Chapter 36: At the End of the Rose Petals' Trail
The following morning, Skyhold was in chaos.
An organized chaos, that is. One orchestrated by none other than Lady Josephine Cherette Montilyet. The Ambassador herself had woken her up at first light, all but prancing through her room accompanied by two servants, who helped her get dressed, and also a hairdresser, who pinned her hair up in a simple yet alluring style. The dress Josephine had picked for her, cut from a deep burgundy velvet and embroidered with golden thread, matched the time of year, and boasted an absence of sleeves, leaving her full back on display. When the hairdresser pleated a diadem filled with small leaves and golden flowers, she had to admit that the reflection in the mirror surprised even her. In contrast with the deep color of her dress, she wore just enough makeup to accentuate her eyes and lips, but overall the look was more natural than anything else. Before she left her room, Josephine completed the look by adding a golden belt with the Inquisition sigil on the front, which hugged her body perfectly and dipped in the front, forming a V that emphasized her hourglass figure.
She didn't know what would be awaiting her, though, until she went downstairs.
The main room had completely transformed. The accumulated rubble, usually swept out of the way in the corners since no one had the time or resources to clean it away, was gone, and even the dried vines that were still strewn over the fireplace, ascending a good fifteen feet above the floor, had been pruned. Also, the two remaining high scaffolds, which had troubled Josephine so much when they had used the main hall as a ball room in preparation for the Winter Palace, had been taken down. The place looked enormous with all the extra space, even with the addition of several more tables set out to compensate for the arriving men, two in particular almost screaming for attention and placed on the higher platform near the throne, the lower one where they usually ate moved right next to Josephine's office door. One was longer than the other, but both were grand, the one further up holding room for at least twelve people, but with chairs for only seven, all of them magnificent works of art that more closely resembled thrones than actual chairs. The other table was smaller, but long enough to allow each person freedom of movement without elbowing his or her neighbor. There were beautiful and more intricate chairs there than in the rest of the hall, though these were not as grandiose as the others.
Each chair along those tables had a small banner on the back, the symbols on them showcasing how much thought Josephine had put into all these arrangements. On the far left of the longer table, the first chair was draped in red colors, and had a closed fist inside a circle, the symbol of the Inquisition forces. Next to that, she found the twin cross keys on a golden background of Josephine's connections. At the opposite corner, the first banner was half dark and half light blue, the Seekers of the Truth's vigilant eye in the middle, followed closely by the grey raven of Leliana's spy network. All of these settings were for the founders of the Inquisition to sit, leaving the two chairs in the middle for Sebastian and Evelyn herself. Two of the three chairs remaining, those between Josephine and herself, were dressed in vibrant reds and sported Starkhaven's heraldry on them, though one of them was larger than the other, while the third, between Leliana's and what she assumed was Prince Sebastian's, was covered in black, proudly boasting the Inquisition sigil in what looked like the most ambitious work of embroidery that Evelyn had seen in her life, golden threaded floss displaying the all seeing eye on the hilt of Hessarian's sword.
The other table, in turn, also had banners draped over the backs of the chairs, and Evelyn identified all of them, mentally placing each of her companions in their corresponding places: Blackwall on the right head of the table, with the blue and white griffon banner of the Wardens and on the left end, Iron Bull with the Qun's white insignia over a black and red gradient. Along the side starting from Iron Bull's side, Dorian's chair had the dark green snake on the lighter green background for Tevinter, and next was Vivienne's, a light red banner with the mask of the Orlesian Empire rounded by the characteristic symbol of the Circle of Magi. This was followed by the Champion's assigned place, his chair's banner that of Kirkwall's dark layout with the city's golden sigil, appropriately situated next to Varric's chair, emblazoned for the proud Dwarven Merchant's Guild, which she just knew would delight her friend about as much as fifty stacks of urgent letters from said cutthroat Guild. He would probably feel compensated, though, by Josephine's thoughtfulness in placing him close enough to Vivienne, who he could pluck of juicy tidbits for his current story in progress while also being happily between Hawke and Cole. The Kid, as the dwarf affectionately nicknamed him, had in Varric a trustworthy friend, considering how well they got along, and Varric was one of the few (including Solas and Evelyn) who truly enjoyed the company of the Spirit.
Cole's banner, however, displayed an embroidered representation of the Black City, something that Evelyn thought was an unfortunate move on Josephine's part, considering how affected Cole had been by their ordeal through the Fade. Maybe, just maybe, if Evey didn't manage to hide it in time, whatever negative impact the banner might have on the poor kid could be reduced by Solas' calm presence at his side. Unfortunately, the elf's own banner had been designated to that of all the elven gods' sigils arranged in a single and convoluted representation. Honestly, does Josephine not know those three at all?! At least Sera's chair, next to Blackwall's, did not have the symbol for the Dalish, instead dressed with a crimson red cloth that she assumed represented the Friends of the Red Jenny, or what Josephine had assumed was their sigil, since there was not a known banner for the underground organization. That detail, at least, guaranteed that they would not have to dine with half the table's occupants donning sour faces, reducing the number of uncomfortable companions to potentially three, depending on how Solas, Cole, and Varric took their personal sigils.
Those details aside, which she knew she would have to deal with sooner or later, the look of the Common Hall was utterly breathtaking, but the means to achieve that result worried her.
-Josephine, did anyone sleep at all, last night? Please, tell me you didn't keep everyone awake to do this,- she raised her arms as she gestured disbelievingly toward the main hall.
-Actually, the room was very much just like this, last night… Well, except for the two main tables.- The ambassador looked at her from the corner of her green eyes with a mixture of reproach and amusement, walking to the main entrance. -Maybe you would have noticed if you had consumed less alcohol with the Champion.
The clear reprimand paired with the fact that, almost as if on cue, her head throbbed with pain distracted her from the task of removing some of the banners. Evelyn rubbed her temples in clear distress.
-It wasn't my fault. Maker knows how that man managed to get me so drunk without me even noticing.- She looked around and spotted the door to the rotunda. -Which reminds me: have you seen Solas? Maybe he can help me with this blasted hangover,- she added, squinting her eyes at the sunlight pouring through the entrance.
-I daresay The Iron Bull would be more useful for that, Inquisitor,- Josephine answered as if they were only talking about trading routes.
-Ugh, don't even mention that. His hangover cure concoctions taste worse than darkspawn blood.- At this, Josephine turned to stare at her, completely terrified. -Don't look at me like that; I wouldn't really know. I just heard Stroud talking about it once.
The offhand mention of the deceased Warden immediately sent her mood plummeting down. They had come so far since the night when Hawke, Stroud, Varric, the Chargers, and Evey had shared drinks and laughs together that it almost seemed like another life entirely. Now even the thought of being as happy and without worry as she'd felt by the end of that night seemed impossible. She had tried so hard to achieve even the illusion of normalcy, but being the Inquisitor did not seem to go hand in hand with just being Evelyn Trevelyan. Every time she felt she was heading in the right direction and had managed to balance her personal life with her duties, all had gone sideways and she had ended up worse than before.
It happened at Haven, when they had finally settled and reached what looked to be stability at the time. Just as they were celebrating the closing of the Breach at the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, believing they were one step closer to victory, the Elder One had come to wake them from that hopeless dream, killing more people than she could ever forgive herself for losing. Then it had happened once again in the Western Approach, when after a hard battle and with all odds against them, the Wardens saw reason and joined forces with them to fight for a common cause, only to end the night mourning the loss of their superior, and the fact that, without him or any other warden of significant rank, they were a dying organization.
But the worst had happened recently, teaching her that thinking for herself instead of all of Thedas was a mistake to avoid, no matter how much she wanted to believe that being Inquisitor did not mean abandoning the idea of her own happiness and dedicating her life only to her duty. For once she had dared to be herself, and the burden of her position had fallen on her with such force that it had killed all possibilities of having any semblance of a normal life. The mark had cautioned her of this, growing furious with each passing day, but she had ignored it. Like a woman in love, she had become blind to the warnings and had rushed to live, if only for a brief moment, in the joy of being just Evelyn, and not the Herald. But the Inquisitor had stepped forward, and the mark had proved to her how wrong she was for harboring that hope. And with that, she had lost the only thing she'd ever wanted for her own: Cullen's love.
The sooner she realized that Evelyn Trevelyan was currently nothing more than leverage in political affairs hidden behind the Inquisitor facade, condemned to forever be in the margins of her own life, forgotten and unsatisfied, dreaming of a life and possibilities she might have had, the better. The woman in her had died the day she received this mark. She was nothing but the bearer of the anchor, the vessel to carry the power that could destroy Corypheus and save Thedas, nothing more. To expect more was nothing but an illusion that she would do well to forget, for her and the Inquisition's best interest. She was now an instrument, the weapon of this organization, trapped in the body of a woman but sentenced to be nothing but the former. And now, even Cullen was able to see that.
The moment she raised her eyes, spiraling toward despair, the perfectly timed entrance of the Commander into the main hall spurred forward the idea that, somewhere back down the road, she had severely aggravated the Maker, and now He was making her pay for it.
For a brief second their eyes met, and the look in his eyes almost killed her then and there. He looked tired, almost defeated, black circles under his eyes brought on by what she thought might have been a night of insomnia, and his overall skin tone looked almost sickening. His hair was styled as usual, though it didn't seem as if he had dedicated as much time and care as he usually did to it. The same could be said for the stubble on his chin and jawline, which was noticeably thicker, growing past the point he personally deemed appropriate for a man of his ranking.
Overall he looked miserable, but with any luck most would associate it with the latest shipment of lyrium and his struggle to control the cravings for it, and not with what had also kept her awake last night, causing her to lower her guard and drink more than usual, praying the alcohol would suppress her feelings. It hadn't worked. She had remained awake for hours upon hours, the alcohol only making things worse when, mixed with her inevitable tiredness, the line began to blur between this reality and dreams. Her emotions were toyed with all night, making her feel almost as if Cullen was truly with her in bed, kissing and worshiping her, only to morph into a zealot a second later, trying to destroy her as he accused her of being a demon and maleficar.
Yes, she could see that the Commander had suffered a sleepless night, but the reason for it eluded her. Maybe the lyrium was the rightful culprit here, and what had happened between them had nothing to do with his state. Perhaps he felt guilty about his insomnia being a consequence of doubting her ability to direct the Inquisition, and he had stayed up planning how he could gain control before she also went berserk as the anchor had done. There was also the possibility that he had been fearful of the consequences of what he had thought was a justified defense against a serious threat to them, even when said threat had been the very person everyone followed. Or maybe he had been tortured as much as she had been, now feeling just as empty and desolate, his heart responding to her proximity the same way her own was, thrumming away in her chest as if it wanted to reach out to convince him that what they had was worth fighting for.
Whatever it was, she didn't want to linger on it. And for once fate seemed to be on her side, for the moment he stepped closer to the two women, looking from time to time at Josephine, whom seemed to be asking Evey something without much success, a fanfare coming from outside called their attention.
-The Prince is here!
Josephine nearly screamed, her eyes sparkling with badly concealed emotion. Then, she clapped her hands twice, looking all around her and talking loud enough for everyone in the room to hear her.
-Listen everyone! The Prince is here! You all know what to do, and do not let the Inquisitor down!
By the end of her announcement, Evelyn was already past the foyer and on the stone landing, slowly walking down the stairs as Cullen's eyes followed her every step.
If the inside of Skyhold had called her attention, the outside left her speechless, and this time she was sure that none of this had been here the night before when she walked, or rather, stumbled back to the main hall to get to her quarters beyond that.
The yard was filled with new stalls selling many varieties of sweets and beverages, from sweet tasting juices to strong, spicy wines, and they were covered in festoons in a spectrum of colors and shapes that reminded her of a Fereldan market during the harvest festivities. In fact, on first glance she counted three cheese stalls with such range of selection that she wondered if they were going to receive King Alistair instead of Prince Sebastian.
Her best horses were on exhibit too, and there was one in particular that called her attention: a powerful Amaranthine Percheron mare that had come four months ago all the way from those lands for breeding with her Free Marches Ranger in the hopes of creating a "new and mighty race worthy of the Inquisition", as Josephine had put it. For her, it was complete nonsense; her Free Marches Ranger was extremely high born with a lineage as long and grand as her own, and he was perfectly trained to bring pride to the Inquisition, but she had to admit that Josephine had touched a sensitive nerve with the idea of breeding their own horses. She had grown up in that environment, after all. Her father had taught her all about it, and the idea of having her cocky but marvelous Free Marches Ranger impregnate the most elegant and powerful mare she had seen in her life, had been something she could not refuse. The mare was now situated in the middle of her other horses, right next to Evey's spoiled four legged companion, her swollen belly on display and growing heavier with each passing day despite being only four months along, as if the foal was trying to follow its father's example by trying to supersede him in bragging rights.
On the floor of the entrance were scattered rose petals that she feared to ask from where they had come and how much they'd cost, paving the road for his Highness to make an entrance worthy of his title.
Breathing heavily and ironing imaginary wrinkles on her dress with her hands, Evey walked down the stairs that separated her from the first landing where Hawke and Varric were already waiting for her, followed closely by her three advisors, Leliana having joined Josephine and Cullen sometime while she was still admiring the courtyard's new look.
When she stood next to Hawke, the Champion peered at her from the corner of his eyes, grinning devilishly, and after a few seconds raised a hand to her temples, making her turn towards him with a puzzle look.
The healing magic was like a balm, spreading through her head and down her body, melting away all aches and, most importantly, the insistent headache, consequence of an ill advised night with the indulging mage. The moment the blue light touched her skin she felt at ease, sighing heavily with relief and opening her eyes again to look at Hawke as if he was sent by Andraste herself, blessing her with his holy touch.
She hummed, delighted, and smiled at Hawke.
-Maker, thank you!
-Now, now, don't rob me of all credit! The Maker had nothing to do with this; it was my magical touch.
He said it in a tone that somehow came off as suggestive. By now, Evelyn was familiar with Hawke's flirtatious nature, but that didn't mean she condoned it when it was directed toward her. Besides, Cullen was directly behind her. She could practically feel him glaring at the Champion, and even after what had happened between them, she was not one to indulge in casual flirting after a breakup so recent.
A voice inside told her it was not technically a breakup, and that hadn't allowed him to explain what had happened on his end, so therefore they were not actually separated.
Desperate to shut her thoughts down, she looked at Hawke with a mixture of sarcasm and perfectly believable enjoyment.
-Oh? Should I also grant you merit for last night's overindulgence?- The mage opened his eyes and appeared affronted.- Admit it, Hawke, you're only cleaning up your own mess here,- she added, pointing to her once sore head.
The alluded kept the indignant pose for another moment, only to fall again into his more coy and sarcastic facade a moment later.
-I never forced you to drink, your Worship, and it's not my fault you failed to notice whenever I refilled your glass.
Varric's laughter filled the stair
-He's got you there, Trevelyan!
She smiled at the two, trying hard to ignore Cullen's subtle grumble behind her, instead forcing herself to focus on the sound of hooves coming from the entrance.
Josephine then nudged her on the small of her back, silently indicating that she should by now be downstairs waiting for his Highness on the other side of the courtyard, at the end of the flower petal path. She did as she was bade, Hawke and Varric accompanying her.
With just a few seconds to spare, the six of them stepped to their assigned places before another horn announced Starkhaven's representatives entering the draw bridge, the bustle of hooves growing louder once the horses began trotting over the wood.
Each step made the knots in Evelyn's stomach tighten another notch, especially since Hawke and Varric had left her side to make room for Josephine and Leliana, allowing for Cullen to step behind her and consequently frazzle her nerves altogether at his proximity. Maker, she was almost certain she could feel his breath on her hair and his warmth reaching her exposed back, even through the thick metal layers of his armor. The sun did not help either; Cullen looming behind her meant that, so long as they stood in this position, she would be enveloped by his shadow. It was as if he was trying to draw her to him, or protect her in some way. This was definitively not helping her forget how good it had felt to let herself go in his arms, her face hidden in his torso while he kissed the top of her head, holding her as she hummed happily.
When the group passed by the drawbridge and officially entered Skyhold, the hoof sounds altered from the hollow and deep clicks on wood to the clack of the horses over the stone, and the Inquisition was regaled by the first glances of the Prince's retinue. Before Evelyn even bothered herself to try and recognize Sebastian Vael among them, she shook her head and sighed heavily, trying to dispel the haunting memory of Cullen's arms and soft kisses from her mind and heart, stepping instead into her role of Inquisitor and, furthermore, daughter of Noble House Trevelyan. Cullen's sudden intake of breath behind her did not make things any easier.
Trying vigorously to ignore her Commander, and even the idea that she still thought of him as "her Commander", her eyes began to search for the Prince amongst the group right at the same moment the first line of soldiers opened, leaving room for three horses to step ahead of the rest.
One of them was a familiar face, though she'd be lying if she said she had ever seen Knight Captain Rylen so excited in the five months she had known him. The former templar was speaking to the Prince with what Evey could only describe as a ridiculously huge grin, pointing toward several areas inside the keep and calling Sebastian's attention each time. As they entered the courtyard, though, Rylen's finger pointed directly at her, effectively taking her breath away at the suddenness of the gesture and the intense blue eyes that followed the Knight Captain's hand to rest upon her, those eyes not even caring that the enthusiastic man at his side was already trying to divert his attention to another place of interest. Sebastian, in turn, smiled at Evelyn when he noticed her looking back at him, nodding gently in greeting, almost as if they were long lost friends or had shared some unknown secret.
The moment was lost effectively when Josephine seized the mere half minute that it took him to reach them to whisper last minute advice.
-Don't talk first; it would be rude. Let him be the one to greet you.
Evelyn would have rolled her eyes if it weren't for the Prince deciding that he wanted her full attention, adamant against releasing her from his strong gaze. That left her with only the option of whispering back at Josephine without looking at her.
-He is not my Prince, you know.
-Please, Inquisitor, you did not object when I asked you the same with Empress Celine.
-I did object, you just didn't listen.
Behind her, Hawke snorted.
-He doesn't bite, Ambassador. On the contrary, actually: he is quite docile. Like a puppy with a fondness for bows... and Andraste's belt buckles.
-Hush,- was Josephine's answer to Hawke's borderline blasphemous commentary. And it was not a minute too soon, since the moment she shushed him, Prince Sebastian Vael was taking his first steps inside Skyhold's lands after gracefully hopping down from his horse.
The man was the epitome of a Prince, clad in a deep blue doublet, leather brown pants, and a traditional fly plaid in blacks and reds covering a great part of his chest and right shoulder, a pin holding it in place at heart's height that reminded her of the famous Andraste's belt buckle that Hawke insisted used to "guard Sebastian's modesty in a rather scandalous way". This rearrangement in the location of the holy prophet's representation was certainly an improvement, and it showed the Prince's devotion for the Maker's Bride in a much more moderate fashion. His hair was tousled, allegedly due to the journey up the mountain, and was surprisingly devoid of a circlet or crown, probably a way of showing his men that below his rank still laid a man, not different from any of them... Or at least that was her best guess, considering what Hawke had told her about Sebastian's personality. Overall, she had to admit the Prince looked amazing, and the fact that he wasn't wearing full armor displayed trust in his men along with his faith in the Maker to watch over his safety.
Unfortunately, Josephine's suggestion turned out to be for naught, and provided Hawke with something to laugh about for the next month, when the Prince stepped in front of Evelyn, bent his body nearly at a perfect right angle while bowing his head as well, one hand on his lower back and the other on his abdomen. The Inquisitor, though bowing in time with him, remained quiet while he watched her with a puzzled look. Finally, the former Brother of the Chantry seemed to realize what was going on and mercifully nodded once again while greeting the Inquisitor for the first time.
-My Lady Inquisitor, it in an honor to finally meet you.- His brogue and voice provoked more than one poorly veiled longing sigh from the women watching the scene. Evelyn, for her part, was grateful that the Prince had chosen such a greeting, leaving aside the usual adulations that characterized most noble men, and had her garnering far too many "I see the stories of your beauty do not do you justice" over the years each time her parents presented her to some highborn simpleton.
Instead, Sebastian gallantly took hold of her hand and, bending slightly, kissed it sweetly, glancing at her from below with a confident and amused look on his face. The fact that the Prince had chosen her left hand, where the anchor rested dormant below her glove, instead of the right one, did not go unnoticed to her.
Cursing the implicit rules of noble ranks all over Thedas, and Josephine's compulsion for following them, therefore causing the most embarrassing moment she had experienced in her life since the time Caleb hanged her first breast band in the soldiers' archery practice range on her father's estate, Evelyn donned her best smile and welcomed him.
-You Highness, the pleasure is ours. Welcome to Skyhold,- she said, bowing like the perfect lady she was, her hand still joined with his.
Sebastian lowered her hand, but did not release it quite yet, instead giving it a soft squeeze.
-Please, my Lady, I trust you will grant me the pleasure of calling me by my given name, and leave the formalities behind us.- Only then did he release her hand.
She was sorely tempted to look at Josephine upon this request, mainly because she knew that if she agreed, Evelyn would have to listen to her ambassador rant about it for as long as was deemed appropriate without offending his Highness, leaving him alone in another room while she berated the mighty Inquisitor like a toddler. And also because she was sure her ambassador was trying extremely hard not to choke on her own breath, if the sudden gasp she heard was any indication.
Instead of acquiescing to that, she decided to smile radiantly and even allowed herself to appear slightly bashful when she answered, though she lacked the ability of other noblewomen to blush on cue.
-I think that is a fantastic idea, Sebastian.
The Prince's smile grew at her bold enthusiasm at leaving all formalities aside. Inwardly, he rejoiced in the fact that Lady Trevelyan seemed as charming and accessible as all his informants had told him. Before he had time to analyze it further, though, the Inquisitor stepped to the side and began the required introductions.
-Allow me to present you to my advisors,- she said, gesturing a trained hand toward the woman who had been close to fainting mere seconds ago. -My Ambassador, Josephine Cherette Montilyet.
She paused for a moment, allowing Josephine to bow, hoping to keep moving afterwards, but was surprised to see Sebastian nod and take Josie's hand as well, kissing it as he had done with her own.
-Oh, yes, ambassador! It's nice to finally put a face to your kind letters. I owe you my thanks for arranging this stay. Surely it was divine providence that made us contact you once again.
Contrary to Evelyn, Josephine did indeed blush... a lot. Almost breaking character and accidentally letting an obvious giggle to slip past her lips for the ghost of a second.
-You need not mention it, your Highness. It is an honor to have you here with us. I trust your journey was pleasant?
Evelyn almost laughed at this. Josephine was talking as if the Prince had traveled sitting on a padded seat in a luxurious carriage instead of riding for hours through the mountainous terrain, an experience that, even if not downright unpleasant, was not precisely the most lavish of all the activities a Prince might indulge in.
Sebastian, of course, was a perfect gentleman, and answered in kind.
-The view was breathtaking, and the company of your soldiers who escorted us made the trip much more enjoyable.
When Sebastian ended his statement, Evelyn rushed to continue, lest Josephine answer back and they remained stuck here for hours making endless small talk, which they all knew the ambassador was fully capable of achieving.
-And this is our Spymaster, former Left Hand of the Divine, Sister Leliana,- she introduced the woman, who was kindly bowing to the Prince.
Leliana was not as meek as Josephine and skipped all protocol, talking first.
-We met briefly some years ago in Kirkwall, though I would not blame you if you didn't remember me.- Her smile was radiant, and still Sebastian answered with one that mirrored hers perfectly.
-Of course I do. You warned us about the peril Grand Cleric Elthina was in, for which I will always be in your debt.- He bowed once again, but for the first time since his arrival, Sebastian's smiled faded.
-I'm sorry I could not do more to save her.- Leliana's voice sounded truly moved, and Evelyn remembered that Hawke had told her how much Sebastian had loved Elthina, how he had mourned her greatly when Anders destroyed the Chantry with her still inside.
-Her Grace died protecting her flock. That is what she would have wanted… No matter how much it pained me to see her depart, she is now at the Maker's side.
They fell into a reverential silence, and after such a topic of discussion, Evelyn couldn't do anything but to respect that quiet moment of contemplation. She understood his pain, but through Hawke's tales, she had also come to see Anders' plight, and even though she would never condone his actions, she felt sorry for the mage then. The fact that the only advisor left to introduce was Cullen, who had been carefully watching the proceedings unfold in front of him, did not make this any easier, either.
After a moment, Sebastian glanced back at her again, wordlessly inviting her to continue with her introductions, his smile back in place and silently reassuring her that there was nothing wrong with circling back to the lighter mood they had abandoned before Elthina's memory.
-And… this is Cullen Stanton Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition Forces.- She could have easily added his former title of Knight Captain of Kirkwall, but she trusted that it wouldn't be necessary. If Sebastian had remembered Leliana, Cullen would certainly not be a stranger to him, either, since Hawke seemed to have had many dealings with the templars when the Prince was a member of his entourage. At the same time, she desperately didn't want to be the one to throw salt on the wound that was Kirkwall for Cullen. It would be inevitable with Hawke and their former association, but she didn't want to be the one to bring that up, knowing how much pain it brought the man.
-Yes, of course, I remember him well from my days in Kirkwall,- he said to Evelyn before turning to Cullen and clasping the other man's hand firmly. -It is good to see you in fine health, Commander.
Cullen bowed stiffly, the words the Prince chose not amusing him. Did Sebastian really not notice how diminished his pallor was this morning? Was he mocking him? Or had he said it in an attempt to sound friendly and educated? Either way it felt terrible, like he had swallowed a bitter potion that was doing nothing to soothe his pain, even adding to it. Still, he knew his place, so he saluted, bringing his heels together with his arms alongside his body in a perfect military gesture. Sebastian might not have been a soldier when they'd met, but he was now the head of a city state, and as such controlled an army, rendering him a similar rank to any other military superior Cullen could imagine.
Besides, to do anything but his best now would lead him to an unending speech about propriety and rank hierarchy from Josephine, and with the intense headache he was already nursing, he wanted to avoid that at any cost.
-Your Highness, welcome to Skyhold. I trust your men have found everything they need in the lands we assigned for them.- He briefly shot a glance toward Rylen as he spoke, to which the Knight Captain answered with a nod and a salute to his Commander, similar to how he'd just greeted Sebastian.
-Yes, thank you. Though they are eager to train with your men. They've been buzzing about it since we parted from Jader.
-I shall arrange it, then. I'm sure my men would be honored to train with yours.
Perhaps Cullen or Sebastian would have added something more, but Hawke's voice stopped them.
-Yes, yes, we are all very honored to bear witness to this, but I'm personally offended that you've been standing there for nearly a year now and you haven't even asked for me.- While joking with his old friend, he had rounded Cullen and was now standing a few feet ahead of him at Sebastian's side, looking at the Prince with a trace of delight beneath what was meant to be an affronted expression.- It's that kind of attitude that really grates on our annual group reunions, you know.
Sebastian's lilt let escape a sincere laugh, and he rushed to counter Hawke's quip.
-And here I thought it was your self imposed exile that had prevented all of us from meeting up again.- Hawke chuckled at this while Sebastian rushed to clasp his hand, drawing him closer to slap a hand across his back, the Champion doing likewise. When they drew apart, they kept squeezing each other's hands for another moment in the kind of greeting only good friends could exchange after a long absence. -It's great to see you again, Hawke, and you as well, Varric,- the Prince added, turning to clasp the dwarf's hand who had stepped over just after Hawke decided to make his presence known.
-Welcome, Choir Boy!- Once again, Josephine could barely suppress a shocked gasp at Varric's familiarity. With anyone else, the matter would have been left there, but Varric was not going to let it go that quickly. -Oh, relax, Ruffles! You'll burst a blood vessel if you keep worrying yourself like this.
Evelyn chuckled both at Varric's commentary and Josephine's scandalized glare, but still tried to give the poor woman a moment's peace, reacting as was expected of her. Before she could ask the Prince to follow her inside, though, a man at their back cleared his throat, trying to call their attention.
At this, Sebastian turned and raised a hand to open the way for the man.
-Forgive me, Adair.- Then he turned toward Evelyn and took her hand, gently pulling her one step closer to him and the newcomer. -Lady Inquisitor, allow me to introduce you to Adair Gallach, my personal Advisor and Ambassador of Starkhaven.
Evelyn had been fortunate enough to meet the former Arl of Redcliffe, Eamon Guerrin, while traveling to Denerim with the Chantry. It had been around three years since he had passed the arling to his brother, Teagan, and the man had left a marked impression on the Chantry committee, but for Evey, it has been a delight to meet him. He had the experience and wisdom of a man who had been in power, but the temperance and pensive demeanor of one who had left his duties in capable hands to pursue a life of contemplation, taking pleasure in the simple things in life such as his devotion to the Maker and his adoration for his wife and son, without losing sight of his duty toward his brother, the new arl, and of the people of Redcliffe and Denerim who allowed him to lead that life comfortably and in peace. Due to her position as a noble and servant of the Chantry, she had had the pleasure of exchanging more than one conversation with the man. His serenity and understanding nature had helped Evelyn during a difficult point in her life, where duty and affections pulled her in different directions, far away from her family for longer than a month for the first time in her young life, yet her obligations opposing the need to have them close again, leaving her heart a complete mess and threatening to render her entirely useless to the Grand Cleric and the Chantry itself. Even though they only shared a brief window of companionable time together, Eamon had helped her discover a sense of peace in that maelstrom that had become her life, calming her and pointing her in the right direction. It had been a few short exchanges, but even in those moments and under such circumstances, Eamon had provided her with the paternal advice and support she had needed, making him unforgettable, and the recipient of at least one letter a year, wishing him good health and letting him know that she would never forget how much he had helped her.
Seven years, and a world of experiences later, for the first time, someone else now struck her as a similar breed of man. Adair Gallach had Eamon's same serenity, and exuded wisdom with every move he made. He clearly treated Sebastian as a father would his youngest son, and he seemed sincerely attached to the Prince. He sported a heavy beard and calming blue eyes, several hues darker than the Prince's. His skin was also a few tones darker, and even though his attire was impeccably tailored, Evelyn could see the tan lines on his neck that suggested most of his coloring was due to long hours in the sun, though how a diplomat had been so exposed to the sunny weather outside a castle was beyond her.
Evelyn took to the man immediately, though life had taught her that appearances could be deceptive and, against her instincts, she reserved her opinion of Starkhaven's royal ambassador until she had the opportunity to get to know him a little better. Still, caution did not equal impertinence, so she nodded her head and offered her hand to the ambassador, donning her best smile. The man took the hand and kissed it gallantly as she greeted him.
-Ambassador Gallach, welcome to Skyhold. We are happy to have you all here.
If the man was going to add something, Josephine didn't give him the opportunity.
-Adair! Welcome! I am so delighted you decided to come instead of staying behind with your troupes.
Evelyn was mildly confused at this. How could the ambassador possibly stay behind when he was also Sebastian's counselor? Certainly something as important as the first meeting between Starkhaven and the Inquisition was not an unimportant event for the Prince, was it?
-I'll say it wasnae easy. Old habits die hard, but duty must rise above, ye ken. Besides, I trust Artair will do a fine job in the Commander's absence.
Now she was completely perplexed. What did all of this have to do with his role as ambassador and advisor to the Prince?
Luckily Sebastian was a keen observer, and noticed her uncertainty before she made a fool of herself.
-Adair was the previous Commander of my forces. He left Fenris in charge when he deemed he had nothing new to offer my troupes. Artair is his son, Fenris' current Captain,- he clarified near her ear, the Prince's velvety voice heavily charged by his brogue.
The explanation took her by complete surprise, and to top it off, Sebastian leaning over her shoulder, almost whispering in her ear, made her clench her teeth and blush furiously. Unfortunately, she was not able to stifle her flush before the Prince came around her again, rewarding her with a knowing, almost smug smile.
She took a small step to the side, returning the odd smile, but making sure to widen the gap between them. In the meantime, Josephine and Adair had been relentlessly battling to prove which one was better at making idle conversation, and both seemed quite enthusiastic in their endeavor. Of course, it was perfectly plausible that the man was only being polite, and was unable to deny Josephine when she was so obviously excited about their visit.
-Josephine, I hate to interrupt, but the gentlemen are probably exhausted from their trip. Might we take this inside and show them to their accommodations?
The Antivan looked ashamed and rushed to agree.
-Yes, of course! Forgive me, my lords. Please, come right this way!