The Warden & The Inquisitor
Chapter 7
Rhysa sat against the hard wall as she gazed down at her hand. It had stopped glowing, but she still felt something rushing through her veins. She clenched it into a fist. Why did Rhyan have to bring this up? Her hand had been like every other hand until the Hero showed up, and at the mention of its power, it came to life. She hated that green glow, the rush of energy it sent through her body. The only way she had ever put up with it was the knowledge that it offered some greater good. But the sky was calm now. There was no Breach to close, only Rhyan's demons to futilely chase, and that she would not give up her normality for.
Cole sat nearby. Despite her efforts to humanize him, many at Skyhold were still distrustful of the boy and that's exactly why she came to the third floor of the tavern. She knew it would just be her and Cole and no one would come to bother them. He was strange, but she had grown used to it. He could even be comforting at times. She watched him draw on a sketchpad rapidly but couldn't even fathom what. She looked at back her hand.
"It frightens you," Cole spoke suddenly, continuing to move his pencil across the paper determinedly.
"It angers me," Rhysa corrected, gritting her teeth.
"Like a blanket, anger covers, it protects." He stopped drawing and stared at her. "It frightens you." Rhysa didn't respond and he returned to his art, musing to himself, "Crackle, kindle, claim. It is like fire, burning and growing. It will consume me."
She shifted so that Cole was no longer in her line of vision and slowly stretched her fingers. The strange feeling was going away. It always went away eventually, but then it would always come back. She slammed her hand against the wooden floor. It hadn't gone away for good the last time like she'd hoped. It would always come back.
She looked up and Cole stood in front of her, his eyes wide and soft. "It's not such a bad thing," he said quietly, but Rhysa was in no mood to hear it. She stood and left the tavern briskly.
Cullen was already lying in her bed when she got to her quarters. She wasn't sure why she was surprised, he spent most nights there. His room did have a hole in the ceiling, after all. She began to undress and hoped he was asleep but then he spoke, "The Theirins want to meet with you in the morning."
She sighed. "If I must." As she removed her pants she realized there was something crunching in them and pulled a folded piece of paper out of her pocket. She examined it and smiled. When had he put that in there?
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"If she would just accept what has happened to her…" Rhyan paced the room she and Alistair had been offered. It was the best room in Skyhold, aside from the Inquisitor's, but still paled in comparison to royalty's greeting anywhere else.
From the bed Alistair, attempted to clean his own armor, though his wife's constant comments clearly distracted him. "Perhaps she physically cannot open the eluvian," he offered innocently, wiping desperately at a mark on his breastplate that looked more like lunch than blood.
"She can. I know she can. The power she wields is beyond any this realm has ever seen. How could she not be able to open something so primitive it was made by ancient elves?" Rhyan huffed and heaved as she walked the span of the room. "She just doesn't want to do it because I'm the one who's asking."
"Then get someone else to ask," the king remarked, unthinkingly as the spot on his armor finally became undone.
She stopped short at this revelation. "Yes, I'm certain there's someone here she will listen to…"
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Leliana emerged from her quarters early in the morning awake and rested. She stared down at the movements of Skyhold and knowingly, mentally marked all of their progressions. She wondered what the day would bring to her. One of the things she enjoyed most about being Spymaster was the intrigue of every letter, the allure of every question.
However, one thing she didn't expect was the Queen's presence at her side as she crossed the garrison between Cullen's office and her own tower. Rhyan approached her more silently than she'd like to admit, but nonetheless they greeted each other as friends.
"Rhyan!" the Spymaster caught her breath for a moment. "Was there something you needed, my dear?"
The Hero smiled at such a familiar address. It had been much too long since she had been called 'dear' and she loved Leliana even more for using the word. "I was hoping you could help me," she began, never one to avoid a topic she wished to discuss. "Your Inquisitor seems reluctant of her gift. If she cannot wield it, she will surely succumb to it."
Leliana listened intently. She nodded along, but always considered the woman she had met many months ago. Rhysa had never liked the anchor, but she had also never proven herself afraid to wield such power. While she recognized what Rhyan was trying to do in using the advisor against her leader, Leliana still resolved herself to speak with the Inquisitor about her Maker-given gifts and how she should use them. This was, after all, for the Grey Wardens… and for Rhyan.
