Hawke's explanation in DA:I for why she showed up alone, without Fenris, just didn't make sense. So I've tried out some other ideas.
Comments/critiques/suggestions are welcome! I'd really appreciate any feedback you want to give. :)
[A small square of paper sealed with dark blue wax in an abstract bird design. The words are sloping but legible, and splotched where the note was folded before the ink had dried.]
F,
I arrived safely at Skyhold this morning. It's breathtaking. I mean that literally, too. The air's quite thin here! At least until you enter the keep. I must ask how they get all these delicate plants to grow so high up in the mountains.
We can discuss that later, though. From what I gather so far, our plan should be viable, so let's move forward with it. The Inquisition is much better organized than we'd assumed, although it can seem like the Herald (now the Inquisitor) and her advisors are herding cats, especially when it comes to dealing with the Orlesian army and nobility. I suspect that will boil over very soon. But this place will be safe. Everything I've seen so far tells me that this fortress is nothing like Haven. It's built on an ancient site and there's elven magic protecting it, although the senior mages aren't quite sure how it works. That might not be too great a comfort to you, but given what we're facing these days, we'll need it. Please hurry.
H
[Written in a neat, precise hand, with most of the misspellings crossed out and self-corrected. The wax seal is sunset red and imprinted with the Amell crest.]
Hawke,
Marcus and I just ate breakfast with Cassandra on the steps of the battlements. She and I will be leading sword drills soon in the Nevarran style, so this will have to be [the pen stroke veers off in a jagged line here, as if knocked aside] Marcus is very excited that I'm writing to you. He can barely contain himself. He wants to know if you are going to swim in the lake like a fish - I haven't told him it's a flooded village. He suggests that you turn yourself into a purple salmon, because mage fish should look special, apparently. You remember his recent obsession with anything that has fins? I cannot wait for him to pick something else.
I would have liked for Inquisitor Cadash to join us at the training grounds. I spent more time with her after you left for Crestwood and before she joined you. She strikes me as an extraordinary woman who is good at passing herself off as nobody in particular. I asked a few cautious questions about her life as a spy in the Carta when we met at the tavern one night for diamondback with Sera and The Iron Bull. She knew a good deal about me already; Varric told her a little, and I the rest. I was hesitant, but Sebastian's advice had been on my mind. And after that, it seemed only fair that we level the field. The others were curious as well, and about me, seeing as we've only known each other a week.
Hawke, I confess that although I have enjoyed their company so far, it makes me uneasy to discuss personal matters with so many unfamiliar people. I haven't entirely succeeded at hiding it. Yesterday afternoon Marcus climbed onto my lap and propped up the corners of my mouth with his fingers. He told me not to be sad. At dinner he stuffed a handful of clover and pebbles into my pocket and watched for my reaction. I smiled. So did he. It's still so strange to see my own eyes staring up at me from his round little face.
I've asked Flissa to take Marcus for an hour or two after lunch so that I can go for a walk on the battlements and have some space to think. I would bring him along to spot the valleys between the mountains, but given how he likes to play chasing games and lacks a healthy fear of heights, I think he's best left at ground level or inside four walls.
Write back soon. The Spymaster will send this with one of her ravens, as agreed. It knows the way home. I hope the situation in Crestwood is less dire than you feared.
You're in my thoughts, amata. Two days together was not enough.
Yours,
Fenris
[There are small fingerprint smudges below, next to a crude letter that might be "M"]
Hello you two!
I've missed you terribly. I hope all is well at Skyhold. Crestwood is damp and gloomy and I've spent most of my time here scuttling through caves like one of the giant spiders that lives in them. Nasty things. Marcus, did you know your father and I used to run into them on the other shore, near Kirkwall? Remember, if you ever stumble across a cave, don't go in unless you're properly armed.
We captured Caer Bronach from the bandits last night, so now we get to eat decent meals and sleep indoors, near actual fireplaces instead of a campfire that sneezes itself out every ten minutes. Lady Cadash has been assisting the townspeople with their alarming array of problems, and after we met up with the Warden, I offered to lend a hand. Much rather be doing something useful than sitting around twiddling my thumbs! I'm heading out soonish with Sera to fight a wyvern that's been attacking the townspeople. Wyverns are the small colorful dragons from the picture book Uncle Varric gave you, Marcus. I haven't had an opportunity to try the fish spell you suggested, but they do require some creativity to track down, so we'll see. If you've behaved yourself I'll tell you some new stories once I get back.
As I mentioned, the Inquisitor is busy sorting out some things with the lake, but when she's finished the whole party will return to Skyhold to recuperate. Unfortunately it's to be a short visit, since we'll have to continue on to the Western Approach. But in any case, we should be arriving at the gates within a week! I can't wait to see you.
Fenris: there's been some trouble with the Grey Wardens. I'll tell you more in person, but essentially it's Corypheus' doing. Yet again. Once I leave Skyhold I may not be back for a while. Bit miserable for all of us, but we'll manage. I hope you've found ways to get some peace and quiet when you need it, and that fewer of the people there are strangers to you now. You seemed to get on well with Bull's Chargers, I thought? When I took Marcus up to bed you were on your third arm-wrestling match. You never told me how many rounds you went! You know, whenever we're apart I start to miss the oddest things about you. Like how you've always got a handkerchief to wipe Marcus' nose, or his eyes if he's burst into tears after dropping his favorite rock out the window. (Is he still hoping that you'll find Frederick? We searched the courtyard pretty thoroughly.) Or the way you casually lean one elbow on the table while eating, not really taking part in the conversation except for your skeptical glances. And then there's that gorgeous haircut Morris the quartermaster gave you. Now that would make for a strange ballad. Maybe I could annoy you with it once I get back?
All my love,
Hawke