The occupants of Skyhold were in a tizzy, and rightfully so. The Inquistor surveyed the organized chaos in front of him, shifting uncomfortably in his 'throne'. It was indeed a throne, though he was loathe to call it so. It seemed almost… blasphemous, in a way. A Dalish elf, the Herald of Andraste… the leader of the Inquisition, sitting on his throne and ruler of the whole roost. He ran a hand through his silvery blond hair, grimacing. A comforting hand suddenly rested on his shoulder, and he glanced up at his red-haired advisor, offering her a rueful smile.
"There is no need to be nervous." Leliana assured him, her musical Orlais accent soothing his nerves. "The Hero is a kind woman. I'm sure she'll quite like you, Mahanon."
"She is a friend of yours, is she not?" Mahanon asked.
"Yes. Trusted comrades in arms as well as the dearest of friends." The woman smiled.
Mahanon nodded, noting how the advisor on his other side twitched almost imperceptibly whenever the Hero of Ferelden was mentioned. Not that this surprised the Inquistor. Commander Cullen always acted most peculiar whenever the Hero was mentioned in the War Room. According to the giggly gossip Josephine and Leliana exchanged whenever Cullen left, he'd apparently had a boyhood crush on the famed Commander of the Grey.
Suddenly, the bustling throne room quieted noticeably, with the throngs of people parting semi-orderly off to the sides. There was still a soft buzzing as people whispered and chatted under their breaths. Mahanon sat up straighter on his throne, heart pounding. Months of searching, and longer months still of persuasion and pleading were finally coming to fruition. The Hero of Ferelden had been found, alive and well. Now she and a select group of loyal Grey Wardens were arriving to pledge loyalty to him, and the Inquisition. This would make an incredible impact politically, as well as on the battlefield. Yes, it had taken so long. And Mahanon felt anything but ready.
The doors swung open, and the crowd fell silent. Mahanon licked his lips nervously. Twenty Grey Wardens marched in, all in their matching armor of silver and blue. From what he could tell, there were mages, warriors, and rogues alike. Leading the group was a woman clad in the traditional battlemage ensemble, staff strapped to her back. Unusual for a mage, however, were the sword at her side and the majestic helm that hid her face. At her side was her second in command. He was an archer, and carried his helmet under his arm. The man was dark haired, and looked rather displeased to be here. The intimidating glare he shot at the Inquistor and his council did nothing to help Maharon's frazzled nerves.
"Presenting! Commander of the Grey, Hero of Ferelden, Lady Solona Amell." Josephine announced.
The assembled crowd bowed and curtsied, murmuring respects as the ensemble approached the throne. When they stood before Mahanon, they halted. Mahanon held his breath as Amell removed her helm. Long red curls tumbled around her pale face. She smiled wryly.
"Ex-commander, actually…" She amended quietly, before speaking allowed. "I, and the Grey Wardens with me, swear to serve you, Lord Inquisitor. We stand with the Inquisition!"
The crowd erupted into frenzied shouts and applause as the Hero knelt before the throne, her subordinates following suit. Maharon shifted uncomfortably, still unused to being in such a lofty position.
"I… we, uh. Thank you kindly, Lady Amell." He finally managed once the noise had subsided. "We are so very honored to have you here."
Amell stood up, nodding in acknowledgement. Maharon hesistantly slid off his throne, then approached her with an extended hand. She gripped it firmly, her smile looking more genuine.
"It's nice not to be in charge for once. I don't envy you." She murmured, blue eyes twinkling.
Maharon nodded mutely in response, hoping he hadn't come off as ungrateful. A maid scurried to his side, apologizing profusely for interrupting, and asking if she ought show them to their quarters. He gently dismissed her apology, and the Grey Wardens swept out after her.
The rest of the hall dissolved into its usual state, and Maharon turned back to his advisors, looking for feedback.
"That went wonderfully." Josephine praised warmly, causing the tips of his pointed ears to turn red.
Leliana and Cassandra chimed in with their agreement, and the three women began discussing the next course of action with the Inquisitor. Meanwhile, Cullen seemed frozen, staring at the door Amell had vanished through.