It was finally over.
Corypheus was gone.
There was relief and complete joy that they were now safe. They accomplished what they set out to do, and now, they could all go home.
The trek back to Skyhold, however, was quiet and subdued. Many lives were lost since the Breach first opened the sky, and it was foolish to think casualties would not happen. It was an inevitable part of war, or whatever anyone wanted to call this particular situation, and there was little room to bother worrying about or regretting each and every death. Lives were lost at the Conclave, lives were lost in Haven, and all over Thedas. Even in the final battle against Corypheus soldiers fell, and others gravely injured, but while this was a time for celebration, it was also a time to remember all those lost on their way to victory. Even if regret shouldn't hinder them, they could at least offer respect.
Varric found the silence among the group returning to Skyhold a bit out of place considering some of their companions. Cassandra was silent, but that was hardly a surprise, but she also hadn't made any non-verbal grumbles, either. Dorian looked pensive, and Vivienne had no quips or criticisms to give. Blackwall was stiff in his movements, but Varric couldn't tell much more than that as the man was walking ahead of him, and one could only tell so much from someone's back, and Cole seemed lost. The kid's eyes looking pained, but as though he was uncertain of how to ease that pain. It was unfortunate that he was able to help others, but seemed confused about how to help himself. As for Bull, he hadn't started sharing all the 'good hits' he landed on the corrupted dragon of Corypheus'-and killing dragons was one of his favorite things-and Sera walked tight-lipped and staring straight ahead, as if speaking would cause a rush of emotions that she refused to acknowledge. Knowing her, she was probably hoping to forget all that happened and move on, but Varric knew better. No one could go through all the shit they did and come out unchanged. He's been through it before.
And dammit all, he knew a tragedy when he saw one; he said so from the start.
Tragedies were no good for heroes.
"So..." Varric started, breaking the long silence among the group, "who's going to tell Cullen?"
Because while they were headed home, not all were coming back alive.
And their Inquisitor was the one casualty they regretted the most.