Sera's eating pretzels on the roof with Adder, her head on her lover's lap. Adder's leaning back on her elbows. All Sera can see is the spring sky, white clouds like cheesecloth stretched over the blue and the faint scar where the sky got torn open. When Adder leans forward and blocks her view, Sera glances into the courtyard. Charter, the Inquisition's new spymaster, is coming toward them.
Not fair! Today's us-time, not everyone-else-time. Friggin' told the war table team that, didn't I? Somehow, despite Corypheums being dead and the sky sealed, Adder's just as busy now as she was before she saved the world. Sera's goal today was to tell the world to get right off.
Sera immediately starts planning a revenge prank.
"Forgive my intrusion," Charter says, which is a nice start. "Inquisitor, the Qunari you asked my people to find walked through the gate."
With her head on Adder's lap and her cheek against her belly, Sera can feel Adder's muscles tighten. Sera sits up.
Adder's brother is here.
"Huh," Adder says. "So that's why all my spies in faraway, exotic lands couldn't find him. Good to know. I was worried I'd have to start firing." That's a joke, but maybe it's not as funny as Adder thinks it is. She's been cutting back on the spies and bringing in more diplomats. Time for a kinder, gentler Inquisition now Corinimus's gone.
Sera shares a glance with Adder. This is big. This is the little brother she abandoned when their mum was being a drunk, kid-hitting monster.
But here's Adder, trying to treat this like it's everyday. Sera follows her lead.
After Charter leaves, Sera asks, "You want to be alone for this?"
"Maker, no. With you here, I won't run. That'd be a fun memory to remind him of."
Adder needs to get all the mean jokes out of her system, draining it like black bile from the humours. "You can run loads faster, now. Your legs is bigger. Longer stride."
"We could play hide and seek through Skyhold. Like when we were kids! But with fewer beatings."
They find Karaas in the courtyard, watching the Inquisition soldiers sparring. At first, Sera thinks Charter's got the wrong Qunari—his hair, tied into a short ponytail, and stubble are pure white. He's way too old. Then she remembers most Qunari have white hair. Adder and Bull are the weirdies who don't. He's all armoured up, head to toe. The suit's seen better days—leather worn, steel pitted. He's got a scabbard at his waist but no sword. Guests don't get to walk around with weapons, after all.
Qunari are pretty noticeable, and Karaas obviously wasn't watching the soldiers that closely, so he watches them walk over. Hard to make out his expression at a distance, 'specially with his rashvine vitaar on.
While they're still out of earshot, Adder weakly murmurs, "Maker...he looks so much like her."
Sera can now put a bit more of a face to their mother, Ash, who she's hated for years now. A feminine version of Karaas, maybe with Adder's jaw and lush eyelashes.
Without thinking about what she's going to say, Sera opens her mouth to speak.
Adder's faster. "When I abandoned him, I said I was going out for some air. Should I start with 'Well, finally found some'?"
"If you want to be a right bitch, sure. But maybe that's not what you're going for?"
"Mmm. Maybe."
Once they're close enough, Sera looks for similarities between brother and sister and finds only their large jug ears. Otherwise, they're loads different: his face triangular to her oval, lips thin to her thick, nose pointed to her round, skin pale grey and smooth to her dark and weathered, eyes purple to her orange. And he's got proper horns, huge and curled like a ram's. Even they're armoured, with ridged bronze sheaths that gleam in the sunlight.
Karaas's gaze flicks to Sera, but he watches Adder warily. Adder walks confident, easy, her face not too friendly but polite enough. Sera can only guess how much the show is costing her. She wants to grab Adder's hand and give it a squeeze, but she doesn't.
"Inquisitor Adaar," the Qunari says, bowing his head briefly. His tone's got a hint of a question. In her brown leathers she looks like any other mercenary.
"You got me." She smiles, but not with her eyes. "Adder Adaar." He blinks, a touch surprised. Adder gave herself that name—if Sera ever heard what Adder's birth-name was, it's not springing to mind now. "This is Sera, my lover."
"Hello," he says, only sparing Sera a glance. "I thought I was hearing things, the first time 'Inquisitor Adaar' dropped from someone's lips. I was all the way out in Rivain, looking at a new sword. The merchant boasted you'd bought a dagger from his partner's shop in Val Royeaux. 'A frequent patron of Monsieur Thenardier.'"
Adder chuckles. "I bought a piece off him once two years ago." No need to go boasting that Dagna can make better shite at Skyhold in her sleep.
"I figured. Ever since I heard your name, I've been trying to find jobs that took me closer to Skyhold. It took some time. The Red Templars and Venatori made travel difficult."
"I had people out looking for you," Adder says. Another brief flash of surprise from Karaas. He must've thought Adder didn't care enough to try and find him. "Caught wind of your work with the Red Talons, but after that we lost your trail. The Talons are a good company—I did some work with them in '37." A faint pause, then she teases, "Two mercenaries. Dad must be rolling in his grave."
Karaas doesn't smile. He shrugs, says a neutral, "You'd know better than I."
Into the awkward moment, Sera says, "We should all grab a pint at the Herald's Rest and catch up, yeah?"
Karaas looks startled, like that's more than he planned, and while Adder doesn't seem to mind, she might just be pretending.
"I don't drink," he says.
"Well, the Rest serves water." Suddenly unsure, she glances at Adder. "Right?"
Adder chuckles. "It does, love."
They take a seat by the fire, Karaas and Adder with water, Sera with some cheap ale. Sera tries to see the Rest through Karaas' eyes, then gives that up. It's too much her place for her to look at it another way. Shame there's no Maryden playing, but she's taken her act on the road. Cole followed her, the weirdy, and Maryden let him. Some other minstrel's playing now—Companions, listing all the friends that aren't here—but he's not as good. She may write some shite songs now and then, but Maryden can frigging sing.
Once they're settled, Sera sneaks her hand onto Adder's knee and squeezes it gently.
"Our mother died," Karaas says. He says it simple, like it means nothing.
Adder isn't surprised. "How?"
Karaas glances from Adder to Sera.
"I know your mum was a cunt," Sera says. "No need to fake a sniffle on my account."
"She drank herself to sleep one night and didn't wake up the next morning." Karaas stares into the fire, gaze going distant. "I was ten."
Sympathy and pain age Adder's face. Karaas glances at her, taking in her reaction without any visible one of his own. Sera can't place if he's happy to have hurt her, embarrassed, irritated—nothing. Sera squeezes Adder's knee, hard.
"How did you—?" Adder begins.
"Survive?" At her nod, he says, "We were in unfriendly country, and we'd been forced deep in the woods. A Dalish clan found me. They sheltered me until I could fend for myself, then sent me on my way."
Hall, an archer on one of the Inquisition's teams, has the same story. "Friggin' Dalish nobs."
Surprised, Karaas turns to her. "They could have left me to die." Not angry, not defensive, just saying a fact, tone cool as autumn rain. "They were kind, in their way."
"Psssh. 'Here, be part of our family—oh, wait, you don't have pointy ears or stupid tattoos? You don't act the way we say you should? Sod off, then.'"
"Sera's...not fond of the Dalish," Adder explains.
"'Not fond'? Using words wrong, love. 'Sodding hate'. There. Made your words work right."
"Ah yes, silly me, trying to keep the discussion polite."
There's a lull, next. Sera's just about to say something when Adder inhales. She meets her brother's gaze, direct, unwavering, though she licks her lips and hesitates before speaking. Sera clutches Adder's knee, trying to will strength into her through touch.
"I'm so sorry I left you with her, Karaas. I'm sorry for...everything else. What I did to you was the biggest mistake of my life. I'm not expecting forgiveness. I just wanted to tell you that."
He's looked surprised a lot since they've met—only right he'd look surprised again. It's deeper, this feeling, lasts longer, trips him up. He tries to speak but makes no sound. Then he swallows. A glance into the fire, but why look there when it's the same colour as his sister's eyes? So he looks back at her.
Adder should be saying more: How she always meant to go back. How she tried to find him. How she turned down jobs just to hunt rumours of a mum and son pair of Qunari throughout the Free Marches. How she just wanted to make enough money first for them to live on. But she's not. She's just letting it hang there.
"It's true," Sera blurts out. "She feels like shite. She—" But if Adder isn't saying that, she has a reason. Sera shuts up.
Out of the corner of her eye, she catches her lover looking at her. Before Sera can catch Adder's expression, Karaas is speaking; Adder's attention goes to him.
"I appreciated your apology, Inquisitor. Thank you." Stiff and too-polite, but could be worse. "My memories of my life before the Dalish clan are hazy, and I've worked to keep them so. Perhaps this meeting could be a fresh start for us both?"
Now, Adder's surprised. "Really?"
He nods, then holds up his cup in a toast. "To new beginnings."
Adder touches her cup to his, smiling. It's a real smile that comes from that core of good-natured, snerky Adderness deep inside. There's no hurt on her face. "To new beginnings."
He glances at Sera, inviting her into the toast, and she raises her cup. "To what you lot said." All three of them gulp their drinks—their dry mouths need it.
Sera leans into Karaas as they put their cups down. "Now, I know your memory's hazy and all, but I gotta ask: what were her horns like?"
"If the Inquisitor hasn't told you, I'm sure she has her reasons."
"Boo. No fun."
Adder's hand slips below the table and squeezes Sera's.
Karaas asks the questions anyone would. "So, that's the hand that can seal rifts?" and "Is it true that the Temple of Sacred Ashes was floating when you vanquished the Evil One?" and all that. The conversation after that is mostly merc talk. This sod pays well, this company has a shite rep, Old So And So cheated some blokes out of their pay ages ago.
Karaas has a huge stiff one for Iron Bull and the Bull's Chargers. Leans in close when Adder and Sera tell tales about 'em, eyes wide. He doesn't say "Get me a job with them," but Sera can smell it clear as shit in a barn. Adder would give her little brother the world. Bull won't take just anyone, but Sera knows without even having to ask that Adder'll make the introduction.
"Let me give you a tour," Adder says. She glances at Sera. "Sorry, love, we're keeping you from that thing...?" She looks for all the world like she's trying to remember instead of making all this up.
Not my part of the story—and she'll tell me the stuff that matters later. "Oh, shite, yeah. See you." She heads off. Some Red Jenny news needs reading, anyway.
Hours later, when Sera goes back to her room (which used to be just Adder's), Adder's stretched out on the couch, reading, her head propped up by the arm rest. "Catch." She throws a necklace at Sera.
Sera catches it. The strap's made of worn leather, and there's three sewn-shut leather bags as pendants. They're about as long as her thumb, stuffed with something soft. She pinches one. Is that a stone inside?
"My brother kept his necklace of the kadan."
"His what now?"
"It's a Qunari thing." She explains about breaking a dragon's tooth in half—only fourths in this case, since her da made it and split it up among the family, then their mum split her tooth to give half to baby Karaas. "He was a little shy about giving it to me. He didn't wear it, but he'd held onto it since Mom died. Even he wasn't sure why."
Adder sighs. "And after we had this nice moment, I—like the clever rogue I am—make a bacon joke. Not sure if you've noticed this, but sometimes I use humour when I'm feeling uncomfortable."
"What, only then? Shite, you're uncomfortable a lot. When you get up in the morning. When you get your mail. When you take a bath. When you—"
"Are you doing a bit?"
"Mm, s'pose I am. Wonder where I got that from?" Sera leans forward. "So, bacon joke, yeah?"
"Karaas looked surprised. I told him Dad made the necklace out of a boar's tusk, not a dragon fang. I'm not even sure Dad killed the boar—probably just slipped a butcher some copper. Karaas said he assumed the pendants were so small because the dragon tooth was split four ways.
"There's gotta be another way to destroy his childhood. Apparently, I'm just really good at it! Tell him he was adopted? Say he was born with a tail?" Adder groans in mock-frustration, but Sera knows her well enough that just because she says things lightly doesn't mean she doesn't feel them strongly. "I'm the worst big sister ever."
"Haven't been one for a while, yeah?"
"No, I always was one. I just pretended I wasn't."
"Well...all right, put it like that, you're kinda the worst. So," she holds up the necklace, "what're you gonna do with this?"
"Ugh. Please, just put it somewhere I don't have to think about it."
Sera brings it to the storage room, once her room at the Rest, and tosses it in the corner. She returns to her room. Finding her journal, she snags it and lies down on the bed.
Adder's still in a talky mood. "I showed off the library, all proud of myself for my collection. He was polite, but he obviously didn't care. I always tried to get him interested in reading. Seems it never took. Dad would have found a way. He could make anything fun."
"Your da...how'd he go, again?" Once, Sera never would have pushed. She treated Adder's past like this deep mystery, this big unknowable thing. But if Adder doesn't want to talk, she can duck away easy enough. What's a question or two between lovers?
"The flu. A Chantry in Wettenburg took us in when he was too sick to move. The sisters and brothers were good to us; they tried as hard to save Dad as if he'd been one of their own. We just got there too late. The worst thing was, my parents were healers. They knew what plants could help fight a lung infection. If we'd just had the coin...if Mom or Dad had stooped to stealing..." She sighs. "They were idiots. Noble, well-intentioned idiots."
Her gaze focuses on something behind Sera. "He died surrounded by Mom, pregnant with his son, and me. I like to think that made his passing peaceful." Her gaze snaps back to the here-and-now as she shrugs. "Well, as peaceful as drowning in your own fluids can be, anyway. The Chantry even burned his body when they could've just shoved him in a pauper's grave. They were good people."
Sera writes Wettenburg in her journal. The name's got a Free March-y ring to it. She repeats it to herself, so she'll remember to look it up. They can go there someday.
"Karaas was born a few days after Dad died. Everyone worried about him; he was a month early, and so tiny! You'd never know it, now."
Sera would call him small, but when your only comparison is Iron Bull, everyone looks small. She starts sketching Adder's face with her brother's horns on them.
"I suppose I have the Dalish to thank for that." A bit lighter, Adder says, "D'you know, I tried to nurse him, once?"
Sera blinks. "Um, ewww."
"In my defense, I was eight..."
"Still ewww." Sera examines her sketch. Adder's face looks awful with Karaas's horns. She scratches it out.
"You're right. Mom caught me and made me stop." Adder pauses. "Without beating me. That came later, with the drinking."
"Frigging cunt."
A wrinkle appears between Adder's brows. "You know, I actually pity her? She tried so hard to keep her family together that she broke. And I didn't help. I was—"
"Don't defend her. Swat a kid's bum now and then, sure, whatever. What she did to you's different. You don't hit kids."
Adder looks back at her book. "Mm. Well. Understanding doesn't mean forgiving." Storytime over.
Sera flips a page of her journal and sees a sketch she didn't make. Her journal isn't really private—she's lost it so many places around Skyhold that anyone curious enough has probably got an eyeful of her thoughts. She knows Adder reads it, only she usually pretends she doesn't snoop. She's certainly never as good as told her by scribbling in her journal like this.
Adder wrote: They looked like this.
Below that is a barebones sketch of Adder's face, large ears—and horns. They sweep up then curve inward a bit, making a teardrop shape between them.
Weirdly, Sera feels a bit disappointed. She liked the mystery of not knowing.
"You don't like your gift?" Adder asks, confused.
Oh, of course she was watching. "No. Not that. Just..well, s'pose I thought they'd be grander."
Adder chuckles. "Not every Qunari gets Iron Bull-style horns. Mom didn't have any, actually. That's supposed to make her special to Qunari." A slight snort. "My horns looked a lot like Dad's."
She loved her Da fierce. "So, good memory, innit?"
Adder shrugs. "They're just horns." Her gaze goes distant. "Clients used them like handles when I worked at Granny Mae's."
Sera's skin crawls, like it always does when Adder drops words about Granny Mae and the whorehouse she worked at from age fourteen to twenty. "Oh." She licks at her lips. "What about when I grab your nubbies? Do you hate that?" It's a stupid question. Adder's not one to be shy about what she likes.
Adder's gaze meets hers, and her smile slowly unfurls across her face. "I've never hated anything you do to me."
Relief makes Sera grin. Sometimes, it's good to hear the answer even to a stupid question.
Adder shuts her book.
Sera perks up. That signal, she knows. She tosses her journal over her shoulder and walks toward Adder, slipping out of her shoes and shirt. As she undoes her pants, she hops around in circles, kicking her left leg until the pant is half off, then doing the same with her right. The "sodding pants, get off!" dance. She'd done this once before, ages ago, when Adder had her clit throbbing so hard that taking pants off became the hardest thing in the world. Was teeth-grinding at the time. Now, it's funny.
"Ah, pants," Adder murmurs. "So tricky." She stands up—somehow she even stands with swagger. "Let me help."
Next morning, Karaas is out training with Cullen's troops. He's got his sword back, which is nothing special, and a large nondescript shield. He's got good form—not that that means much when it's just warm-ups and sparring. Adder and Sera stop by to give him some of Adder's favourite vitaar.
"I just happened to have some extra," Adder says. She doesn't. Dragon hunter vitaar comes from dragon-bone powder and this moss that only grows in the Frostback Basin. Once the moss is dried, ground up, and mixed with the dragon bones and poisons, it takes forever for the vitaar to reach full strength. Adder's a friend of Stone Bear Hold, but even with the friend discount, this vitaar is still the most expensive thing she owns.
Karaas's eyes widen as he examines it. "I can see why you'd have a lot. I've never even seen these kind of colours. Where did you get this?"
"From an Avvar clan in the Frostback Basin. I can set you up with them."
He recoils a bit. "I hate to think what that would cost. But thank you for the thought, Inquisitor." He slips it into a pouch at his waist. That vitaar's much too good to waste on training.
Sera wonders if it's ever going to be 'Adder,' not 'Inquisitor.' She hopes so, for Adder's sake.
In the distance comes "Oh, no man can beat the Chargers, 'cuz we'll hit 'em where it hurts!"
Karaas doesn't know the tune like she and Adder do; to him, the words are probably gibberish this far away. But Adder and Sera share a look.
"I hear the Chargers," Adder says.
Karaas straightens, glancing around. "Oh?"
"Time to impress the Bull," Sera says. She looks between Karaas and Adder. There's one obvious way to do that. "He should come in to see you two sparring."
A frown cuts deep scars between Adder's brows. Karaas shifts his weight and looks out over the courtyard. Only then does Sera realize that maybe when two kids grow up smacked about, asking them to smack each other about is frigging stupid.
Well. Shite. Sera opens her mouth, not a clue what she's going to say but knowing she has to say something.
Before she can, Karaas looks back at the two of them. "That's a great idea, actually."
"What?" says Adder.
"Only if you want to, of course. You haven't even warmed up..." He seems for-real worried. If he'd said that in any other tone, that would've been trash-talking.
Adder laughs. "Out in the field, fights don't always wait for you to do your stretches. You stay in this business a few more years, you'll learn how to compensate for that." Ah, there's the trash-talking. Trust Adder to keep things above the belt.
"'This business'?" He eyes her with an anxious frown. "From what I've heard, you've been out of the life for a long time, Inquisitor. In fact, they say," he nods to the soldiers all around him, "the Herald of Andraste hasn't even shown her face on the training grounds for months. I wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of your men..."
Wait, his funny looks like serious. Sera feels like she gets Karaas a bit more. And it's interesting that he's asked around about Adder.
Sera flashes Adder a grin. "She got me to give her all the exercise she needs."
Karaas glances away, clearing his throat.
"'Sides," Sera continues, "she been too busy killing high dragons to—"
"No need to boast, love. Karaas won't fight as well without the illusion that he stands a chance." Adder goes off to grab some wooden daggers, leaving Sera and Karaas alone. Everyone else on the training ground's been pretending not to watch the Inquisitor and the Qunari she's taken such a shine to. No one's gossiping right in front of them, but they gotta be going on about this in the barracks.
"She what you thought she'd be?" Sera asks.
Karaas watches his sister. He says "No," so neutrally that she can't tell if that's a good or bad thing. After a moment's thought, he looks back at Sera. "Have you been together long?"
"Forever, seems like. 'Round...frig, three whole years? Huh. Mad, that." He's looking at her like she said something weird. "Hey, I shouldn'ta pissed on your Dalish fam last night. Bit of a sore spot for me, but that don't make it right."
"They made it clear they weren't really my family." There's a flatness to his tone that makes her heart hurt. "But it's second nature to defend someone who's shown you a bit of kindness, I suppose."
"Ugh. Elfy elves say they're better than you in a thousand ways, don't they? Had a lover once tried to get me in good with 'em. I said Darek Shirell wrong one too many times, though." An idea about the sparring match hits her. "Wait, get started without me, I gotta do something." She pauses, adds, "She'll go for your left side first," before she runs off.
"I...thank you?" is all she hears of Karaas' reply.
By the barracks is the weapons storage room. She grabs a bow, finds some blunted arrows and swings a quiver of them on her back. Then she takes the steps to the courtyard two at a time, then from there to the battlements overlooking the courtyard.
Her hair's proper long, these days—past her shoulders. The wind whips it about so she has to claw it back behind her ears. The other day, Adder joked that Sera sheds hair ties like a dog in spring sheds fur. They're never around when she needs them.
Hair out of her eyes, Sera watches Adder and Karaas spar. A feint here, a dodge there, still circling and getting each other's measure. She focuses on Karaas. Doesn't seem anything special. Adder coulda brought him down with one hand up to cover her yawn. Going soft on him, just like I thought. The soldiers are starting to gather—Sera will have to start firing arrows soon or risk hitting people.
Bull and the Chargers are in the courtyard now. Inhaling deep, Sera whoops, "Kick his arse, Buckles!", nocks an arrow, draws and fires at Adder. Practice arrows are heavier than Sera's usual, their blunted end covered in wads of cotton so they don't hurt more than a punch, so the arrow falls long before Sera meant it to.
Adder reacts instantly to the hiss of an arrow. She whirls around in time to see the arrow fall a few yards away from its target. "Sera!" she shouts—then ducks the wooden sword Karaas swings at her. The soldiers between Sera and the practice circle scatter out of the way.
They've got Iron Bull's attention. Good. Sera nocks and draws again. But they're still fighting like two kids having a shoving match. Karaas's good at taking hits, the way sword-and-shielders always are, but he doesn't strike out as much as Cass or Blackwall would. He's still cautious. Sera fires and arrow right in between the two of them.
His shield swings out—protecting Adder. The arrow bounces off his shield. He and Adder share a look. Sera gets another arrow ready. They can have feelings at each other all they want once they're off the field. Karaas says something that makes Adder laugh and banter back. Sera sends three arrows at them in succession, but they're both safe behind Karaas' shield.
Adder says something. As she speaks, she snaps the pommel of her dagger up to meet Karaas' face. Karaas pulls back just in time, swinging his shield between them. He grins, mouth stretching as broad as his sister's does. The first look at Karaas behind his armour—this is the guy Sera wants to see more of.
The sibs start fighting good and proper. Karaas clips Adder with a shield bash that makes Sera wince until she remembers it's just from a wooden shield. Soon, Adder and Karaas and Sera all fall away. There's only the gap in the defense, the reach of the sword, the furious assault of the daggers, the places where the arrows can hit.
Adder wins. Iron Bull would call bullshit if she didn't. Karaas bashes her off-balance, she falls, and while she clutches her head, he raises his sword. But he doesn't notice the arc her legs make as they sweep his feet out from under him. They wrestle around on the ground a bit, but Adder gets her daggers to his throat. He raises his hands, surrendering.
They're panting, dirty, sweating as Adder helps him to his feet. Sera bolts down to the courtyard. It looks like Bull's about to lead the Chargers into the Herald's Rest. Sera helpfully notes, "Some fight, innit?" to make him stay. One of the soldiers is handing Adder and Karaas cups of water.
"Good to see Adder out in the yard," Bull says approvingly. "Who's that guy, anyway?"
"Karaas." Feels like Adder should be the one saying this, but she's still chatting with her brother. "Karaas Adaar. Her brother."
Bull's got to know something about Adder's family shite. His gaze sharpens as he looks between Karaas and Adder: his Bin-Hissthath stare. "Hmm." He glances back at Sera. "How's she taking it?"
"Things are weird, but after Corininan, what's a little weird? She seems fine."
Iron Bull grunts. "Yeah, she's good at seeming fine."
Simple words, but they make worry tighten Sera's shoulders. What else can she do to help Adder? Their shag last night was fine. Adder slept the night through. She was so normal this morning. Just a day like any other.
Bull's grand, but he don't really know her. I know her. She drew her bleeding horns for me. She ain't hiding anymore.
"Think drinks with me and the boys will help?"
Sera blinks. That's exactly the chance Karaas is waiting for. "Bull, you read my mind." She grins up at him. "Think that means a demon's faffing about in you, pulling thoughts outta my skull. Better watch out."
Bull huffs at the word 'demon'. "You're uninvited."
"Pssh. No party ever made could keep me out, big man."
Which is true as true can be. The Chargers get their gear stowed and polished, Lady Josie gets their coins counted and paid out, Cabot gets the kegs tapped and glasses cleaned, and the party starts—with Sera in the thick of it.
Adder makes the introduction while her brother tries not to piddle. "Bull, this is my little brother, Karaas Adaar."
"Hey," Bull says, clasping arms with Karaas.
Karaas's return "Hey," is a little breathy.
"You two have a mutual boss in common, Bull: Fisher of Fisher's Bleeders."
Iron Bull laughs in surprise. "He's still around? Shit. Sorry you had to deal with him."
There's a pause before Karaas jumps in with, "It was a caravan run from Hossberg to Kirkwall. A group of bandits took us three days in. Ah, most of us survived."
"The goal of any good captain is all. So, how long have you been in the business?"
"Since I was seventeen, so...uh, ten—no, thirteen years." Karaas clears his throat. With only a smidge more confidence, he manages, "I heard you fought moving trees?"
Krem starts telling that tale. Karaas has stories, too, but Sera knows from the few she heard yesterday that they're pretty ordinary. They're not Chargers-level. But it's not like the Chargers were born Chargers. Bull knows that.
Seems like Karaas doesn't know Bull knows that, though. He licks his lips now and then, and Sera's close enough that she can see the pulse hammering away at his throat.
Things get a tetch awkward when Rocky asks what the Valo-Kas are like.
Karaas shrugs. "I've never—I, uh, couldn't say." He opens his mouth then closes it.
Adder rescues him. "We've actually never worked together. Our lives took us in pretty separate directions. This is the first time we've seen each in...wow, feels like forever."
Karaas nods. Sera'd wondered what "I abandoned my brother when he was six years old" was going to turn into. It's only awkward for the three of them; nobody's got any followup questions.
As he chit chats, Karaas tries to keep cool, but watching him's a touch embarrassing. He goes overboard. Even starts talking in Elvish to Dalish. When he's off listening to Rocky's story about the time he exploded the Shaperate, Sera asks how Dalish liked him. "I could barely understand a word he said," she admits. "The Rivaini clans have the most peculiar accent, it seems."
Sera manages to snag Karaas alone as he listens to the minstrel.
"So, what'd you think of the Bull?"
"He's very...big, isn't he?" Karaas murmurs, gaze locked on Iron Bull's back.
Sera knows that look. "He's got a lover. Dorian's off in Tevinter laying the smackdown on some slaver nobs, but Bull gets letters on the regular." It's unfortunate for Bull and Dorian that "on the regular" means "once every few months," what with the ocean between them and all.
"Dorian. That's the magister that fought with the Inquisition?"
"He's not a—yeah, that's the one." Wouldn't Dorian just gloat if he caught Sera calling him by his proper title? "So, anyway, the Bull's got a rider." Sure, Adder says Dorian and Bull have an understanding that they can mess around while they're separated, but Sera won't help her friends be stupid.
"Uh, I wasn't—" Karaas clears his throat.
Not a great liar, this one. "You single?"
Karaas nods. His gaze flickers from her, his weight shifts. Some people feel awkward, like they're being judged for not having found someone. Sera hated that shite when she was single, so she keeps things casual.
"You looking? Fine if you're not, but if you are, I'm the people that knows people. I set up," she starts counting on her fingers, then gives it up after eight, "a frigging load of couples around Skyhold. I got two babes named after me: Sera and Jenny."
He blinks at her second name. "I'm not looking, but thank you."
Who makes mercs this sodding polite? He doesn't take the bait and ask why she's also called Jenny. He's gone back into himself. He inhales deep, looking across the Herald's Rest at all the Bull's Chargers. The legends. His gauntleted hand clenches at his side.
So prattling on with me ain't on his list of priorities. Fair. "Hey, mate." Sera would put her hand on his shoulder if he could feel it. "He loves Maraas-Lok." Karaas's eyes widen at the name. "Not too expensive, neither. You get some for him and Adder, they'd appreciate it."
"Even I've heard of Maraas-Lok." His expression drops. "Maker, if anyone starts a drinking contest..."
"No, that's... Argh, the Bull's complicated, yeah? He seems like he's just this one thing, but he's not. You say you don't want to drink, he gets it. Everything's all good by him, long as you can do your job. Shite, one of his Chargers just grunts all the time. Maybe he'd have a happier life if he talked to people like people do, yeah? But Bull don't try and change that."
Karaas takes this in, so serious he looks like a stereotypical Qunari. "All right. But...is there anything he likes slightly less? I don't want to seem like I'm brown-nosing."
"Good idea. See, mate, you got this." She thinks a mo. "Flames of Our Lady's always a good choice."
"Flames of Our Lady," he mutters, like he's worried he'll forget. Sera's startled. What merc doesn't spend enough time in taverns to know about Flames? It's not that uncommon.
Maybe I should be like Bull and let people be the weirdies they are. Look at how good I pay attention to shite I don't care about.
Karaas smiles down at her, his expression softer than she's seen it. Another peek behind the armour. "Thanks, Sera. You've been a great help."
Sera grins back. Sera was always the wrong kind of elf. Not so weird to think Karaas might've always felt like the wrong kind of merc.
He heads over to the bar. Adder always says you don't really know a person until you've played Wicked Grace with them. Might be easier on Karaas if everyone were playing a game instead of him trying to make chit-chat with a room full of strangers. Also, Krem beat Sera last time they played—time to win some coin back.
Sera's got a set of Wicked Grace cards in her old room. She nabs a candle then takes the stairs two at a time. Ten of her Naughty Chantry set are collecting dust in the corner. She's cleaning them off when there's scattered applause downstairs. Sera pokes her head out.
Karaas is backing away from Iron Bull, having spilled two tankards worth of booze on him. Sera cringes. "Oh, Andraste's tits, mate!" she mutters.
One of the serving girls rushes over with a dish towel. Karaas, stammering apologies, takes the towel from her and wipes Bull off himself. Bull shrugs and says something with a smile that makes Adder laugh. Karaas doesn't even crack a smile. Only when Bull waves him away does he back off, eyeing Bull uneasily. Adder says something, easy-going as anything. Karaas nods once, forces a smile, then says something and heads for the door, ignoring the serving girl who tries to take the dish towel from him.
Frig, don't sulk! All right—pep talk, part two. Sera bounds down the stairs and hurries after him.
"Love," Adder says as Sera passes her, "Karaas just needs a moment—" Sera's gone before she can finish, and the bar's loud enough that she can pretend she didn't hear. Adder didn't see Karaas' hand clench or the desperation in his eyes. She doesn't know how much Karaas has riding on this.
She leaves the Herald's Rest to see him heading down the stairs, to the lower latrines so he won't be bothered. Cold spring wind lashes her hair against her face. She has to spit some out her mouth. Caught again with no sodding hair ties—where do they all get to?
She makes her way to the lower courtyard and past the merchants' stalls. All right. Look, you can do this. Sera can't quite tell if she's practicing what she'll say to Karaas or telling herself she can console him. Her and words don't always fit. But someone's got to try. He's my lover's brother, so he's family.
One of the horses neighs as she walks past the stables. She's spun around and heading there before her brain says why: that neigh sounded off, like a shout. Sera can just imagine Karaas bellowing and punching a wall. No one would think to look for him in the stables. And once the angries are out, it's back to the Rest to be smooth as butter the rest of the night.
She pushes the stall door open. A fireplace in a stable's stupid (even Beardy admitted that), and there's still some mages who aren't at the College of Enchanters, so everything's lit by magical glow-lamps now.
But there must be something wrong with this glow-lamp. Some mage hit the wrong rune or whatever. Because what it's showing makes no sense.
There's Barty, one of the stableboys, on his back in the muck and straw, grabbing at his throat like he was punched there. There's Brownie, one of their coursers, out of his stall near Karaas, who's turning to face Sera. Karaas must've slapped on dragon hunter vitaar as he walked—white and black streaks run from forehead to cheeks, and there's a yellow smear 'round his mouth like he's a toddler eating apricot jam.
Nothing makes sense.
Karaas moves fast, but he's big, noticeable. He snaps his fist out and Sera's dodging aside before the punch lands.
"Oi! Karaas—what—?"
Another punch, another dodge. Some part of her is calculating how she can slam her fist into his throat.
Something chill touches along her bare arm: the dish towel. Sera didn't even notice he still had it on him. Who brings a sodding towel to a fist fight? He doesn't throw it at her face or try to bind her hands with it. Just a touch, then he flings it to the muck at his feet.
No frigging sense!
Sera takes stock: No bow. No arrows. No flasks. No inner circle. Just her in a loose shirt and pants against a fully-armoured Qunari wearing the best vitaar in Thedas. But there's a pitchfork behind him on the far wall. If she can just snag it...
She jabs at his throat, but he expected that. He grabs at her arm. She dodges, but only just. Grabbing his outstretched arm, Sera swings herself between his legs. He kept his stance wide. Good combat strategy—shite for dealing with tricky rogues.
Now, the pitchfork. She lunges forward and snatches it from the wall. Her breath sticks in her throat as she turns around. She swings the pitchfork out in front of her like a sword. Karaas faces her, standing in front of Brownie, like he's thinking she'd hurt her favourite horse just to stop him from leaving. Prick.
Her breath hitches again. Sera readies herself to charge, breathing deep—or trying to. There's a noose, inside her skin, tightening around her neck.
Poison.
She throws the pitchfork at Karaas anyway because fuck him. It clangs harmlessly off his armour, then falls in the straw with a sound like a tired, bitter chuckle.
Sera keeps filling her mouth with air, but it's not going where it should. Barty. The lad's gone still. No.
Karaas turns away, puts his hands on Brownie's withers and swings himself up onto the horse. Someone riding out from Skyhold bareback is odd, sure, but everyone knows Adder gave her brother dragon hunter vitaar. The guards will probably let him go. Or maybe he'll just poison them, too. Who knows what else he's got?
Karaas digs his heels in, and Brownie trots out the stables. Only Sera's gasps, now. The dracolisk hisses, like he's jealous he didn't get to go. The bastard would just love to take part in Adder's evil brother's escape.
Because the dracolisk's a bastard who's gone after the other horses loads of times, whose neigh is a scream loud as an alarm bell—
Sera bolts for the dracolisk's stall. Spots dance across her vision as she strains against the heavy bar across the door. Once she finally lifts the bar, she swings the door open.
The nightmare steps out, all fangs, horns and scales. His gaze locks on Sera, who suddenly remembers all the times she insulted him. What if he remembers, too? He doesn't know words, but maybe he knows tone. What if he takes revenge?
Then, the beast raises his head, sniffing at the air. Sera's limbs are growing heavy. With a hiss, the dracolisk tears out of the stable. He doesn't neigh. Frigging thing. The one time he keeps quiet! Who'll catch Karaas now?
Sera's on her knees. She can't remember falling. When did her pulse get so loud? It's all she can hear as she crawls to Barty. His skin looks blue, but that's gotta be the glow-lamp. Everything looks off in witchy, unnatural light.
Snagging his shoulder with one hand, she uses her other to start dragging them out of the stable. Or what she thinks is out. It's getting hard to see. She strains, muscles burning. Did she even move?
Sera tries again. It'd be nice to have Blackwall's fire back in the stable. Everything's cold.
Her cheek's resting in the straw. Get up, stupid. No time for a—