They say if you needed a favor done, all you had to do was petition the Inquisition. Ask and you shall receive. But they say a lot about the Inquisition, not all of it the truth. Was the Inquisitor the Herald of Andraste? Was he sent by the maker himself? None, save few, truly knew the answer. He was a mystery to be admired, respected, even feared. And it was that fear that borne the actions of those who struck against him. Only two things were certain of the Inquisitor. One being that he was of Dalish origin and the other that he was most formidable in battle with a sword as long as he was tall.
It was finally quiet. There were no villagers needing to be rescued, no resources to be compiled, no immediate danger. 'Rhen leaned against the door leading to his quarters and allowed himself a small sigh of relief, however short lived it would be. It had been much too long since he allowed himself such luxury. In fact, he hadn't given much thought to anything besides the safety of Thedas. As the weight of the world momentarily slipped off his shoulders, his first thought turned to Evelline. The corners of his mouth turned ever so slightly upward as he imagined how much his sister must have grown since they have parted ways. When he left the clan to oversee the peace negotiations, she was but 6 years of age. So full of hope and life, both vibrantly reflected in the green of her eyes. If there was anyone he was fighting for, it was her. 'Rhen hadn't known her long, but in the few years they've lived together, Evelline had come to mean everything to him. She was his reason for living. Allowing a wider smile, 'Rhen pushed past the heavy door and climbed the stairs to his room. He didn't have much time to visit as most of his travels took him out West past Orlais, and bringing the clan to Skyhold was out of the question. Especially after what happened at Haven. The further away from him they were, the safer they'd be. But he could at least send his keeper an update and finally send Evelline that wooden halla Blackwall had carved for him. It had been sitting on his desk for far too long.
'Rhen was so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he almost didn't notice he had a visitor.
"Dorian!" he exclaimed, startled at seeing the mage sitting on his bed. "I wasn't expecting…" His voice trailed off as Dorian looked up to meet his gaze.
"I apologize, Inquisitor. But, as yours is the only space in all of Skyhold no one dares to intrude upon, I figured it was the best place to hide."
'Rhen gave Dorian a quizzical look. "Hide? From-?" he paused briefly before coming to a realization. "Is your father here?!" He didn't remember inviting Halward Pavus to Skyhold. In fact, after the whole business in Redcliffe, he had hoped he'd never have to see the man again. Certainly 'Rhen was glad he could help the two resolve their differences. However, he found the Magister's actions, while well meaning, to be untrustworthy.
Dorian frowned in response, regretting involving the Inquisitor in his family drama. But instead of dwelling on it, he put down his book and looked squarely at the Inquisitor. "Worse." he replied. "Do you remember the last interaction I had with Mother Giselle?" As the memory of the confrontation came to mind, so did the memory of the aftermath. 'Rhen felt his face redden. How could he not? His hand instinctively went to his mouth, the warmth of the kiss flooding his mind. But before Dorian could see it, he hastily turned away and walked to his desk. What a ridiculously juvenile response! He was an adult and was allowed to have feelings. Right?
"Of course." 'Rhen acknowledged after brief hesitation.
"Believe me, her trying to be civil is far worse. I much preferred her backhanded remarks."
"I'm sure she means well."
"Yes. Well. She can go mean well with someone else." Dorian's voice trailed off as he resumed his reading, leaving 'Rhen alone with his thoughts. He gazed out the window at the mountains, trying to compartmentalise. Before he could sort out his feelings for the mage currently occupying his bed, there was the matter of writing to his family. He picked up the small halla carving and ran his thumb over the fine wood grain. Evelline loved hallas. She firmly believed they brought good luck and would often spend her afternoons with the clan's herders. He missed her terribly. Maybe once this mess was over with he could hand the Inquisition to someone more capable and return to his clan.
"Should I leave?" Dorian's voice interrupted his thoughts. 'Rhen thought for a moment before turning to face the him. Regardless of his feelings, one thing was undeniable. Dorian was a very good looking man. Which was what he was to most people. A handsome and cocky Tevinter mage with an excellent fashion sense. But 'Rhen knew better.
"No. I don't mind the company."