Wolf Hunt is rated Fiction MA. It contains extensive spoilers, violence and adult themes, explicit language, and explicit content of violent and/or sexual nature. You have been warned.
Inquisitor Todelyn Lavellan faces an opponent she never imagined. Solas's betrayal had been a shock for all of them, but she vowed to destroy him at all costs. Aheart once filled with tender affection is now burns an unquenchable flame, all consuming and never satisfied… that is until she can find the Dread Wolf once more.
Varric made his way back from the pub, waddling a haphazardly. He really ought to stay out of Sera's and Bull's drinking games, but he couldn't say no to anything that was no good for him. Besides, he couldn't begin to guess when they would all be together again.
Skyhold was a shell of its prior grandeur. There were no troops practicing in the yard, no nobles exchanging gossip. Varric had even come to miss Seggrit's griping. With a sigh, he climbed the stairs into the keep.
After Todelyn refused to live under the rule of Divine Victoria, many of the party returned to Skyhold with her, for old times sake. Sera, Iron Bull, Blackwall, even Curly… It was almost enough to pretend it was the good days, before the taste of sweet lies and bitter betrayal had turned sour in their mouths.
Varric frowned slightly, his knees aching. Age and injury were taking their tolls but he couldn't imagine being Viscount would satiate his appetite for the unknown. He craved the thrill of these adventures, but he knew this time was coming to an end. Bianca had started to rust.
He stumbled through the door and flopped in his favorite chair next to the hearth. He smiled to himself as he nestled down, his eyes slipping shut. He was at the edge of consciousness when he heard cursing and ceramic crashing against stone.
"Inquisitor?" he called, peering into Solas's study. Todelyn leaned against the desk, a demolished fresco pot splattered against the wall. She glanced over her shoulder at him, sighed and let her head hang down.
"I'm no longer the Inquisitor," she sighed, her voice was riddled with self loathing. "I'm no longer anything."
"Come on," Varric approached cautiously. Between the disbanding and dismembering, Todelyn was internalizing her fury. "You know that's not true."
"You're right," she snapped sarcastically. "I'm an idiot."
"You couldn't have known," Varric soothed, sobering. "He tricked all of us."
"I should have known. I knew him better than anybody, but I just didn't see. I didn't want to see," she said quietly, staring at the wall with the splattered fresco. Tears welled in her eyes but she blinked them away before the could fall. She leaned on her right arm on the table, glaring at the stacks of secrets and maps. There were dark circles under her unfocused eyes.
"When was the last time you slept?" Varric asked, concerned.
Todelyn made a hollow laugh, "Sleep? I detest the stuff."