The spring day had started early. Snow was still melting in the shaded nooks of Skyhold but the weather had grown warmer. The Inquisitor rose with the sun and sometimes fell with it too if the day would be particularly exhausting. For Maren Trevelyan, every day was exhausting. Josephine kept guests busy so she didn't have to interact with them and effect their standing in the Game and Cullen did well in maintaining reports from his men as well as Leliana. Honestly, if it weren't for her advisors, the Inquisition would have crumbled. But still, there was always something to be done. Her inner circle had grown and that had created drama. Most of her companions did not approve of Maren allowing Cole to stay but most of her companions didn't stick around the infirmary to help the injured and dying.
Solas was busy with his painting and research and was decidedly distant when Maren would try to establish a friendship with him. Perhaps he assumed that since she wasn't an apostate like him, she was some bumbling fool who understood nothing. He wasn't half wrong but the egg head could be more pleasant.
Dorian still flirted with Maren, when he had the time. Mostly, he was in that tower above the tavern with Bull and probably scarring unfortunate passersby. Maren mourned the constant banter before the pair had discovered each other but was happy her friends had found...distraction with each other.
Blackwall didn't talk much and brooded in the stables. What may have been a blossoming relationship he had crushed instantly after reaching Skyhold, denying that they should go through with it. He'd been so insistent on it so Maren had given him space, which she regretted. They admired each other from a distance and were friendly enough, but some instances provided awkward tension. Especially when Josephine was present. Jealousy wasn't something Maren wanted to develop so she kept from the Warden as much as possible.
Vivienne preened herself over a balcony and her pretentiousness was enough to keep Maren at distance. While Maren respected the enchantress, her wit and tone didn't mix well with the Inquisitor. Even if their personalities clashed, if there was something magey Maren wanted to know, Vivienne was happy to provide it.
Cassandra sparred with Maren when they had the time but lately, Maren couldn't find the Seeker. Some witnesses claim she had holed up with some tome in hand. Maren assumed she shouldn't be interrupted, especially if she were reading religious items.
Varric was always writing. Or playing Wicked Grace. He was nice to chat with but he was still a busy dwarf with writing his serials and maintaining his business interests as they were. Maren let him be most of the time but sometimes he purposely tracked her down for a card game, ironically enough when she needed a distraction.
That left Sera. Dear Sera was always ready for a bout of fun. The way she thought and went about things were odd to Maren but she'd caught on to the mischief and had joined her in the occasional pranks. Occasional meaning weekly. Her inner circle being the main targets. Some had even gotten their revenge. Especially Leliana. Having your room flooded with nugs overnight was quite the experience. Most had run away but a few had domesticated to the life of Skyhold and trotted around.
Currently, Maren was relaxing with Sera between errands after a little round of pranks and drinks.
"You!" Josephine marched into the tavern.
"Oh, frig!" Sera shot up. "You did it!" She pointed at Trevelyan before dashing out and away before Maren could stop her and take the fall together.
The Inquisitor suddenly became the center of attention of the tavern as Josephine honed her sharp gaze on her. A tight smile to ease the other patrons' nerves crossed the ambassador's face. "Lady Inquisitor, if I could have a moment of your time."
"Of course." Maren replied, well aware she was probably about to be cast into deep shit. The tavern returned to its casual drone as she stood and left with the Antivan.
Maren followed Josephine back into the castle and into her office where at the entrance, a bucket and some slop was. Further in, a figure sat in a chair near the fireplace, trying to clean his face of the goo that had been in the bucket previously with a handkerchief Josephine had no doubt lent him. When he turned at the sound of their arrival, Maren paled. She was in such deep deep shit.
"I have to say, Inquisitor, I haven't been greeted like this as a guest before. Is this another cultural tradition from Ostwick?" King Alistair asked, trying to pull some of the goop from his hair. Josephine turned and gaven Maren the look. Maren pursed her lips, pressing back a laugh. She would have to tell Sera who the important idiot they had snared with their prank was. Sera would get some hearty cackles out of it.
Maren cleared her throat to recover. "King Alistair, if I'd known you would be arriving today, we would have prepared better." Josephine's burning gaze from the side was enough to know that this wasn't an apology she approved of.
"Oh and miss out on getting drenched in this...this...what is this?" He wrinkled his nose.
Maren glanced at Josephine before clasping her hands behind her back. "You don't really want to know." She said the words slowly.
The King of Ferelden looked at her for a long moment of seriousness. "Right. Well, it is nice to see you again, under better circumstances then last." He placed a gooey hand on her shoulder.
Maren's eyes widened, alarmed by his actions. "What are you doing?"
"I feel so bad with my behavior from before. We should hug it out. I believe that's the best way to resolve it. We'll be allies anyway. Hugs bring people together." Alistair continued, drawing closer.
Catching on, Maren tried to step back but he had a firm grip on her shoulder. She barely had enough time get the first sound of "No" out before she was crushed in a Fereldan bear hug. Over his shoulder, she could see Josephine smirking, satisfied that the insult had been repaid without need of a third party. Maren struggled to push him away, but alas his strength was greater than hers. Perhaps not even Cassandra would be able to escape this vice hug.
"Oh! Look at that! You've got something in your hair Inquisitor." His messy hand went to the back of her head. "Whoops. Looks like I've made it worse."
Josephine covered her mouth, eyes sparkling with laughter. Maren finally managed to push the King away, well, he pulled away, and looked down at herself, some of the slop still connecting the two in strings. He had done a swell job of sharing the sticky substance, most of it covering her front side. She was aware some of it had been wiped on her back and head. In all honesty, he looked cleaner than her now though his hair was still caked in the stuff.
"Well," Maren straightened up, carrying on as if this was indeed a traditional thing from her home, "now that the greetings are out of the way and all wounds are forgiven, Josephine, could you show our esteemed guest to his quarters. I've got some straightening up to do and I'm sure he does too. I'll meet with you soon to begin our negotiations." She bowed respectfully before turning back the way she came and going down the steps instead of going through the throne room to the kitchens. The poor staff would just have to deal with her stealing a barrel and some water so she could bathe in the cellars. Before she could disappear completely, she popped back up and looked to her ambassador. "Oh, and Josephine. If you could bring me some spare clothes."
"Of course, Inquisitor." Josephine smiled.
Alistair waved this time when Maren turned back down the steps. He was cheeky. Maren had heard rumors of how informal the king could be but experiencing it probably in its ultimate form was a whole different thing compared to hearing it. The whole situation had caught her off guard. She hadn't thought he would have responded so quickly to her, rather Josephine's, invitation by arriving unannounced.
Sighing, Maren went about laying her claim on an empty barrel and getting the chef to boil some water. The water had done its work and gotten the goo out of her hair. As for her clothes, she'd have them washed later.
Josephine did get clothes delivered. The garbs were less bland than the clothes Dorian would usually shield his eyes from whenever Maren wore them. They were the color of nug innards as he put it. Maren had agreed and never wore the blasted things again. The clothes sent were casual but could definitely pass as formal if she didn't slouch. The undershirt was plain white and the jerkin was an ashen gray and her breeches the color of coal. She put her old boots back on, the brown things having not been scarred by Alistair's hug, The soiled clothing was tucked in a shadowy corner, either to be forgotten or for Maren to randomly come upon later and take care of.
Finished and refreshed, Maren strolled out into the courtyard from the kitchens, planning on finishing the few errands she had been meaning to take care of before her little prank had gone overboard. A few chats with her followers, gardening, and checking up on the mage tower so she knew they weren't accidentally about to blow up the hold. Hawke had warned her such things were possible.
Hopefully at dinner, King Alistair's humor would still be intact and negotiations would be fruitful.