There were very few nights when Skyhold was quiet.
The bastion of hope that it was, one would almost always hear something: restless soldiers sparring to keep their blades and their minds sharp, the rustling of paper as scribes copied passages from yellowing tomes and scrolls, the cheers of drunken men in the tavern forgetting the horrors they had seen. Skyhold was almost never quiet.
Yet tonight, it was silent.
Farion rushed through the fort's halls, a ringing in his ears that he could not quite place. He double-checked his cloak, making sure the few possessions he had brought with him were all accounted for. He was so busy rummaging around in his pockets, he did not notice the woman leaning against the giant threshold of the main hall.
"And where do you think you're going?"
His eyes snapped forward, his body going rigid in surprise. The shock melted when he saw the woman's face in the low flickering of the torchlight. His jaw set in a defiant scowl.
"That isn't any of your business, Sera."
"Maker's tits, Farinio! Of course it is!" she cried, her exasperation palpable. "I told you I'd look out for you, didn't I?"
"I'm not your problem," he said tersely, stalking past her. She followed.
"What happened to you? You were always a stick in the mud, now you're a damn log." She folded her arms accusingly. "This has to do with Inky, doesn't it?"
"Whatever gave you that idea?" he hissed through clenched teeth.
"Eesh, touchy." They were almost at the gates. "Are you going back to your band of boys?"
The thought of returning to the Valo-kas in his state made his skin crawl. "No."
"Well, then, where the fuck are you off to?"
He said the first place that came to his mind. "Amaranthine."
Sera stopped in her tracks, gaping at him. "You know that place fell to shit almost a decade ago? I was in Denerim at the time, heard all about it. That Warden person - can't remember the name - whatever, really messed up the joint good. They're still rebuilding the place."
"Good. No one will even know I'm there." The idea was sounding better and better with each passing second.
"I'll know you're there," Sera said darkly. Farion stopped, turning to stare at her. She repeated plainly, "I said I'd look out for you."
"You wanna look out for me?" he growled, anger bubbling up inside. He jabbed a finger to her collar aggressively. "Don't tell anyone about this. I've thrown away the life I had before." Memories of warm days spent lazing about beneath his alienage's great tree blew up in a flash of magic. Visions of hands too large for a woman replaced those thoughts. "I can do it again." He turned back to the gates, expending a bit of mana to blink to the other side. He glanced through the iron bars at the dumbstruck Sera. He looked as though he wanted to say something else, then changed his mind. Looking out towards the mountains, he began his long trek.
"Farinio!" He did not turn around. Sera's voice dropped to a whisper. "...Farion. I'm sorry."
"Farion, I'm sorry, but please, leave me alone."
It had been a warm spring day. The Valo-kas were camped just south of Highever, on the edge of a wheat field that stretched for miles. The sea of gold wavered slightly, each delicate strand quivering as the breeze rushed through. Adaar stared blankly at the land as it came alive, waving lazily to her as one might call to an old friend. There was something simple and serene about that Fereldan field that made her heart ache.
"No, Adaar, please don't shut me out. Remember, you told me this company was a family." The man beside her was several heads shorter than she was, or than anyone else in the Valo-kas for that matter. With long, flowing hair and delicate elven features, he was by far the most traditionally feminine merc among the many gray behemoths. This did not keep him from treating the Tal-Vashoth like his family. And Adaar… Adaar was something special. But something was dreadfully wrong with her. "I've had several 'families' in my life, and I don't want this one to end up like the others."
She ignored him, staring out at the swaying field. He couldn't help but wonder if this was her first time to northern Ferelden. The job that brought the Valo-kas there was a by-product of the Fifth Blight. Some noble house needed a little excess manpower after the storm to rebuild. They were moving along the Coastlands, west to east, from the foot of the Frostbacks to near Amaranthine. After an especially nasty outbreak of fighting in the latter area, their employer allowed them to skirt around its edges; after all, they wouldn't get the job done if they were all killed. Instead, they swept back and forth across the Coastlands for well over a month, but a good deal of coin moved with them. In their line of work, coin was the deciding factor for everything.
There was not any real work to be done that particular day; beside that quiet field, the Valo-kas had merely stopped to rest.
"This place is so peaceful," Adaar said softly. "Like it doesn't even know this land was just violated by darkspawn taint." She shuddered. "I hate it here. If I never return here again, it will be none too soon." She turned and strode away from that field and Farion without another word.
He didn't say anything to stop her. If he wanted to but couldn't find the words, that did not matter. He sat down beside the field, inching his way closer until he was practically leaning against the tall stalks. He closed his eyes, feeling the wheat brush around him.
For one fleeting moment, he considered burning that field to the ground.
The thought passed, and he stood, slowly making his way back to the camp. Adaar was nowhere in sight.
"You're all right, then, ser?"
Blackwall looked up at the voice. Master Dennet was poking his head into the barn, his hands gripping the large sliding door. Through the sliver of the nearly closed door, Blackwall could make out the scrawny driver from the trip to Val Firmin hiding behind Dennet. He peered in curiously, scurrying back as soon as he met Blackwall's eyes. Contrasting starkly with the warm glow of the lanterns within the barn, outside was almost pitch black. Shadows etched deeply into the boy's face.
"Yes, Dennet, I'm fine. You can close up." His tone was quietly distracted, and he turned back to his workbench in a daze. The small wooden gryphon sat before him, half-finished.
"Right. I'll leave the key to the stables here." A small jingle reached Blackwall's ears as the key was dropped to a table, and the large door slid closed completely. He set down his carving knife and stood, stretching slowly. It was a series of stretches that the chevaliers used, to check the body for injuries. Testing the Blade, as it was called. He felt a bit guilty using the technique.
"Just something else that doesn't belong to me," he grumbled to himself. He was no chevalier. Once upon a time, he could have been… Thoughts of the Grand Tourney bombarded his memory. It stung.
Blackwall cast his gaze about the barn imperiously, taking in the silence. There was something about that place that just felt right to him. Perhaps he subconsciously knew he was beneath other humans, and deserved to sleep in the dirt like an animal. Perhaps the isolation simply allowed him to breathe. He himself was not sure.
Snatching up the key Dennet left, he strode over to the side door to the stables, unlocking it carefully. The cool night air ruffled his beard as he left the safety of the barn. Inside the stable, the Inquisitor's greater mountain nuggalope watched him sharply with beady black eyes. It reared up as he passed, its thick fingers wiggling at him. He would never find those things anything short of unnerving.
Taking quiet steps in the dark, Blackwall ended up on the stone battlements, overlooking the wreath of mountains around the fort. He could hardly make them out in the darkness, but he knew they were there. Sliding down against the cold wall, he stared upwards at the sky, dotted with stars. Somewhere, a faint sobbing seemed to reach his ears.
He closed his eyes, swallowed up by the night, until only the quiet wail was left.
Adaar's eyes had begun to hurt from lack of blinking. She stood, frozen against the cliff face, as a great scaly head rose into the air, a low growl filling her ears. Casting a quick glance about the sunken marshes she had mistakenly tumbled into, she inwardly cursed her own stupidity. There was not a single, fellow member or the Valo-kas in sight.
Of course, it had not been the smartest decision to scout out the wilds by herself, but Adaar had desperately been in need of some solitude. Not to mention: who in their right mind would have guessed there would be wyverns near Highever?
A pair of vivid green nostrils flared as the creature paced the march threateningly. Adaar was intensely grateful for her light, camouflaged armor, even her gray skin that seemed to match the stone behind her. Her hand crept to her dagger, not daring to move any faster than a snail's crawl. She couldn't call for help. The creature would be on her in a heartbeat, before she had even finished a single word. She doubted she could stand against that rock until it got bored, assuming it never found her. Her brow set, determination filling her veins. Her hand closed around her dagger's hilt. 'Now or never.'
Adaar shot out from the wall, her daggers out and ready. She bellowed a war cry as she moved, hoping to startle the creature just enough to get the upper hand. Unfortunately, the wyvern's reflexes were excellent, and it turned its bulbous orange eyes on her in an instant. Adrenalin flooded her mind and everything seemed to move in slow motion. For a split second, the sun caught the silver of her dagger, sending out a blinding flash. The wyvern's eyes followed the glint of her blade, allowing her a tiny window of opportunity.
Planting her left foot in the ground, Adaar twisted her body around, bringing up her right foot swiftly. The point of her boot collided with the fleshy underside of the monster's jaw, jabbing into its throat.
The wyvern reared in pain. It tried to roar in its anger, but could only muster a low croak.
Adaar hardly had time to savor her attack; in the excitement, she had forgotten that she was, in fact, fighting in a marsh. Her left foot sunk a few inches into the muck, throwing off her balance completely.
"Aagh!" She let out a grunt not unlike that of a dying halla. Her arms flailed wildly, blades nearly flying out of her grip.
The creature was just shaking off the pain of Adaar's attack when she fell on her ass, the wind knocked out of her. Meeting the wyvern's furious leer, Adaar tried to scramble to her feet. The slickness of the mud made that feat nearly impossible.
The wyvern snapped its jaws testily, bearing down upon her. A tiny part of her mind was wondering why it hadn't torn her apart yet, but the bigger, much louder part was drowning out any coherent thought with a long, continuous scream.
Panic-stricken instinct seized her once again, and she swung up a dagger, never once ceasing her horrified shriek. The blade sliced across the creature's face, not quite cutting as deep as it normally would due to the scales, but still leaving a fine gash. Blood poured down its snout, leaving sticky trails to contrast starkly against lurid green armor.
From the wyvern's furious roar, Adaar was fairly certain all she had accomplished was enraging it.
In one swift movement, the monster lunged forward, gnashing its teeth. Adaar managed to twist to the side, avoiding the brunt of the creature's attack, but she could not escape it entirely. A searing burst of pain stabbed into her arm, before a numbness spread throughout the limb. A fog swept about her mind, obscuring any hope of rational thought and leaving her drained and sluggish. Her daggers slipped through her trembling fingers and out of her sight. Clutching her mangled arm with her other hand, she stared in dull shock as the wyvern slowly approached, triumph in its bulging, clever eyes. In her peripheral vision, she could make out movement, accompanied by more growling. An idle thought danced through her hazy brain: 'Of course I fell into a wyvern nest. What a way to go. Well, Tully won't have to worry about paying me. I'll miss him and the others. Shokrakar, Kost… Farion…'
"Adaar!"
At the sound of her name, she looked up. All of a sudden, the marsh was alive with large, gray bodies dropping down from the same cliff Adaar had fallen off before. The Valo-kas had arrived!
Shokrakar barreled past Adaar, slamming the hilt of her greatsword into the first wyvern's face. "Mertam was worried about you!" she called cheerfully to Adaar as she beat the overgrown lizard back with the broadside of her sword. Adaar stare dumbly back, taking a minute to realize she was talking about Farion. 'Mertam' was a nickname many of the ex-Qunari warriors gave to him, meaning 'light boot' in Qunlat. "He made us search the woods like madmen. Good thing, eh?"
Adaar didn't respond. Atop the cliff, Kost towered in his menacing silence, fire raining from the sky as he raised his arms. The marsh quickly turned into a minefield.
And, currently splashing through the muck…
"Holy shit, Adaar!" Farion dashed towards the fallen woman, the mud-soaked hem of his robes doing nothing to hold him back. "You - you crazy bas!"
Her mouth twitched into a tiny smile. If he was resorting to Qunlat, he was really worked up.
His hand closed around her arm, the glow of his magic washing over it. For a brief instant, she expected him to make some joke about her hands, but he didn't. His staff was shaking. "What the fuck were you thinking, taking on a wyvern nest alone?!"
Adaar was quiet, staring bitterly past him to the Valo-kas warriors, who had swarmed the wyverns with the same vigor and noise as a pack of hyenas. She hardly even noticed the feeling sweeping back into her arm.
"You're lucky the Qunari are so resistant to venom," Farion scolded, his expression equal parts anger and worry. "Though if I had been any later, I doubt your resistance would do you much good."
"Yeah, well…" Adaar trailed off, sullen-faced.
"Look." His grip on her arm was becoming painful. "You're not being fair. You know that, right?"
From the far-away look in her eyes, Adaar might as well not have even been there.
Cole sat stiff as a corpse. The Inquisitor had collapsed in his arms, openly sobbing as memories came rushing back.
"I was… so horrible…" She choked on her words. Cole said nothing. Truth be told, he was unnerved. Every time he saw the Inquisitor in such a state, the world just seemed wrong. He wanted to see her so blindingly bright that she was unfathomable. Not… like this.
So perturbed was he that he didn't notice the sounds of her sobs had died down to sniffles until she tugged on his sleeve. He looked down at her with watery eyes.
"Yes, kadan?" he asked slowly, face awash with apprehension.
"Where is he?" Though her eyes were red and puffy, her face retained the same stoniness the rest of Thedas always saw.
"I… don't know." It was the truth. He had not seen Farion on the way up. A pang of worry struck him. "Did he say anything to you before…?"
"No." She wiped her eyes fiercely, pulling herself up to her impressive stature. Cole remained on the floor. "He just said, 'Maybe this is for the best.' But I know who can find him." Her serious expression broke into a wan smile at Cole's befuddled look. "I don't have a spymaster for nothing, kadan."
Without another word, she headed off towards the War Room. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Cole scrambled to his feet and followed quickly after.
As the two approached the great doors past Josie's desk, the tell-tale signs of an argument became increasingly obvious. Impassioned voices collided, and a loud clatter of steel on wood gave a strong impression that Cassandra had slammed her fist against the table. Cole and the Inquisitor exchanged grim looks, before they slowly opened the doors.
The shouting came to an abrupt halt as the doors creaked open, and immediately all eyes were on the Inquisitor.
"How are you feeling?" Leliana asked quietly. Where the other three that stood about the table were red-faced and puffing, the spymaster appeared perfectly calm, if somewhat distracted.
It took a moment for the Inquisitor to find her voice. "Fine, thank you," she lied. "Much better."
"Excellent," Cullen said briskly, rubbing his hands together. "We can finally finish that report-"
"What of the mage?" Leliana interrupted, paying no attention to Cullen's glare. "He is not with you. I have questions for him." Her eyes were deadly sharp.
The Inquisitor's jaw clenched. "Right. About that…" Pressing her palms to the table, she cast a weary look about the assembled advisors. "Send out a notice across Skyhold. Find out if he's still on the grounds. If he is, tell me immediately, and do not let him out of sight."
"Inquisitor, is this man - this mage - dangerous?" Cassandra's eyes flashed, and her hand rested on the hilt of her sword.
Something sad crossed the Inquisitor's eyes, and once again Cole saw Adaar, not the Inquisitor. "Only to himself," she responded shortly. "If he cannot be located on the grounds, I want scouts combing the Frostbacks. He can move in ways most people can't thanks to his magic, but he still cannot have gotten far. We need to-"
"You probably shouldn't go through with that."
At once, all eyes snapped to the doors, which were open just a crack. Peeking through, looking more sheepish than ever before, was Sera. Her eyes were trained on the ground, and she looked distinctly uncomfortable.
Josephine stepped forward, clutching her quill as if it were the sharpest of swords. "Sera! Do you know something about this?"
She shifted reluctantly. "Maybe." Her eyes met Cole's in a shrewd glare, and immediately he understood why she was so twitchy. As if in apology, he cast his gaze downward. This seemed to relieve Sera greatly. She didn't want him, or anyone else for that matter, to know what she knew unless it was on her terms.
Cullen scoffed incredulously. "'Maybe'? Sera, we don't have time for these games."
"He doesn't want to be found, now does he?" she cried, stepping fully into the room. "I told him I'd look out for him. I don't really get what happened, but I can at least understand that he does not want to be found." She glared at each person defiantly, as if daring them to ignore her words.
Cassandra frowned. "Be that as it may, people do not always want what is best for themselves or those around them. Especially mages." Her mouth twisted slightly. "I would have thought you of all people would follow that same idea."
"I- well-" Sera quickly grew flustered. She was standing up for a male, elven mage. The world really was coming to an end. She sighed, calming down somewhat. "He's more than a mage. He doesn't deserve this." She fixed her stare on the Inquisitor, unusually serious.
Leliana glanced at the Inquisitor, a quizzical look on her face. "Inquisitor?" she prompted lightly.
The Inquisitor scratched at her neck tiredly. "Belay that command. He goes free."
Her words stirred an immediate uproar.
"Inquisitor!" Josephine gasped. "Do you truly think this is a wise decision?"
"We can't afford to let him wander free," Cullen barked, outraged. "You yourself said he was dangerous!"
"To himself," she glowered. "He is a healer. His magic is used to heal things. Not - not to blow up a - a chantry or something." A pause. "But he's a broken man. Too much has happened in his life. Sad to say part of that is my fault. Maybe I'd just make it worse." Suddenly, she turned to Sera. "You spoke to him?"
Sera jumped, before slowly nodding her head. "Yeah."
"Was he - did he seem… all right?" Her tone could not hide a desperate strain.
"Uh…"
"Right, stupid question. Then…" She struggled to reword her question properly. "Did he seem like he was going to do something stupid?"
Sera averted her eyes shiftily. "I ain't the best judge of 'stupid', Inky, but…" She shook her head. "He was sad. Pissed off. But not stupid. I think - I think he knows what he's doing. I trust him."
"And there you have it." The Inquisitor bowed her head, a sad smile playing on her lips. "I trust him as well. Cole?"
The whole room seemed to start in surprise, even Cole. It appeared everyone, including Cole himself, had forgotten he was there.
"Yes. I trust him," he responded after he had gotten over his initial shock.
"As do I." The words came from Leliana, the most startling declaration of all. Cassandra, Cullen, and Josephine stared at her, speechless. There was a glint in her eye. Cole remembered seeing that same glint when he first brought Farion to Skyhold. "And I believe that makes it a majority. We shall not pursue Farion."
"But you said you wanted to interrogate him!" Cassandra spluttered, utter astonishment on her face.
"Sometimes, people need to move on from their old lives. Sometimes, it is better not to stop them from doing so." Her voice was quiet, but held a note of finality that was expected of Leliana.
Cole watched her carefully, knowing she spoke too much from experience.
After a heavy pause, the discussion moved on in unspoken agreement. As the topic turned to strategy and planning, Sera silently left. Cole slipped out not long after.
There was much to think about, and it made his head hurt.