doesn't knife us in the back, I guess. I imagine he's pretty keen on the world sticking around, though. I think most people manage to find something of value in it when it isn't a darkspawn-infested wasteland."

"He did seem the most willing to lend a hand. One does wonder what a possible Antivan Crow was doing so far from home, however."

"Yeah," she agrees, and then thinks about it for a second. "Uhh, what's an Antivan Crow, exactly?"

"A shadowy assassin organisation, based in Antiva. You could say they are Antiva, as much a part of the city as bricks and mortar. Not like the bards of Orlais, who serve at the feet of nobility."

"Well. As long as you have an eye on him, I guess," says Aria, before attempting to rinse the rest of the darkspawn blood off of herself. Eventually she decides that she's passably clean, and steps out of the bath to dry herself off.

"He won't get a single chance," Leliana promises, and does the same.

The servant has left two neat piles of clothes, and they will notice their boots have been scraped of mud and blood.

She is really tremendously grateful for the lack of mud and blood. She dresses herself and then heads off to sleep in a proper bed, for the first time in far too many weeks.

The servant girl guides her and Leliana to two rooms close to each other, smiling at them both before bowing and taking her leave.

Later on, Sten and Alistair are shown to rooms opposite.

She'll just stay in this room and sleep, then. And maybe cry really quietly, for a bit. It doesn't count if nobody sees or hears you, you can still go back to being a serious and competent Grey Warden in the morning.

She's up before sunrise the next day, wandering around the kitchens in search of more bread. She decides to let her companions sleep in, on the theory that it'll leave them better equipped to travel later on.

Zevran is in the kitchens when she wakes, and it's clear from the way his face falls from an easy smile to vague concern that Aria's eyes are still a little puffy. 

"Sleep well?" He offers instead of sympathy. He's not sure if she would appreciate that.

"Yeah! Dirt is not remotely underrated as a sleeping surface, it turns out beds are actually far superior. You?"

"Like any man hell-bent on keeping himself alive mid-apocalypse, like a baby."

He offers her a slice of the apple he's cutting. "Merina will be back in a moment, she's checking on someone's armour."

"The servant girl? I forgot to ask her name, she's been incredibly helpful with getting stuff cleaned up. Darkspawn blood, also not remotely underrated." She accepts the apple slice and tells herself that if it were poisoned that would be super out of left field. And also liable to get everyone in the world killed. Possibly this is the sort of reasoning process that should inspire caution, but she's hungry.

"...your bard friend told you what I was, I take it?"

"She's sure about the assassin bit and guessing you're an Antivan Crow. I have only the vaguest understanding of what that even is. Something something killing people."

Something very much like relief blossoms on Zevran's features. "I guess assuming an Orlesian assassin is a bard is much like assuming an Antivan a Crow. She's not wrong, however. I will admit killing people are rather large part of it."

He cuts himself a slice of the apple and eats it rather pointedly. "If it soothes you, I will forever be in the dark as to who my target was. I was to go to Denerim and meet Arl Howe, who originally hired us. Whoever I was supposed to put a knife to lives on freely. Possibly."