Have some fluff.

On the Battlements

I closed my eyes, savoring Loranil's voice as he sang the verse to Falon'Din, begging the god to turn his thoughts to the spirits wandering the Beyond, in spite of his inability to reach any of them. In the background, the Sing-quisition hummed a low harmony. I hadn't realized that Harding had asked him to participate as a soloist, but I was glad that she had, and that he had agreed. Not only was his voice beautiful, it was nice to hear the words pronounced correctly. There was only so much that singers who didn't know the language could learn in a day and a half, and melody was much more important than word pronunciation in this context.

Really, everyone in the Inquisition had put in far more effort to include the beliefs and traditions of my people than I had dared hope. I doubted it was what Hawen had had in mind when he sent Loranil with me, but the hunter had been indispensable, happily coordinating with both Josephine and Harding to ensure our culture was represented fairly while I was tied up with all the mundane tasks that had piled up during my absence from Skyhold.

In the courtyard below, there was a low - almost reverent - murmur of voices as mages circulated to light candles, and people readied their lanterns for release. I couldn't see all of it from my vantage point before the doors into the great hall, but I could see the mage auras and the sparks of fire they called, and if I listened closely I could hear the rustling of paper under the quiet hum of voices coordinating with each other.

A hand touched my arm and I turned, finding Josephine behind me with a lantern and candle. I was supposed to release mine first, signaling to everyone else to do the same. "I assumed you could light your own candle, though it's now occurring to me that I should have asked."

I gave her a reassuring smile. "Fire may be my worst element, but I can certainly handle candle-lighting." I had already made my speech about remembering those who had given their lives to protect the world, just before Cullen had read out all the names of the fallen. Then all of us - my advisors and I - had solemnly visited every candle that had been placed in the courtyard, one for each fallen soldier, laying a small wreath of evergreen and silk flowers (it was too early in the year for real ones at this elevation) before them. We had taken a few moments to speak with anyone engaged in praying for or remembering one of the people who had died, and there had been a great deal of reminiscing with both tears and laughter all across the courtyard. This, in contrast, was a moment of quiet contemplation for each of us to send our prayers to whatever deities we believed in. For those of us who didn't strictly believe in deities, or at least deities with any discernible power…well, perhaps we could simply let the lanterns carry our hope.

I lit my candle and placed it carefully inside the lantern, then released it. Behind me, my advisors released theirs, as well, and like a wave it swept down to the courtyard. I couldn't see the lanterns clearly for very long, but I could see their light against the night sky. It was strange - I had never really seen the stars. I couldn't in the waking world, and the sky of the Fade always reflected the shimmering green of the Veil. I wondered if the lanterns were what stars looked like to people who could see normally.

We watched the lanterns for many long minutes as the Sing-quisition hummed a song I didn't recognize. At the end of it, Josephine let everyone know there was food in the great hall, as well as in the mess below, and invited them to eat and enjoy themselves.

I suspected that I was supposed to circulate, but I thought I had caught a glimpse of Varric's bright tunic when I had visited Hawke's candle, even though he hadn't come to speak with any of us. Chances were high, I thought, that he would be at her candle now - now that everyone was otherwise occupied - and I hoped he wouldn't shy away from me if I came alone.

Not that Varric was alone when I found him. I had been wrong to suppose that everyone was otherwise occupied. Hawke's candle had been placed close to those for Felix and Wisdom, and I found Solas, Dorian, and Varric all stretched out atop the battlements, sharing a bottle of Dorian's wine and a platter of food that one of them must have wheedled from the kitchen. "Ah, Inana," Dorian called when he caught sight of me, "just the person we were missing. No extra cups, I'm afraid - you'll have to share with Solas."

Solas snorted at being volunteered, but leaned into me subtly when I settled next to him, and offered his wine. I felt myself blush a little as I accepted the cup. Someone - probably Josephine - and coaxed him into wearing a beautifully tailored, high-collared black coat that accented his his lean frame, pale skin and eyes, and drew attention to the sharp line of his jaw. I quickly took a drink, hoping to hide the warmth in my cheeks, made an involuntary sound of surprised pleasure, and took another swallow before handing the cup back to him.

"Make sure you eat something, too," Varric told me, indicating the platter. "I saw the pile of papers on Ruffles' desk when we arrived back - I'm guessing you skipped lunch."

"Not entirely." I had begged a piece of bread and an apple on my way down to show Josephine the little speech I had written to precede Cullen's reading of names. That was at least three hours ago, now, and hadn't been a proper meal to begin with, though, so I happily took in one hand a toasted slice of bread spread with something that looked creamy, topped with smoked fish and fresh dill, and a mushroom stuffed with meat, herbs, and cheese in the other.

Both looked - and smelled - delicious, but I paused and looked at the dwarf. "Varric - " I began.

"Eat, Vanish," he ordered, and I obeyed as he went on. "I already know what you're thinking. I'm sorry for not being…" he gestured broadly, "...you know, around."

I finished chewing the bite I had taken and swallowed. "I'm not upset or anything, just a little worried."

"Well, I had a letter waiting from Fenris," he sighed. "I expected…honestly, I expected him to be angry - at me, at you, at Hawke, but probably not admitting it about Hawke. I tried to make it clear how close you came to killing yourself in an attempt to get her back, but Fenris…isn't always the most reasonable guy. When things go wrong, he kinda has two defaults: destroying whoever wronged him…or destroying himself."

"You're worried he's gone with destroying himself?" I guessed, reading between the lines.

"He sounds…really angry at Hawke, and she's not exactly available, so…yeah," Varric agreed with an unhappy laugh. "I'll admit, I spent a full day just drowning in it, but then I had to think, and I think better in this kind of situation with a drink at my elbow."

"What are you going to do?" I asked.

"What haven't I done?" he replied. "Nightingale practically sent out an entire flock of ravens on my behalf. Asked Aveline to send Donnic around the Hanged Man and the other Lowtown bars to keep an eye out for him - and take him home if he looked like he needed it. Asked Isabela to stop bleeding people dry for a few months and come commiserate with him over not getting to sleep with Hawke again, maybe hit on him a little - he's better at living when he's pissed off. Asked Merrill to hang around more - she'll manage to piss him off just being within the same room. Asked Bethany to write - they're both hurting. Even asked Sebastian to figure out some kind of…relocation or rehabilitation shit for escaped elven slaves from Tevinter. Promised to pay for it if he found a way to rope Fenris in."

"You called in the cavalry," I observed. "Can the rest of us - or the Inquisition - do anything?"

He was quiet for a moment, staring at me in what looked like it was probably surprise, even if it was just slightly blurred with distance, and then gave a short, disbelieving laugh. "What do you call this?" he asked, his broad gesture taking in the candles and courtyard.

"I meant for you, specifically, or for Fenris," I replied.

"Vanish, what you planned for tonight - this was for all of us, specifically."

"I believe what the dwarf is saying," Dorian put in, apparently having been left out of the conversation for too long, "is that it's a comfort to remember we have all suffered similar kinds of loss in the midst of this mess. None of this communal grieving makes it hurt less, but it does feel more…survivable."

"Good," I said, watching as Dorian filled all their cups again - and then thrust the rest of the bottle of wine towards me.

"A toast," he said as my hand closed uncertainly around the glass, "to the lives and friendships of those we have lost," he paused as his eyes rested meaningfully on each of us, "and to those who continue to make the world worth saving."

"Ad bonam valetudinem," Dorian said at the same time Varric agreed: "I'll drink to that." Together, Solas and I added, "Enaste," and shared a mildly surprised, somewhat amused glance, neither of us apparently expecting to have that particular response in common. Then we all drank.

The night was getting cold now - winter clung to the mountains, and even the wards embracing Skyhold couldn't hold it entirely at bay - but sips of wine began to warm me, and settling more firmly against Solas's side warmed me further. Solas leaned against a nearby merlon, and, giving up all pretense of discretion, wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

"You're looking awfully smug there, Chuckles," Varric commented.

"Such comments might lead one to believe you jealous, Master Tethras," Solas responded lightly, though his arm tightened almost imperceptibly.

"Jealous? No," Varric said with a laugh. "Envious, maybe."

I opened my mouth to ask what he meant, but Dorian spoke first: "Of course he's smug - look at her. Inquisitor. Herald. Beautiful. Effortlessly charming. Half of Thedas is in love with her!"

I gave a sharp bark of disbelieving laughter. "That is categorically untrue!"

"She's right, Sparkler. It's not half of all Thedas - it's only half of the people who have actually seen her. And most of them are just infatuated."

"That's also untrue, and you really haven't scaled down the exaggeration that much," I insisted.

"Well…probably," Varric allowed. "But even though it's a lie, it's a true lie."

"Truer than any mere fact, certainly," Dorian agreed. I didn't even know where to start with that load of meaningless halla shit, and Dorian spoke again before I could find a sufficiently strong protest. "It's obvious why he ," the other mage gestured toward Solas, "is with you. If you were to develop an interest in me, I would have to think long and hard before remembering I'm not actually attracted to you."

"No, you wouldn't," I interjected.

"Well, no - but only because I'm remarkably self-aware," he replied smoothly. "What I cannot begin to fathom is how you developed an interest in him."

I took a drink of wine, trying to decide what I wanted to say, since I knew several things I definitely didn't want to say. "He's very good in bed," I offered, realizing even as I said it that I would be embarrassed in the morning - I blamed the wine for my lack of concern in the moment.

Solas choked slightly while the other two laughed. "I already knew that - or assumed it, anyway," Dorian insisted. "How else could a man dress as he does and still manage enough confidence to be a condescending bastard to everyone he meets? But I assume you were fond of him before you bedded him, yes?"

My brow furrowed, but the wind suddenly died enough for me to hear an odd sound - the sound of a pencil scratching on paper. I squinted toward Varric. "Are you writing this entire conversation down?" I demanded.

"Of course not," he waved me away. "I'm making notes so I don't forget key details. I'll reconstruct it later - with whatever changes are necessary to capture all the," he gestured, "emotions and shit in print on a page."

"Varric!" I protested.

"Oh, fine," he sighed, and the brighter rectangle that was his notepad disappeared. "But if this conversation comes out all wrong in the book, you have only yourself to blame."

"Well?" Dorian prompted me as I silently hoped that chiding Varric had ended this particular conversation. "Solas, I'm not certain she wants to say what she likes about you," he added as I continued to hesitate.

I glanced up at Solas, but the little smirk he wore was ruthless. "I confess that I am curious, as well," he said mildly, but there was a sharp sort of interest in his gaze.

"Tuelanen lanastaan," I muttered. "You can't really be serious, Dorian. You, of all people, should be aware how utterly brilliant he is. And even if he isn't to your taste in terms of appearance, surely you can agree that he is…striking."

"Ah, yes, his choice of dress does assault my eyes daily," Dorian replied lightly. "Truly, I don't know how you can see past it long enough to notice anything else about him."

"I don't know, Sparkler," Varric put in, "the shiny bald head is very visible when it's sunny."

"Dorian, I'm half blind," I reminded him, rolling my eyes. "Besides when my fingers or buttons snag on an unraveling thread because he's terrible at hemming things," I gave Solas a nudge with my shoulder, "it honestly doesn't occur to me to look at what he's wearing most of the time." That was only half true, probably - I was very aware of what he was wearing tonight, likely because of how different it was, though being at Skyhold, where I could see beyond the tips of my fingers, helped.

But the minor lie seemed to appease Dorian, who threw his head back and laughed. "I take it all back - the two you are clearly a match arranged by the Maker himself. Or your Creators," he corrected quickly, "or whoever it is who arranges for traditionally-minded elves to fall in love. It would require someone half-blind to look past his wardrobe."

"Given how loud your own wardrobe is, it amazes me that Iron Bull manages to hear anything you say," Solas returned mildly.

The pale rectangle of Varric's notebook reappeared as Dorian dissolved into laughter again. "Sorry, Vanish. That exchange is begging to be written down."

Solas looked smug.

Tuelanen lanastaan: Creators have mercy