Night had long fallen over Skyhold, but the bar remained open, as it was always open when the Lady Trevelyan wanted to drink. It turned out that Inquisitors could not only command forces throughout Thedas, but they had a very firm grip on the liquor supply in their immediate vicinity. Tonight they'd broken into the rarest and best the fortress could offer, in honor of their distinguished guests. She shared her small table in the corner with Elissa Cousland and Marian Hawke, and they received a level of care that the Orlesian nobility would have envied fiercely, were they ever allowed to find out about it.
At first the bar had been full of people, drinking and gawking at the three legends as best they could. The whispers around them had burned Evelyn, but the other ladies didn't seem to notice. Perhaps they'd had more time to get used to the stares. One was nobility turned royalty, and the other had been a Viscountess and the most famous apostate in the realm. Evelyn had been a minor noble destined to a life in the Chantry, or possibly a marriage to another minor noble. She was no one of importance and didn't like being the center of whispered attention. At least with these two she was always the least noticed person of the group.
Her friends had helped as well, talking easily with them all, like they were normal, not pivots upon which history turned. Iron Bull had swapped gory battle stories with Elissa that were still making her stomach turn, Sera and Hawke had gotten along like a house on fire, and even Cassandra had deigned to drink a half a glass of ale. Zevran and Dorian had been lost in a quagmire of innuendo from the start, and when they'd left abruptly no one had been surprised. Still, somehow the place had emptied, everyone drifting away piece by piece, until it was just the three of them sharing the table. Well, the four of them, until Hawke's pointed look had finally sent Varric out, grumbling about the lost story opportunity. After that the conversation became softer and wilder in turns, greased by a liberal quantity of brandy.
Evelyn peered over her glass at the two women as she took a small sip. The bartender had given up on them an hour back, but he'd left enough bottles at the table to see them through the night. At first she'd protested at the volume, thinking they were more likely to die of alcohol poisoning than anything else, but watching Elissa and Hawke go at it, she was glad he hadn't listened. She had to ask. "How are the two of you still alive? You're putting this stuff away like it's water."
Elissa smiled slightly. "It's a Grey Warden thing. We just burn it off."
"That can't be it. The King can't hold his liquor at all. Leliana told me about the time he had three glasses of Antivan wine and gave a rousing speech to the kitchen staff about the battle they would soon face for control of the dessert table. If I remember her correctly, he followed it by falling asleep on a bag of flour, then woke up with a cat having kittens next to him. He had such a bad headache that he couldn't move and had to live through the entire birthing process at very close quarters."
Hawke laughed, loudly enough that the three heads across the room snapped over to them. They were the only other ones left in the room, and their faces spoke volumes. Alistair looked nervous, Cullen resigned, and Fenris stony. The mage gave them a small wave and a grin, and they snapped back just as quickly. "They think we're talking about them. Adorable."
"Well, we are, aren't we?" asked Evelyn.
"That doesn't mean they should be so suspicious of us!"
Evelyn privately thought they were all lucky their men had only made it to suspicious, but kept it to herself. Elissa took them back to their original topic. "Alistair's a Chantry boy. He thinks he should get drunk, so he gets drunk. I've tried to talk him out of it, but he's stubborn." Her voice was irritated, but her eyes held a soft light that was rarely present. The Queen of Ferelden wasn't known for her easy temper. She took another long pull, then refilled her mug. "Really, though, the power we accept makes it hard to get truly drunk. Another sacrifice of the Wardens that they don't exactly advertise."
"And I just have a lot of practice," said Hawke. Her eyes were full of mischief, as always. Varric, correctly, said the sun would fall into the sea before Hawke ever took anything seriously. "You travel through Tevinter's taverns getting intel long enough, you learn to drink with the best. Just don't ask me to play Wicked Grace. I always cheat more when I'm drinking."
"You'll get no argument from me. I doubt we could talk Cullen into it anyway. Last time we held a game he lost a lot more than his shirt to Josephine."
Hawke grinned. "That's what he gets for trying to outfox an Antivan. They have no scruples." She eyed the Commander speculatively. "Can't say I'm not sorry I missed it though. Now that he's relaxed a little, not so likely to yell blood mage at the drop of a hat, he's definitely more alluring."
Evelyn gaped, too shocked to try to be possessive. "You think he's relaxed?"
"Oh Maker, yes. You should have known him when he was a Templar. Wound tighter than an Arishok with a crooked horn," said Hawke. "I mean, I know he went through a lot, but I got the sense he hadn't exactly been working off a spontaneous personality even before then."
The Queen nodded her agreement. "We met under difficult circumstances, of course, but he was painfully formal even in anger. He'll never give Zevran or your Dorian any challenge for easy charm, but he laughs now at least." She tipped her cup to Evelyn. "Your influence, I imagine."
"I haven't done much," she muttered, blushing. They were still fruitlessly trying to keep their romance under wraps, and in truth it hadn't proceeded much beyond casual. She would never admit to these powerful, knowing women that they'd done little more than kiss on the battlements and share a few looks over the War Table.
"The man is utterly smitten with you, Inquisitor. My advice? Don't waste his loosened tongue tonight," said Hawke. Her eyes sparkled. "Take it from me, the outwardly chaste ones are the most inventive lovers. Don't you agree, Your Highness?"
Elissa rolled her eyes. "Really, Hawke, the poor girl doesn't need to hear your lengthy stories of sexual conquest. She'll never set foot in a bedroom again. Besides, Fenris will know what you're talking about. He always does. And then he'll roar over here, and you'll both be embarrassing again. Just like you were at that Arlessa's combat tournament when you ran Kirkwall."
"We didn't do anything improper!"
"No, you didn't do anything indecent. Impropriety abounded. Thank the Maker Fenris had enough sense to take you inside the house before you got his clothes off."
Hawke grinned. "What can I say? He brings out the worst in me. He's just such a stimulating fighter." She drank deeply and waggled her eyebrows. "And he doesn't need any Templar training to control my magic."
Evelyn wouldn't ask. She cast about for another topic. "So does sex actually make him smile, ever, or does he have a permanent frown etched onto him along with the lyrium?" She clapped her hands over her mouth and stared into her glass in horror.
"Ha! I knew we'd crack that prissy outer shell eventually. And the answer is, yes and no. He doesn't have to smile to let me know that he's pleased. In fact, it's sometimes better if he doesn't." Hawke turned to Elissa. "How about Alistair? You ever get him to be serious or is it a comedy routine throughout?"
"I might as well ask the same about you."
"Pffft. You're no fun. You've got kids, and we've shared a few campsites, so I know that you don't have a sexless marriage. How are we going to accurately roleplay Ferelden royalty without any inside information?" Hawke drained her glass again and poured another, slightly wobbly mugful. "It's funny. You and I got the wrong men, didn't we? You and Fenris are so alike, angry and secretive, while Alistair and I are the jokesters. Maybe I should start copying your style. It might make him happier."
Her voice dipped in a way that had both Evelyn and Elissa leaning forward. "Is that what this is about?" asked the Queen. "I wondered. Despite what you said, you never used to drink this much."
The mage's voice lowered as she nodded wearily. "I'm losing him, and I don't know why, and I can't fix it. Serves me right, I guess, after trying to run so many of my friends' love lives for them. I'm no matchmaker. Isabella has yet to forgive me for trying to make her and Sebastian into a happy ending."
"Have you asked him about it?" asked Evelyn.
"Not a chance. Every time I've even started to try, we just end up in bed. And it's good. It always is. But more and more it's all there is." She sighed. "We haven't had a very traditional romance, from what I hear. I wouldn't know. I've never had one before. We got together because he hated me and my magic so much that he couldn't resist having me. We stay together because neither of us can give up having the other. Maybe something like that always burns out in the end."
"Maker give me strength," said Elissa flatly, "for I sit in the presence of the dumbest woman in Thedas. If this were just sex, you'd both have moved on long ago. You're no stranger to casual flirtations, and from what little he's shared about his life in Tevinter, sex as a concept holds about as much appeal to him as diplomatic flatteries do to me. I know something about love. Trust me, there's more there."
Hawke laid her head on the table. "You and Alistair are so perfect. It's an absolutely unfair example to set for the rest of us. Royals are supposed to be stuffy and polite to each other, not fairy tales."
"It's no fairy tale, Champion. It's work, and a lot of it. The fact that you're willing to do the work when you have to is what makes the times when you don't so good." Elissa gestured to Evelyn, clearly looking for support. She stared back blankly, and the Queen narrowed her eyes. Evelyn remembered that she was still wearing her sword.
She cleared her throat. "Um, I know almost nothing about love. But I'm good at body language. When you fight from the shadows, you get really quick at reading what people's bodies are telling you. And Fenris is more aware of you as a person than anyone I've ever seen. If you walk into a room where he's sitting, his entire demeanor changes. It's like watching a hound scent a target. He turns towards you, inside, even when you never get close enough to touch him. Even when you never even look at each other." She smiled. "He's doing it now. He's thinking about getting up to come over here because you're slumped over. He's not even facing this way, but he still knows."
The mage straightened quickly. "He probably thinks I'm sick." She raised her glass off the table again to drink, then threw it in the air as a figure appeared next to her. "Andraste's ass!"
Cole never moved, but Elissa pushed away from the table ready to fight. Evelyn saw Alistair rise from his seat while Fenris glowed blue, already on edge. Cullen held them both by an arm, talking to them in low and urgent tones, and she hoped he could calm them down. For herself, she looked at Cole calmly. "We talked about not doing that."
"I know, but it's so loud in here. I couldn't think," said Cole. He focused on Hawke. "When you're gone he tries to picture you, but he only sees your back. Your face is hazy, always turned away, and he worries there will be a time when he won't remember how your mouth moves when you smile or how your eyes can hold his from across the room. His body remembers the hellos, but his mind can only see the goodbyes. You scare him. He doesn't want to be a slave."
Brandy dripped from Hawke's black hair as she breathed heavily. Evelyn was glad she'd resisted making fire, or they'd be dealing with a charred mage instead of just a wet one. "He's not a slave," she whispered. She darted her eyes at the elf nervously. "I would never make him stay with me."
"Yes, you never would. But what about what he makes himself? He doesn't know what else to be. Only you can show him he doesn't wear chains," said Cole. Hawke nodded, and he relaxed and turned back to Evelyn. "I'm sorry for the scare and for the brandy that's on the floor instead of in a cup. I will try not to do that again. I just wanted it to be quiet." He vanished.
The two guests sat again, gingerly. Hawke reclaimed her mug from the floor as the men across the room did the same, much more slowly. Evelyn gave them a weak smile that she knew convinced them not a wit. Elissa huffed a breath. "Well, I don't pretend to understand ghosts, but it seems like a solid lead to me. You'd scare me if I were your lover. You aren't at all careful, Hawke. And the two of you spend a lot of time apart."
"He's always the one freeing slaves in Tevinter without me," she protested, but there was no energy behind it.
"And you're the one who went into the Fade and could have easily died without so much as a word to him. I did my share of that, once. It doesn't help a man feel secure in your affection. I'm leaving in a week, and Alistair is going to Denerim without me. You know why we seem so perfect? Because I'll tell him a thousand times before I go that I love him. Even when I'm frustrated or tired. Especially then." Elissa's eyes were cold now, battle-ready. "Have you told Fenris that even once?"
"Of course! Not those exact words, but he knows." Hawke grinned a little, back to her old playfulness. "It would be hard for him not to by now."
Evelyn cocked a skeptical eyebrow. "Pardon my innocence, but would this communication be entirely nonverbal, sex communication?" Hawke nodded slightly. "I'm not sure that really counts."
"I agree," said Elissa. "Words speak louder than actions in this case. Tell him. Now. Best do it here so you don't cheat it into another round in bed."
"Here?" Hawke paled. "In front of the Maker and everyone?"
"Everyone being four other people in an otherwise empty bar?" Evelyn couldn't stop a smile. "I think you'll survive. I heard you killed an Arishok once. I'll call him over, if you'd like." She motioned to Cullen, and he rose instantly. The men picked up their mugs and walked across the room towards them.
"The Arishok was a pushover," muttered Hawke, smoothing her hands over her robe.
"You needed something?" asked Cullen. His cheeks were flushed slightly from alcohol, but his voice was the same smooth baritone it always was. She felt herself reddening as well under his gaze, and she cursed Hawke for putting ideas in her head. Alistair sat on the bench next to his wife, giving her a smacking kiss on the cheek that made her smile. Fenris took the spot next to Hawke, which left Cullen no choice but to sit next to her. As the two public couples leaned into each other, she fidgeted uncomfortably. She drank again, and the room tilted around her. The bench wasn't that big, and his leg pressed against hers no matter how much she shifted.
Alistair interrupted her agony. "Is this something to do with the whatever it was that popped in here? Since my adorable wife of impeccable judgment didn't run it through with her sword, I'm content to let it live as well, but I certainly would like to know more about it. Cullen said it was some kind of living spirit?"
She nodded and immediately regretted it. "Cole is a spirit of compassion who came through the Fade as himself and took a living form. I'm assured he's unique, and he's been very helpful to us. Very loyal. I trust him with my life. But he can be a little alarming."
Fenris growled. "Alarming isn't the half of it. You realize he could turn into a demon at any point?"
"That's not true," she said, bristling. She stopped short when Cullen put his on her knee under the table, not only because of the silent command for quiet. She focused on breathing.
"We've taken steps, at his request, to keep that from happening. He's asked us to kill him several times if he changes. Cole knows the dangers better than anyone, and he's accepted the consequences of failure. That's worthy of our respect."
"I suppose. If you need any volunteers to swing the blade, I'm available," said Fenris, but he relaxed a little. Evelyn realized that was his version of a joke and started to think maybe Hawke had a point about their personalities.
As soon as she thought it, Elissa leaned forward. "No, it wasn't about that. Hawke has something to say." Her voice was light but the set of her jaw was definitely hard. Alistair's face went from smiling to terrified as he looked between the two women.
"My dear, you haven't been ordering people around again, have you? We came here to show support for the Inquisition, not take it over." Elissa slashed a look at him, and he quickly added, "Not that you wouldn't look breathtaking in their formal attire, of course. Bright red with buttons all over is what I've always pictured you in."
"I don't give orders. I make suggestions." Cullen couldn't contain a snort, and Evelyn giggled lightly. Alistair kicked them both under the table. The Queen's face didn't change. "My suggestions only sound like orders to people who are too foolish to think of them themselves."
"Yes, I can see the complete lack of command in that sentiment. Well, let's hear it then," he said.
They all turned to Hawke, who squirmed like she was trying to work her way through the bench below her and escape through the floor. It was so very like how her young cousins looked when they'd been caught stealing food that Evelyn couldn't help but laugh again. Fenris growled at her unexpectedly, and Cullen tensed. His hand was still on her leg, and she felt a tug in her lower belly when he clenched it around her. She bit her lip and put her hand over his. He glanced over at her and relaxed, lacing their fingers together.
Fenris hadn't looked away from Hawke even for his reprimand. The mage drank again, deeply, before speaking. "It's been pointed out to me that I haven't always been the best at communicating. Especially about feelings. Yes. There are some who might say that."
"Half of Kirkwall would say it. The other half already has," whispered a voice behind her, and she knew it was Varric. No one else seemed to hear, and she struggled to keep her face straight. She took another drink to cover the smile.
Hawke went on without pausing. "And I, well that is others, thought it was time that I overcame my maidenly shyness and brought my insides to the outside. Not my actual insides, then we would need a healer, but the insides that have the feelings in them. Right. So that's what I'm trying to do. Now. Does that make sense?" The Queen put a hand to her forehead and sighed. The rest of the table stared intensely at their glasses and fought off laughter.
"I assume this is about me. So are you breaking off our relationship or proposing marriage?" asked Fenris. "Right now, it could go either way."
"Neither! Maker's breath." Her voice held a note of terror before she rushed back into speech. "Unless you want to get married? I didn't think that you were a person who uh, wanted that. Sort of thing. Do you?"
"If I did want it, would you do it?" Evelyn glanced up sharply and saw a smile ghost across the elf's lips. Hawke was looking at the floor and didn't notice. She wriggled even more uncomfortably, squeaking and stammering about how she'd never really considered it. The mumbled explanations went on for several minutes and grew more incoherent as the time passed. Her face was redder than the dreaded formal uniforms, dismay clear and bright on it.
Cullen broke his silence. "By the Maker, stop torturing the poor woman. Mages have rights in the walls of Skyhold, you know. No excessive punishment."
Hawke's head snapped up, and she glared. Fenris smiled then, a real smile. "If you could have seen your face." The mage punched him in the arm, and he smiled even more broadly. He took her face in his hands and kissed her with a heat that made Evelyn shift in her seat. Cullen coughed next to her, but his thumb rubbed slow circles over her palm. She held back a longing sigh.
Fenris pulled back, serious. "I don't want to marry you, Hawke. That would make us both miserable. And I'm not with you for romantic speeches. Don't worry about it." He dropped his hands.
The Champion's eyes grew mutinous, and she crossed her arms. "I'll worry about whatever I want, elf. Don't tell me what to do. And right now I'm going to worry about this. I love you. Okay?"
Alistair muttered into his glass, "Definitely not a romantic speech."
"I'm sure Varric will clean it up," she whispered back.
The King winked at her. "I hope so. I've been looking for a new book to read. It's hard to while away the long nights when my Hero abandons me."
"Be quiet, or you'll know from abandonment," said Elissa absently. Alistair schooled his face into an unconvincing display of seriousness. Fenris and Hawke acknowledged none of it, only stared at each other. Evelyn watched, fascinated, waiting to see who would win their silent war of dominance.
Eventually Hawke stood with a sigh. "Come on. You win." Her voice was resigned, but her eyes sparkled with her usual mischief.
"An inevitable outcome." He took her outstretched hand and swung himself up beside her. His hand found her waist, and he made no attempt to lower his voice. "Especially tonight. Or did you think I'd miss the chance to make you say it as often as I want? You know I can."
"We'll see."
"We certainly will." He spoke to the table without looking. "Thanks for the drinks." They left with more speed than was necessary, and Evelyn saw a short shadow follow them. She hoped Varric didn't get his head twisted around the wrong way, but she had to admit she couldn't wait to read about what happened. A long distance away from the glowing elf.
"Better her than me," she said. Cullen released her hand, and she winced. Her mouth was certainly on fire tonight. Elissa looked at them sympathetically and said nothing. They all finished their drinks in silence.
Just as she was about to head to her chambers herself, Alistair spoke. "So what's it like, Inquisitor?" He tipped his head at the hand around her glass. "It must be hard to carry so much."
She shrugged. "You get used to it, I guess. Besides, it's not like I'm the only one here carrying something that makes life harder."
"My crown comes off my head, though. I can leave whenever I want." Elissa snarled softly. "I wouldn't, of course, but I could. I'm told you're not in the same position."
"I didn't mean your crowns, though I'm sure ruling a country is no small task. But how easily can you walk away from being a Grey Warden? Or a Templar?" She looked at them all. "We all have parts of ourselves that we weren't born with. Ones that we can't erase."
Still he pressed. "True enough. But we chose these lives. You didn't."
She shook her head. "Make no mistake, Your Majesty. I did choose this. I reached down to stop something dangerous that came towards me, and I picked it up. It's what life is. If I didn't know the risks of what I was doing, well, how much did you know before you joined the Order? Cullen certainly didn't understand what being a Templar really meant until it was too late to do anything about it." Cullen's gaze was hot on her face, but she didn't turn away from the King. She needed him to understand, even if she didn't know why. She waved her hands to encompass the bar around them. "And as for this, I choose it every day. I may have to bear the anchor, but I don't have to be the Inquisitor. Corypheus or no, Breach or no, they ask and I answer. Every day. It's that simple."
"There's nothing simple about service to so many," said Elissa. "Choices aren't always easy."
"How to serve isn't simple. But deciding to move forward instead of sit and sulk? That's the easiest thing in the world." Evelyn drummed her fingers on the table. "Why are you so curious, anyway? I'd think you'd understand this already."
Alistair cleared his throat. "Ferelden supports the Inquisition, if only because Leliana would break my arm if we didn't, but you're a hard woman to get a sense of. Your insides stay on your insides, as Hawke would say. You've done a lot of good. You've made mistakes. I expect that will continue. I wanted to know how much I could trust you." He grinned. "You're too powerful not to interrogate a little when you're drunk."
"I'm not drunk," she said. She tried to stand and swayed a little. Cullen stood and steadied her. She leaned on him and frowned. "I'm just tired."
Elissa looked out the window. "As well you should be. Not far off dawn now, I think." She stood herself, perfectly steady, and Evelyn envied her. She pulled at her husband's arm. "Come on. It's time for bed."
"As my Queen commands," he said, jumping up into a perfect escort position. They walked away as gracefully as if they were in their own court, a sight ruined only by the broad smile on the King's face.
She turned as they got to the door. "Inquisitor," she said formally. "If you would allow, I'd like to speak to you more about my mission before I leave. I think it would be useful for you to know where I'm going. You may have insight. Support."
"Of course, Your Majesty. You have only to ask. What's the nature of your trip?"
Fire rose to her eyes, and even Alistair's face lost its smile. "I'm going to cure the disease we call being a Grey Warden." They left without another word, and Evelyn stared after them.
Cullen shook his head. "She always did like an exit line. Even at the Circle she couldn't resist a little drama. Let's go, Inquisitor. I'll get you back to your quarters in one piece."
The cold air woke her up a little, and she wasn't listing quite so badly once they made it to the Hall. She kept leaning on Cullen anyway, enjoying his nearness. Hawke's advice ran through her mind as they walked across the stone floor, and again as they reached her door, and again as they climbed the steps to her quarters. He stopped on the landing outside and gave her a curious look. She pulled him to her and kissed him thoroughly. He didn't protest, and she took that as permission to push harder. He responded with equal heat, and they spent several minutes pressed against the wall in delicious closeness. He tasted like brandy and felt like granite underneath her wandering hands.
When they broke for air, she smiled. "That was nice."
He released a slow breath over her. "That's one word for it, yes." He pushed away with a sigh. "Good night, Lady."
She couldn't resist calling after him when he reached the stairs. "Do you want to come in?"
"Don't tempt me," he said, turning back with narrowed eyes. "It's late and you're tipsy and you need sleep more than even I do. This isn't a good night for anything… delicate."
"I agree," she said. She grinned in her most Hawke-like way and emphasized her words carefully. "But do you want to?"
He smiled then. "More than I would ever admit to anyone but you." He turned away and walked down the stairs. "Go to bed!"
Evelyn laughed as she hiked up the final flight of stairs, feeling lighter than she had in days. She fell into bed fully clothed and drifted away. Before the Fade claimed her, she thought drowsily, Elissa and Alistair may be perfect love, and Hawke and Fenris may be perfect sex, but Cullen is the perfect gentleman. She made a note to tell him that, one day, and she fell asleep smiling.