So this is a short little three chapter story that takes place before the Revelations Quest. Unlike my FanFic Two-Hundred Roses, which I tell from Blackwall's third-person perspective, I'm telling this one from my Inquisitor's first-person perspective. And don't worry; you don't have to read Two-Hundred Roses to enjoy this one, but I would really appreciate it if you did!
In Roses, this scene is played out as a memory, but I've always wanted to go back and write it from the Inquisitor's pov. I decided to play around in my Inquisitor's head for the weekend, it's been rather fun.
A Fiendish Friend
Chapter I: Inquisitorial Thoughts
Blackwall was waiting for me in the main hall when I came down from my quarters. His eyes wandered over me, taking in my disheveled appeared. I wasn't wearing anything fancy, just a pair of riding pants and an old tunic. If I mentioned his gawking, he would immediately deny it. But I could tell by the way he looked at me that he had momentarily forgotten what he was going to say.
I moved past him and he finally remembered, he was on my heels in a second. Even though he was twice my size and stronger in every aspect when he grabbed my wrist it was gentle. I could talk the talk, flirt with him all I liked, and then be embarrassed about it later, but whenever we touched I couldn't stop the creeping heat in my face. I had told him I was going to pursue him—I wasn't doing it very well—but now that he was starting to take notice, now that his defenses were crumbling, I found myself growing more and more nervous whenever he was around. And this sudden taking of my hand wasn't helping me.
"My lady, I know it was a gift, but I have seen these beasts at tourney shows." He said softly. For someone who commanded quite the presence, Blackwall was surprisingly sweet and kind. "They're smart, and not horse smart, my lady, predator smart."
I tried to calm his fear with a smile. "I appreciate your worry, Serah, but I am the Inquisitor. I can handle a dracolisk." I wasn't truly sure that I could, but I had made a bet with Dorian and I wasn't about to back out of it now. "Besides," I added, smoothly taking my hand back. "I can bring down Red Templar behemoths and stare down Orlesian nobility and if that doesn't count for something, I don't know what does."
He sighed. "Consider, my lady," when I started down the keep stairs he followed after me. "That creature is kin to dragons."
"Then it's the perfect mount for the Inquisitor, don't you think?" I quipped, then reached to the pouch on my belt and took out a peppermint candy. A nervous tick if anything. The mint was cool and sweet and I calmed the moment it touched my tongue.
Below, Cassandra was waiting with Varric and Sera. As usual, Cassandra was wearing her displeased face. I ignored it as best I could. She was in heavy agreement with Blackwall and had made it perfectly clear the other night when she ambushed me in the garden and lectured me. I understood why everyone was worried (well not everyone, Varric, Dorian, Bull, and Sera we ecstatic—money was involved).
"Well?" Cassandra asked Blackwall.
Blackwall shrugged and muttered; "Don't look at me,"
Varric chuckled. "She'll be fine," he put money on me, unlike that traitorous elf who'd thrown her lot in with that equally treacherous peacock.
"Thank you Varric, at least someone has some faith." I smirked and turned down the stairs for the barn.
A crowd was gathering in the lower yard. The kitchen staff, servants, and even the soldiers on the wall had stopped their duties to watch. I saw Dorian and Bull standing with Krem and the other Chargers. The group was expected, nothing like watching their Inquisitor fail in the most embarrassing of fashions—or triumph, also probably in an embarrassing fashion.
Much to my surprise though, Cullen had ventured out of his office to watch from the bridge, Josephine and Leliana too. Well that raised the stakes.
The gathered crowd parted for us I found my Stable Master standing with his arms crossed defensively over his chest. "Your Worship, I must disagree with this,"
I smiled. I wasn't exactly used to getting whatever I wanted, growing up in the Circle taught a girl to leave wants behind, but on this matter I wasn't going to be moved. Honor and ten sovereigns were on the line. "I know Master Dennet," I cooed, he softened. "But I want to try." I'd learned, since becoming Inquisitor, that I had a certain manipulative charm about me. I was pretty sure it came from being short and being young, they didn't expect me to have a handle on everything—or at least to be good at pretending I did.
The Horse Master sighed; "They're mean, your Worship. And yes, the eat meat."
"Still," I crossed my arms and made a show of tapping my foot. Dennet caved and went to fetch the beast.
It was a savage beauty: a green and scaly monstrosity with claws and horns, teeth as sharp as razors, and eyes as yellow as sunflowers. The noise it made was something unholy, but it was a gorgeous creature. Something I had only ever seen in books. And now, seeing it before me alive and breathing lit an excitement in me like none other.
Blackwall placed his hand on my shoulder. I felt the shock of his touch again as he said; "I just…I don't think this is the kind of…thing…you should be riding."
I brushed his hand off; "Concern noted, dear, and ignored." Carefully, and trying to ignore the murmur of the crowd, (and the fact that I had just referred to Blackwall as "dear"), I stepped forward and lifted my hand for the dracolisk to sniff. "I am not food," I told it in my best, most authoritative voice. "So don't even think about taking a—" I felt it move before I saw it, and snatched my hand away as its jaws snapped closed. "A bite."
Nice try there, beastie.
Behind me, Sera burst into laughter; "If you're not careful we'll be one hand short an Inquisitor!" I shot her a look and rolled my eyes.
"I'll just have to take yours as a replacement," I grumbled. Blackwall held back a snort of laughter. That made me smile. I loved his laugh.
Slowly, I turned back to the dracolisk. "Now then, beastie, I am not dinner," again I held out my hand and when it didn't bite, I reached forward and it let me put my hand on its snout. "See,
I whispered. "I'm not so bad,"
The dracolisk tilted its head and his eyes went soft. I couldn't help but feel another smile come to my face. Maybe it was just a misunderstood creature? Like mages. Like me. We could have that in common, making him the perfect mount for someone trying to make the world a better place.
And just when I thought we were having a connecting, he had my hand in his mouth, drawing blood. I gave it a sharp smack on the ear and it let go of my hand while also screeching. "Oh relax," I growled. "I'm the one who's bleeding,"
Dennet came forward and took the beast's rope and started tugging it back to the barn.
"Ah shit," Blackwall cursed and took my hand. He riffled in his pocket for a handkerchief.
"I'm alright," I told him as I examined the mark. "It'll be healed in a cinch."
He wrapped my hand and said; "I told you not to get to close to that thing,"
"Well," I grumbled, shooting a look at the beast. "Now he's had a taste." I raised my voice of the crowd. "I hope I taste bitter, you fiend!"
Blackwall gave me back my hand and I missed his warmth. "I wish you would let it go," he sighed.
I shook my head. "I won't be defeated so easily." But, with my hand bleeding I was forced to walk away with my wounded pride.
XXXX
I was never very good at healing, but I knew enough to get by and the dracolisk hadn't bitten very hard. Blackwall watched attentively from across the table as I dabbed each cut with elfroot salve and then set about healing them. My palm sported a set of new, light pink scars, and it hurt just a little to close my fist but I showed Blackwall with the proudest, most unembarrassed smile I could muster.
"See, easy fix," I said. He took my hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss. So much electricity shot through me for a second I thought I accidently casted a spell. He let go of my hand and as quickly as it came, it vanished. But I still felt warm in my cheeks like I'd had a bit too much wine. I couldn't believe that he didn't feel it, he had too. Every time we got close something around us just…fell into place.
I had never been in love before; I had no way of knowing if I was doing it right; Blackwall often responded to my weak attempts at flirtation, but I really didn't know if it was working. Sometimes I felt like a foolish little girl after something she couldn't have. Or even though there was something between us and I could see it in his eyes, I thought that maybe he thought I was just some child. That I would grow bored of him and move onto something—someone—else.
But I didn't want to. Maker help me, I didn't want to.
"Does it hurt?" he asked.
"A little," I answered.
"Good," he chuckled, unable to keep his face straight. "Perhaps that will teach you to leave that monster alone,"
I was only slightly shocked by his answer. "Well, Serah," I rose from my seat, he followed. "I can assure you that I am not going to give up, Genevieve Trevelyan does not give up."
He nodded. "An admirable trait, my lady, but I would hope you'd sing a different tune if we were to face a dragon,"
I smirked. "Oh, that little fiend isn't a dragon, he doesn't breath fire."
"Thank the Maker for that," he mumbled. "So then, my lady, what's on the agenda today?"
"Paperwork," I sighed. "I have warrants to sign—those are always fun." There were other things too, letters, commissions, budgets to approve, soldiers to move, nobles to placate, trips to plan. "Will I see you at dinner though?"
"If it would please my lady," he was always so formal, even though we were friends.
"It would," I answered. "And what will you be doing?"
"I promised the Commander I would look over some of the troops down in the camps." That meant taking his horse and no chance to see him till dinner.
"I'll see you at dinner then," I said and we parted; him for the barn and me for the war room.
My advisors abruptly stopped laughing when I came in. Despite the ache in my pride, it made me happy knowing that they thought of me as friend even if that meant letting them laugh at my expense.
"So," I began trying not to seem annoyed. "Warrants?"
Cullen handed me a stack of paper from across the table. "It might be a good idea to rush those, Inquisitor, some of them aren't just simple fugitives, they have teeth," he put an emphasis on that last word. Muted chuckles followed, even from Leliana.
"If you're going to make fun of me," I said, leafing through the papers, bored already. "At least try,"
"We're sorry Inquisitor," Josephine had a wide smile on her face. "We should treat you with the utmost respect, but, you see, we're on the horns of a dilemma."
I did not hold back the roll of my eyes as all three of them burst into laughter. I set the papers on the table and took up a quill and a bottle of ink. "I'll just work on these while you get this out of your system," I grumbled, signing my name across the bottom of the first warrant. At least they were having fun; they rarely ever left their offices.
"I'm surprised at both of you," Leliana hissed. "The Inquisitor could have been eaten today, she could have lost her hand and the mark."
I was about to say "not really" when she suppressed a smile and added; "Do you suppose the dracolisk could do paperwork?" This got all three of them into a laughing fit that would lull only to pick up again when I glared.
"Are we done?" I asked after a moment of silence.
Cullen cleared his throat; "We are Inquisitor…" and then he was laughing again. I couldn't take too much offense; I had been the one to put myself in the situation anyway.
Quickly, I signed a few more warrants and stacked them up to await my official seal of office. Luckily, they didn't make me wait too much longer before we finally got down to business. Josephine handed me a stack of letters that awaited my response and I greenlit most of Cullen's military movements.
"Any word from out scouts on the Exalted Plains?" I asked.
Leliana nodded and handed me a scrap of paper. Scout Harding's scrawl was small, but I had gotten better at reading it. I set the paper on the war table and sighed. "I think it might be wise to send some more men to the Plains, Cullen. Between the freemen and the Venatori, they might need some reinforcements."
He nodded. "It will be done. Will you be going there yourself, Inquisitor?"
"Eventually," I answered. "I promised Blackwall we would go to the Storm Coast and I want to check in on Crestwood if we're going that direction anyway." We agreed on a timeline. The Winter Ball was coming up and that meant everything had to be planned around it.
I gathered up my paperwork and headed for my quarters. Ser Marbrand and Ser Brandon, my personal guard, had taken up position outside my door.
"Allow me, your Worship," Brandon took my work and opened the door.
"Thank you ser," my silent shadows followed me into the stairwell. I took the papers back and headed up.
There was a fire in my hearth already and I was half tempted to dump the papers into the fire and claim an accident. Instead, I stacked them onto my desk, sat down and got to signing warrants until the sun finally set.
Supper wasn't until another hour at least but I couldn't stand to look at paperwork anymore and my hand hurt. Despite it being my own doing, I felt a little bitter about it and rooted around in my collection of herbs for some royal elfroot to chew. The leaf was bitter so I took a candy from the little jar on my desk to help with the taste.
There was a time in my life when being left alone with my thoughts was welcomed. But now it was my most hated time of day. Being around everyone else made it easier to just grin and bear it. But here there was no one to see me slip off Inquisitor Trevelyan and become Genevieve, former Circle Mage and gardening enthusiast.
I browsed the books on my shelves in hopes of finding a distraction, but none of them appealed. A walk seemed in order so I took the big bear fur coat Blackwall had given me and pulled it on.
"I'm going for a walk," I told the knights. Their acknowledgement was simply to follow me. I led them out the main doors and down into the yard and up onto the battlements to overlook the bridge.
Below, the camps were dotted with cook fires. So many people displaced by tragedy and so many here for a pilgrimage. There were even some who worshiped me, though I knew the truth of my mark. I wanted to tell them I wasn't holy, Andraste had not picked me. I believed it was meant to be this way, but I wasn't a holy figure. Although Josephine was right; it was easier to let them believe in me as the chosen of Maker.
Being alone made me moody so I was happy when one of the passing guards stopped and saluted; "Your Worship," she smiled, it really did make them feel better when I was around.
"Serah," I returned her salute. "Anything interesting happening?"
"It's all quiet, Inquisitor. Though I did spot a family of barn owls in the rafters of the east tower. The owlets are all fluffy with down." she paused. "I'm sorry, your Worship. I didn't mean to bore you,"
"You didn't bore me," I told her. "Are the owlet's cute?"
"Very, Inquisitor," she swallowed nervously. "Would your Worship like to see them?"
There was still a lot of time before dinner so I nodded. "I would," the guard led me and my escort to the ruined eastern tower.
It was a lot easier to see the owls when she lit a torch. The birds didn't fly off in a panic either; mum and da just peered over the edge of the nest to stare at us. Their babies followed after we were assessed and deemed harmless. And the guard was right, they were little round balls of fluff with deep brown eyes the size of marbles. We watched them until they grew bored and ducked back into the warmth of their nest.
"Thank you," I told the guard as I doused the torch with an ice spell and we ventured back out onto the frozen wall.
"Of course, your Worship." She smiled, joyful that she got to share something so simple with the Inquisitor. I hoped she would share the story with her friends in the barracks and that it might help morale.
It was close to dinner now, so I decided it was time to go down. Dorian and Sera were already seated in the dining hall off of Josephine's office.
"Inquisitor, I must insist you throw in the towel." Dorian chuckled. "We can't have you losing your fingers to that beast, best just to lose a little coin."
"Bite me, Dorian," I grumbled as he and Sera erupted into laughter. I poured myself a cup of wine, a sweet red, my favorite.
Varric came in and Dorian spent the better half of ten minutes trying to convince him to change his bet. Varric just shook his head. "Never bet against the hero, Sparkler, that's just common sense."
I smirked. "Thanks Varric,"
"Someone has to have your back,"
When Cassandra and the First Enchanter came in, all talk of bets silenced. Cassandra took the chair to my right and I poured wine into her cup. I liked having these dinners together; it kept us close and grounded. Like having supper with family. They had been dubbed my Inner Circle, which made sense; I went into the field with them and spent the bulk of my time with them.
Though there were still chairs empty, dinner was served. Belinda always did a wonderful job and I found myself eating better with the Inquisition that I had at the Circle in Ostwick, and the Circle wasn't known for skimping on meals.
Blackwall came in when we were halfway through the meal. He sat across from me, and must have seen me eyeing the honey Sera was hoarding and picked it up and placed it by me without a word.
"Sorry I'm late," he said, he pulled the wing off a roast chicken. "Had to put my horse up and feed her."
"Don't worry about it," Blackwall was a man of his word; I knew he would come to dinner no matter what. Bull, I looked over at an empty chair, was probably with his Chargers.
"So," Dorian smirked from across the table. "Are you all done making fun of the Inquisitor or does anyone have any last minute japes they'd like to get in?"
"Oh," I raise my hand. "I do; if the Tevinter peacock doesn't shut his Imperial mouth I may be forced to set him on fire."
"I said jokes, Inquisitor," Dorian laughed.
"No, no, you see, it's funny because I might actually do it this time." Laughter around the table. I would never do it, I was too fond of Dorian to actually hurt him, but we always had fun when we went back and forth like this.
"So you're sure you're not ready to give yet? That dracolisk almost ate you," Dorian refreshed his wine goblet.
"We should get rid of it," Cassandra exclaimed. "It's dangerous."
"I am inclined to agree with the Seeker," Blackwall added. "We should have the beast taken back to its homeland and set it free."
"It's only been one day," I insisted. "I spent ten minutes with it. You can't tame a horse in a day, you know."
"It's not a horse," Cassandra snapped.
"A dracolisk, whatever," I grumbled. I knew she was looking out for me, but this was all really starting to grate on my nerves. "I am going to tame the damn thing and that is the end of it,"
XXXX
Three weeks later, Blackwall found me leaning against the stable wall in front of the dracolisk's pen, reading poetry to it and feeding it. I paused and looked up from my book. "Hello, Serah," I smiled and reached my hand into a bucket of offal that Belinda kindly donated. I pulled out what I was sure was a liver and tossed it at the dracolisk. The beast caught it in his mouth and swallowed it whole.
"Are you alright, my lady?"
"Fine, you?" I had pulled the sleeve of my tunic up to my elbow and my wrist and hand were covered in blood.
"I'm alright." He paused, "You're feeding the dracolisk?"
"I am," I chuckled. "This must look very strange," I was no stranger to blood and guts now that I had taken an active part in war, although I'm sure my younger self would never had imagined I would willingly stick my hand in a pail of cow guts.
"Yes," Blackwall laughed. "That's not Dorian is it?"
"Alas, it is not." I smirked. "But it is a good threat for the future. "I'll feed you to my dracolisk the next if you bet against me,"
"He knows you won't do it," Blackwall leaned against the wall next to me. He put off heat like a campfire, smelled like one too.
"Oh, I love Dorian," I told him, picking up another bit and tossing it at the beast. "And we joke, but that's all."
"So have you made any progress?"
"Well he's learned that if he doesn't bite me he gets treats." I said. "Would you like to see?"
"I suppose so, but be careful, my opinion hasn't changed." I handed him my book and reached my hand out to rub the dracolisk's nose.
The beast and I locked eyes, one of my books said it was the best way to deal with dracolisks in the wild. I figured the tip worked here as well. If he knew I was in charge and that I wasn't willing to take any nonsense, he would come to respect and listen to me.
"See, you fiendish creature, I am the hand the feeds you and you don't bite the hand that feeds you." I reached into my pail, pulled out a choice piece of meat and held it out. The dracolisk took it from my hand. "Gentle, gentle," I told him as his teeth scraped my palm. "Good boy,"
Blackwall clapped. "Good work my lady; perhaps you'll charm the beast yet."
"Well, it's progress." I shrugged. Dorian made a critical mistake in our bet; he forgot to specify a time. And every time he argued, I deferred to Varric, who shut him down with a few quick words.
I tipped the bucket into the pen and the rest of the offal came tumbling out into the dracolisk's pen.
"I have a little water and soap." Blackwall said pointing to the barn. By that he meant an old bucket of rainwater, it was ice cold and the soap smelled more like lard than anything else, but it got the job done. He handed me back my book when I was clean.
"So why were you reading to it?" Blackwall picked up an extra chair from the back of the barn and set it down before the fire for me.
"To get him used to the sound of my voice," I sat down, the fire felt warm on my legs. "I want him to know me by voice."
"Reasonable," Blackwall sat across from me, carving knife and a little block of wood in hand.
"What are you making now?" I asked.
"A chess set for the children in the camps. They haven't got much,"
"That's very kind of you," I opened my book and started reading to the sound of him shaving wood. It was nice to sit in the peace and quiet, just the two of us. He was so grounding, like a rock. I felt like I could relax around him and I hoped he felt it too.
An hour passed and then two. By the third, I decided the break had to end. There were letters waiting for answers and I still had some time before bed. I closed my book and rose from my seat.
"Thank you Serah," I smiled and Blackwall looked up, confused. "For the evening, it was very relaxing,"
He got up and almost stumbled into me. "Of—of course, my lady. Would you like me to escort you back to the keep?" he was so close I could feel the warmth on him.
Gently, I stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "I think I can manage," I turned and strode into the darkness of the yard. I felt flushed and stupid. I hoped he wasn't watching, because my walk had turned into a half run. The cool air wasn't doing anything to make me feel better.
Ser Marbrand was waiting by the keep steps. If he saw how red my face was he didn't say anything. Of my silent shadows, this half was the quietest. I tried to calm down when I entered the main hall, but I found myself in a blind rush for the stairs.
It was just a kiss, I told myself. A kiss on the cheek, chaste, just a lady saying goodnight to a friend.
But what if I scared him? I mean I just scared myself! Once in my room, I fell into my desk chair—just another thing to worry about when I try to fall asleep.
By the light of a few candles I read a few of my letters and carefully wrote answers. I dabbed the three I had finished with green wax and then marked them with my signet ring. There were more of them, but I couldn't stand another. My bed was calling me.
I kneeled down against the frame of my bed and said my prayers; "My Maker, know my heart…" I could recite it from memory. On top of growing up in a pious family I had found solace in the Circle Chantry. And now it helped me make sense of things.
With the end of my prayer, I climbed into bed and found myself thinking of Blackwall more than anything else. It was easy to think of him; the richness of his laugh, the way he smiled when I made stupid jokes, how he listened when I talked about plants and the garden. How in the middle of a fight, if someone got to close he would charge them like a mad bronto. These thoughts drew me back to the kiss in the yard.
"It was an innocent kiss," I muttered into my pillow, saying it out loud gave it some credence. "A lady kissing her friend goodnight."
This got me thinking of other things—things that made me nervous because I had no experience in the matter. Or in any of this, actually; I knew nothing of romance beyond the campy novels my roommate in the circle insisted I read. I was an Enchanter at the Circle, but that had been the extent of my leadership knowledge, I hadn't even been old enough for an apprentice, just a little teaching under the careful watch of a Senior Enchanter.
It was easier now, being the one everybody looked to for answers. The war table flashed across my vision like a ghost. Oh Maker, did I make the right choice today? Are my men going to make it home or have I doomed them?
I turned onto my stomach and pushed my face into my pillow and tried to think of Blackwall because it was easier to think of him than anything else. I fell asleep like that.
Hey, I'm not afraid to shamelessly plug my own work: I would love it if you checked out my other Dragon Age stories; Two-Hundred Roses, featuring Genevieve, my female Inquisitor and Blackwall.
Or Hawke Hunt, which is the "spiritual successor" of Roses, although I maintain that you don't have to read Roses to understand and enjoy Hawke Hunt. Hawke Hunt is a huge undertaking for me; it features multiple points of view, including the Inquisitor, Blackwall, Varric, Cullen, Cassandra, and Dorian. It's got a slow build, but I promise—it's worth it!
Thanks so much for reading, favs/follows/reviews are always appreciated!