The party was met with the usual fanfare. A burgeoning crowd of curious onlookers awaiting their triumphant return: merchants, civilians, soldiers and other residents of the fortress – both temporary and permanent – all congregated just inside of Skyhold's main gate. The mob waited anxiously, if not impatiently, for the portcullis to raise so they could be among the first to bestow cheers of welcome and thanks to the Inquisitor and her entourage. No matter the purpose or length of the mission, the routine was always the same. Be it a months-long foray into the wilds, closing rifts and battling bandits; or a quick trip to the city to oversee Orlesian politics, she could always count on an enthusiastic 'welcome back'.
It was so terribly, terribly uncomfortable.
Josephine assured her that such displays were borne of love and admiration – gratitude for all the things she had done for those around her. However, this knowledge did little to ease the painful twist in her gut that she felt each and every time her return to Skyhold was flanked on all sides by a throng of cheering "fans".
She had never enjoyed attention the way others did, preferring to blend into the background whenever possible. It felt natural – she had started this journey as a spy, after all. It wasn't that long ago that her daily routine consisted of little more than hunting game and socializing with her clan-mates. Now it was an endless parade of missions, meetings, talks, advice, rifts, demons, religion… She found herself longing for the days when she was nobody special. Life in the clan could be lonely, but this strange new life was even lonelier, somehow. It had been more than a year, and still she had yet to acclimate to becoming an object of reverence and worship. A living legend, as it were. And it seemed no matter how much effort she put into behaving like a regular person, nothing could unseat her from the pedestal upon which she had been placed.
The party led their horses through the yard, toward the stables, and Ellana offered a small nod and a smile to each person she passed. Her expression looking less 'warm' and more 'strained' the longer she sustained it. Gratefully, no one seemed to take notice of her fatigue.
She watched, relieved, as the mob slowly dispersed and returned to their duties. Happier for having been among those who personally hailed The Inquisitor's return. She was glad to see them go. Grateful though she was for their well wishes, she was too tired to play the part of Sacred Herald of Andraste this afternoon.
They were almost clear of the merchant stalls when she heard a voice call out, "Hail, Inquisitor Lavellan!" followed by a small chorus of cheers. A group of soldiers were passing by on their way to Cullen's evening training regimen, and apparently could not begin until they had her blessing. Turning, she flashed them the most believable smile she could muster, and a small wave. The gesture seemed to placate the group, and they soon dispersed, finally leaving her path clear of any further interruptions.
Still, the knot in her stomach twisted a little tighter.
She must have made a face, because she found Solas looking at her rather curiously when she looked up again. Briefly, their eyes met, and he tilted his head just slightly. A brow quirked. It was a question: are you alright? She answered by way of a tired smile, and he seemed to understand – she had spoken with him before of the fatigue her position often caused. He gave an almost imperceptible nod, and made to approach the stables, rather than disappear into the rotunda as he normally did upon returning to Skyhold. It occurred to her then that he intended to find a way to remain nearby, or discretely join her in her quarters. The thought warmed away any lingering anxiety, and brought the first genuine smile to her face since she'd arrived.
Somehow, her burdens felt considerably lighter with the knowledge that she could lock herself away with him for a few hours. Inevitable, looming, conversations be damned – they could wait until later. She just had to find a way to convince Josephine to push any appointments she had until the next day, and not come knocking. Perhaps if she played up her exhaustion she could be excused to 'take a nap'. For four or five hours.
Of the original crowd that greeted them, only a few stragglers remained by the time the group reached the horsemaster. Among them, Leiliana and Josephine, who stood side by side at the foot of the stone staircase that led onto the battlements. There, they politely awaited an audience with her once she had said her farewells to the party. Ellana made brief, meaningful, eye contact with each of them. Nodding once to indicate she had noted their presence and would find them when she had a moment. They returned the gesture, but did not leave their position. She sighed, generally that meant something required her immediate attention.
Dennet took the mounts with a grumble of thanks and returned to his tasks without ceremony, already drowning in chores now that several foals had been born. When the hand-off was done, Varric gave Ellana a polite nod and a quiet, "Herald," before he departed toward the tavern with Sera in tow. For her part, the girl only offered two fingers and a rude noise as farewell. Eager to retire to her room and rest. Or drink, at least. Cole followed behind them, silent and unseen, to return to his haunt above the tavern. By the time they all disappeared into the Herald's Rest, the last, lingering, traces of the fanfare was gone and the Inquisitor's valiant return to Skyhold was no longer the center of attention.
And thank the Creators for that, thought Ellana.
Once she was alone, Solas approached quietly. Casually. Holding at a respectable distance from her, with his hands tucked neatly behind his back. His manner calm, and formal. It was only once she caught his eye that she saw the glint of mischief that betrayed the façade.
"Inquisitor," he said, inclining his chin. Professional. Polite.
She bit back a smile as she returned the greeting. "Solas."
His eyes passed from her, to the Horsemaster working several paces away, and back to her again. Taking the hint, she headed away from the stable doors, toward him. And once safely out of earshot, she held up her pack. "Help me unknot this?" she asked innocently.
Solas needed no further prompt to play along, and took it from her with a nod. Immediately going to work on a knot that was not nearly as complicated as the laboured movement of his fingers would imply.
"That return journey has exhausted me," Ellana began quietly, noting the way his brow quirked at the implication. "I was going to ask that my appointments be pushed until tomorrow, so I could rest."
"Prudent," Solas replied evenly. Their eyes met, and they exchanged a brief, meaningful look. A dozen promises passed wordlessly between them.
Once finished with the 'knot', he handed the bag back. Ellana made to leave, but before she could take a step she was stilled by a touch to the small of her back. It was an intimate gesture, one that would surely raise suspicion if witnessed, but by the time she had turned back to Solas his hands were once more tucked behind himself. Though it was clear by the small, sheepish, cough he gave that the slip had been unintentional.
He covered for it well enough, inclining his chin as he added a quiet, "I would speak with you then." She nodded her understanding, and they parted.
Iron Bull stopped her next. Exiting the Herald's Rest at a brisk pace carried by long legs, a bright smile on his face. "Hey, Boss!" he greeted. "I heard you had trouble on the way back. You all good, though?"
Ellana did not stop for him, and spoke quickly, heading toward the pair of advisors who still waited patiently for her ear. "We're all fine. It's nothing we couldn't handle," she informed as he fell into step beside her. "Bull, as much as I would love to talk more, I really need to speak to Leiliana and Josephine. And then take a very, very long bath and hopefully an equally long nap. I haven't washed since I left Redcliffe and by this point I'm certain I could make the flowers wilt."
The Qunari laughed loudly, teasing her by way of an exaggerated sniff. He opened his mouth to offer what would surely be another witty jab, but something gave him pause. For a second too long, he was quiet. Lips parted, the retort ready on his tongue. She watched, curious, as his lone eye slid from her face, to a point somewhere over her shoulder. His lips curving into an odd little grin.
Confused, she began to turn and follow his gaze. But before she could, he clapped a hand down upon her shoulder hard enough to unbalance her, forcing her to look back at him – grab his arm – to regain her footing.
"Ah, it's not so bad!" he assured, waving a hand, "At least you had a good time, right?" And with a smirk, he released her shoulder, and walked away. Leaving her to her impatient advisors.
Across the yard, and some ways behind her, a door closed behind Solas as he disappeared into Skyhold.