He guessed that the giant stone fortress in the center of the mountains directly where Adalyn said it would be had to be Skyhold.

Krem led a larger group now than he had before after Haven was destroyed.

The wounded soldiers and some of the Chantry sisters had peeled off from the group to seek aid at Redcliffe, and a few of the frost-worn diplomat aides that Josephine employed had opted to stay in civilization.

The main reason why the entourage behind him was so large was because rumors had spread of Haven's fall, and the Herald's miracle survival. Many of the faithful hopped on the bandwagon, hoping to meet the Herald of Andraste.

The group approached the main gate, which was closed, and came to a halt before it.

After Haven, no wonder it's closed.

Krem thought as Bull stepped up beside him, cupping his hands to his mouth and bellowing,

"OPEN THE GATE; IT'S THE CHARGERS AND COMPANY."

A guard on the top of the wall poked her head over the edge and called down,

"We know, we saw you coming, we're working on it."

No sooner had she spoken when the gate began to lower and they all could file into the courtyard.

Krem immediately pulled himself and the Chargers to the side as the crowd flooded in behind them.

Bull surveyed the courtyard with his elevated perspective, scanning the crowd with his hand shading his eyes.

"She's helping the wounded." Bull noted.

Krem nodded unhurriedly, but secretly he felt increasingly impatient to see how she was.

He knew she wasn't perfect: she was someone who put the needs of the many before her own, she can't sing sweetly like a Bard or a Chantry Sister, she was insecure about her height, she drank booze too quickly to be good for her, Maker, she was even a blood mage. But that didn't make her any less worthy of someone looking out for her for her sake, not just because she was the Herald of Andraste.

After a little while, watching the reunions between Inquisition recruits, the healers scrambling for more elfroot, and the Chantry officials file into a semi-orderly puddle, Krem decided to try and find Adalyn.

He took a step towards the tents the healers propped up in the courtyard and turned to look at Bull when the Qunari gave him a shout of,

"Krem! She's at the center of the funny hats!"

Krem turned to look at the small crowd of ministers, pilgrims, and Chantry Sisters. The muddle parted finally to form some sort of order; someone would approach and reverently bend to one knee, kissing Adalyn's hand like she was some sort of messenger of the Makers Bride.

She looked thinner and more tired than he had ever seen her, her hair looked like she hadn't washed in a couple of days and the dark marks under her eyes were a given. And yet she still glowed with all the gentle radiance of Andraste's grace.

The scene made for a pretty portrait.

He briefly wondered if anyone was painting this right now.

He looked to the right.

Yeah, there was a painter already set up with an easel, sketching the moment in charcoal with his right hand while furiously mixing paint with his left, and holding a paintbrush in between his mouth.

Of course there's a painter.

Rather than ruin the scene, he just stood off to the side and watched her speak softly to the attendants around her.

Soon, he began the feel the hot breath on the top of his head, and saw the looming shadow cast on the ground ahead of him.

"KREEEEEEEM." The Iron Bull boomed.

He had little time to prepare before he got the boot to the literal ass, sending him stumbling forward until he tripped his way to fall at Adalyn's feet.

He snapped to awareness and looked up quickly, a greeting and an excuse rambling from his mouth at once.

And, oh, she looked so glad to see him.

"Krem," She murmured softly, bringing her hands to feel the lines of his face and smiling in relief.

Krem stood up slowly as she bent down to meet him midway, and then they were crouching with their arms flung about each other in an awkward embrace. Well, with him doing most of the hugging, and her mostly just sagging against him.

It occurred to him that she probably needed sleep more than people right now. He shuffled his feet a little and moved his arms to pick her up in his arms.

"What are you…"She began, but never finished the thought, slipping off into sleep, her head on his shoulder.

"If you would excuse us, the Herald has seen more than enough of people for today, and needs to catch up on her sleep. Good day." He said formally to the gathering, giving a half-bow so as not to have Adalyn spill over his arms.

Krem then marched away from the murmuring crowd and the cursing painter (something about ruining the portrait of the century), and wandered over to where the healers were and inquired to where Adalyn's sleeping quarters were situated.

According to the healer, Adalyn never used the bed they had set up for her, and instead slept in a hammock tied to a rickety beam of wood and a tree branch right near the wounded so she could be roused in an emergency.

Krem asked where the actual bed was, and was answered with a point in what he hoped was the right direction.

He headed up the stairs and turned right, heading for the wooden construction, just beginning to be built and received further directions from an guard that her room was on the other side of Skyhold in a cleared out room above what would become the garden. He thanked them and moved on, finally coming to a stop before the door standing on the alcove above the muddy, deserted garden.

He awkwardly turned on of his arms so he could unlock the bloody thing and almost had Adalyn fall out of his arms in the process. He managed to get the door open and kicked it closed behind him, surveying the bare room, which contained a single cot and herbs strung up to dry from string attached to the ceiling.

He lay her carefully down on the cot and tugged the thin blanket at the base over her lower half after stripping off her shoes and placing them carefully by the foot of the bed. The chill of winter was still in the spring air in most places, but not here. That didn't mean she didn't still need the blanket.

Krem found himself smoothing the covers out and brushing away some of the short hair that had fallen into Adalyn's face.

Suddenly her right leg fell off the edge of the bed and hung there, outside of the covers.

Krem bent down, grabbed her ankle, and put it back onto the bed and under the sheets.

Her leg fell out again.

He sighed, repeating the motion of stuffing her wayward limb back onto the bed… where it promptly fell off again.

He sighed and resigned himself to letting her leg fall where it may.

"Behind the radiant light. Dark, emptiness. The people, they help her burn brighter. But alone she has nothing, she is nothing. Scratching biting empty darkness on the inside, twisting and turning and all things shaking, the taste of the sea."

The voice that came from nowhere startled Krem; he stood bolt upright and looked around for the source.

"I'm Cole. I have been watching her." The same voice spoke again. "I watch."

Suddenly, a pale young man appeared out of the wall from a cloud of black fog. His features were obscured by his shaggy blond hair and his shoulders were hunched over.

"Are you a mage?" Krem asked, still startled from how the young man appeared from out of nowhere.

'Cole' shook his head and reached a hand out to Adalyn's face,

Krem tensed, but did not move to stop him.

Cole lightly stroked a gentle finger to the curve of her cheek then retracted his hand, moving it to hers. He stuffed something in between her fingers and backed away.

"She thought she lost it. She was working herself up into a tangle inside over it."

Cole then disappeared then way he came, leaving Krem feeling curious, but with the impression he wouldn't remember anything about Cole later.

Krem moved closer and saw the piece of fabric she held in her curled fingers; the pink floral pattern cut into the shape of a flower stitched onto the handkerchief that she held was miraculously unstained by blood.

She was upset over losing this…?

Adalyn turned over in her sleep onto her stomach, facing away from him. A muffled snort that sounded suspiciously like the beginnings of snoring came from her direction.

And she snores. Of course she does.

Krem was fairly certain he didn't snore. But all the Chargers had weird sleeping habits he was forced to get used to: Dalish is a sleep-mumbler, Skinner sometimes sharpens knives in her sleep; Rocky has been known to crush people by rolling over them, and Bull. Oh, Bull. He snores. Loud.

Krem knew that Bull just did it to annoy him, not because he actually snores. Ben-Hassarath training to stealth-sleep or something. Bull could sleep really quietly… when he wanted to. Which was never.

Krem also had the privilege of discovering (on the journey to Redcliffe with the wounded and diplomats) that Lady Josephine Montilyet snores delicately in her sleep and is accustomed to sleeping with a night-mask on.

Still, even when Josephine had snored, it wasn't as… well, the only word for it was endearing.

He had it pretty bad; and he knew it.

But where to go from here?

He had hoped after the Breach was closed he could tell her his feelings, but he had hesitated, not wanting to rush anything. In this blunder he missed his chance.

He had hoped she would come back from the devastation at Haven; she had, but as a holy savior of the people. He couldn't touch her.

Now...He knew he still wanted to reach out and… he didn't know… tell her?

'She deserves better.'

Some part of him said.

'She might settle for you, but do you think she'll be happy with you being what you are?'

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shut out all of the anxieties crowding in his head and chest.

There had been another girl, a few years ago. He had been in the fledgling mercenary company Bull's Chargers for almost a year then.

She had caught his eye, she was looking at him; and then she smiled and blushed and turned away.

They talked a few times after that; a typical conversation had went,

"Back from a job?"

"Yeah, real rough one too."

"Can I get you something?"

"Just some drinks for me and the boys, thanks."

This had continued for around two months before he had blurted out that he thought she was lovely.

She had smiled and batted her eyelashes, and taken him behind the tavern for a kiss. Well, maybe she had intended on doing more than kissing, when she got his shirt off... the look was one of blank-faced disappointment to red-cheeked anger to bitter words spat in his face.

It had taken him a while to adjust to being open with anyone and Bull helped him a lot during that year of insecurity, but the fear of a rejection like that again one not made of,

"I don't like you that way,"

But,

"I don't like what you are. It's disgusting."

He gathered a breath and glanced once more at Adalyn sleeping with her bum up in the air now and an arm thrown over her head and her snores in full throttle.

He knew Adalyn better than he knew that girl, that's for sure. And that's why, he thought;

She can do better.


Heya, guys! I need some decisions to be made! Review or send me a message with your opinion on these three matters:

1. What three companions should Adalyn take to the Winter Palace?

2. Who should she choose: Celene, Gaspard, or Briala undermining either?

3. Am I writing Krem and Cole well? Those are the two characters I am most worried about misrepresenting!

I hope to hear from you soon and thank you for your continued support!

S.T.