The Remnants of War Linger Int The Air
Summery: Dune and Cassandra struggle to find common ground while Varric watches the garbage fire from afar.
Dune was back in her cabin curled up under her desk, arms wrapped around legs with her face buried in knees. Tears were silently seeping into her hose as she took in laboured breaths. It had made sense at the time to agree, to demand to be informed and to stay but now. She missed her clan, she missed her home and she was afraid. She wanted to be spending her time darting through the Planasene's Forest, chasing after wild goats. She longed for the sight of the Green Dale's dragons dancing in the sun as they reunited after years of migration. She hadn't seen her sister in who knows how long and Dhea was often on her mind. The young First was learning quickly and getting close to surpassing the single-minded Deshy. The elf sobbed as she remembered her sister comforting her after Asha had dismissed her proposal claiming that they could never be truly bonded. The speech Dhea had given that promised once she was Keeper things would change, allowing for anyone to marry without risking exile brought Dune back from the brink. Little San had been overjoyed by the news, the boy had a crush on a caravan runner's son, he had spent all the next day weaving flower crowns and singing songs of cherished love, the number of feathers braided into his hair increasing with each passing candle mark.
She wondered what had happened to them, to her family and was rewarded for her efforts as a familiar ache filled her head. If she tried to remember the recent past a stabbing pain would work its way into her skull and nestle itself right behind her eyes. Another shudder shook the small elf's frame as she tried to suppress her inner turmoil. Though before Dune could sink farther into her melancholic thoughts a loud squawk sounded from over by the window, she jumped accidentally smashing the top of her head into the underside of the desk. Dune cursed as she ducked out of her makeshift cave, hand tangled in her hair as she tried to sooth the newly forming bump, and spotted a relatively large cage placed on the floor next to a bookshelf. She crawled from beneath her shelter and approached the tiny prison, a bundle of feathers was perched on a small swing hanging from the structure's roof. The clump twitched and shifted revealing a relatively ratty looking raven, it croaked at her and Dune couldn't help but smile as she wiped away still wet tears.
"Hey buddy," she cooed. "When did yeah get here?" Dune could have sworn that there wasn't a cage in her room when she had returned, though to be fair she had been in quite the rush. Darting through alleys and slipping into her window only to chuck the Spymasters' provided correspondence at her desk. The elf had managed to grab a quilt from her bed and climb beneath the table before breaking down.
She unlocked the cage, the bird stared at her briefly before hopping forward and fluttering to the ground outside its enclosure. It looked up at her with little black eyes before puffing out it's chest and croaking once more, Dune chuckled.
"You're like me," she said while holding out her arm for the bird to perch. "A little rusty but still good, yeah?" The bird squawked in agreement as it settled on Dune's forearm. She scratched the creature's head and it affectionately nibbled at her fingers. "You need a name," she stated as the bird continued to preen her. "How about Da'Mis?" The bird pecked at her hand and she chuckled. "I know not great, but Little Blade suits you and besides," she scratched the bird's chin once more and it cooed in response. "Then I can call you Damn and no one will know why." The bird chattered before fluttering up to her shoulder and nestling into her scarf, "I'll take that as a yes?"
Dune stood, fully intent on getting through some of the Nightingale's letters before having to depart for the Hinterlands, though as she glanced around the shack something seemed off. Her sword was absent once again, Dune made sure to search the cabin high and low before cursing out the elven Mage and stalking off towards his domain. She bet that the irritating man had expected her to come storming into his shack, though she doubted that even he could have predicted a very large raven bursting through the window and heading straight for his eyes.
The Seeker had just finished securing a hastily made sheath to her war horse's saddle, it was not pretty but it should hold the Herald's blade for a time. Cassandra tugged on the strap once more and gave the makeshift scabbard itself a good pull, her massive black stallion snorted and dug at the ground with a hoof.
"Sorry," she mumbled before rubbing the stead's neck with her free hand.
"Do you believe that thing will last?" Leliana asked.
"If it does not, I have no doubt that the Herald will insist on walking."
"Probably," the Seeker could hear the smirk in her friend's voice. "I take it that she's riding with you?"
"Most likely," Cassandra sighed as rubbed her face. "I am her bodyguard, after all."
"As much as you dislike being so," the Spymaster stated as she placed a gloved hand onto Cassandra's back. "You were the best candidate."
"I know I just," the Seeker turned and looked down at her friend. "She despises me."
"Are you so sure? Last I checked hatred tended to prevent people from defending one another."
"What are you-"
"Remember Rodrick? Because I do," Leliana's smirk grew. "If I recall correctly, a relatively agitated woman threw herself at the Chancellor simply because he had the nerve to insult, 'one of the best warriors' she had ever seen."
"I had forgotten," the image of the snarling elf trying to climb across a table at a terrified bureaucrat flashed to the forefront of her mind. "Maybe there is some hope-"
Their conversation was cut short by a loud succession of shouts. Cassandra and the Sister shot each other a look before making their way back into Haven proper. It did not take them long to find a large crowd of people gathered just past the tavern. The Seeker began to push through the mass, as the Leliana vanished, and could just make out some of the argument over the bystander's mutterings.
"Ma banal las halamshir mar vhen," cried the voice of a familiar Mage. "Ma eolasa tel'din Sal'ha ma ema esha'lin."
"I'm the fucking child?" Came the angry reply of none other than the Herald, "yet you're the one who refuses to argue in a way that allows for witnesses."
"Shemlen i telithal-"
"I don't see no blind, coward-"
"What is going on here?" Casandra demanded as she finally shouldered enough people out of the way to arrive at the gathering's centre. Dune and Solas stood before her, close to ten paces between them. The Herald's massive blade was embedded into the ground at her feet, hands arms and shoulders were being slowly entangled in serpent-like bramble, an agitated raven resting on a post next to her emitting an off-putting choking sound. The small warrior herself appeared to no worse for wear, as for Solas he was covered in mostly shallow scratches and holding a hand over his right eye. Both elves had their ears drawn back and turned to face her upon arrival "Well?"
"He started it," Dune said while glaring at the other elf. "He stole my blade-"
"How can I steal something that does not belong to you?"
"Ok then smart guy, if it ain't mine then whose?"
"Dar'misaan Uralas!"
"Dead men don't need no fucking blades."
"That is not for you to decide-"
"What's that suppose to mean?"
"You ignore the past," Solas cried while raising an accusatory finger. "You pretend that the Empire of old never existed and you bare markings that you do not understand!"
"I don't 'ignore the past'," Dune stated calmly. "I just don't dwell on it. Yes, elves once had a kingdom, but that hasn't been the state of things for a very long time. As for my vallaslin, I think I know more about the markings on my body than yeah ever could."
"That is presumptuous-"
"Is it? Then what do they mean oh great and knowledgeable master of existence."
"That is not for me to say."
"Really," Dune raised a brow. "So you steal my belongings and then when I ask for an explanation, which I'm very much in my right to do, you flat out refuse?"
"The truth is not for ones who do not listen."
"But I'm standing here ready to listen. You're the one who's denying me the supposed truth."
"You lie," Solas snarled. "All you care about is proving that you are something you could never be! You wish to be shem!"
"And yeah wish to be a denizen of the Creators, and are driven mad by the concept of someone disagreeing with your single-minded viewpoint."
"That is not-"
"Enough," Cassandra stepped between the two feuding elves. "You are doing nothing but talking in circles. Go finish packing. Both. Of. You. We leave in a candle mark." The muttering began to recede as the crowd started to disperse, Dune marched off in the direction of her cabin, sword over one shoulder and bird perched on the other. Solas frowned before making his way to the Healers Hut, Leliana slipping past him through the shadows. The Seeker sighed, this was going to be a long trip.
For two days the tension in their travelling party was almost suffocating at the best of times, though thankfully Dune had not complained when told to ride with Cassandra and the Seeker found herself thanking the Maker for small miracles. The Herald was quiet, more so than she had ever been around the taller warrior. Even when the elf had shown caution towards Cassandra she had still kept up conversation with the dwarf, but now the small warrior sat in front of her as they rode in silence. The Seeker had much preferred the other woman's quick tongue and bitter attitude to this ever-present nothing, she had debated asking Dune multiple times why she was refusing to speak, but could not find a way to safely approach the topic.
Solas and the Herald avoided one another like the plague and the first night at camp was almost comical, with Dune plopping herself down on a stone located by the tents and the Mage setting up shop by the cooking pot. Neither acknowledging the other's presence. Varric had shot Cassandra a concerned look and she shrugged in response, what exactly was she supposed to do? Scold them? They were allowed to dislike each other and nothing she said would change that. In fact, she believed that broaching the topic would only make things worse. Eventually, the stalemate between her elven comrades had worn her down and she retired for the evening with the dwarf volunteering to take first watch.
The Seeker had managed to finish caring for her equipment and tucking beneath her bedroll's thin sheets before Dune entered. She tried to ignore her companion as the woman stripped out of the leather tunic, a thick black high collard jumper laid beneath a good choice for descending the mountain. Cassandra glanced away from the Herald and forced her eyes upon the book in hand, Tales of The Broken Hearted, a lovely read if one was not afraid to peruse the stories of unrequited, cursed or failed love. She adjusted her pillow before raising the book above her head, finally settling in. The soft creak of the Herald oiling leather and eventual light grind of a wet stone against the warrior's blade helped ease some of the tension that had gathered between her shoulders. It was not long before Cassandra found her eyes drifting over the same sentence and her arms slowly descending from their position above her head to hovering across her stomach. She was about to call it a night and made to dog-ear one of the pages, only for a blue white and black feather to drift into her view.
"Don't fold the pages," it was the first thing Dune had said since leaving Haven. "They'll wear out and snap off," Cassandra mumbled her thanks before grabbing the feather and inspecting it, she ran a finger along the plumage causing it to ruffle. She placed it between her pages and closed her book before turning over onto her side.
"Good night, Herald," there was a sigh and a pause from her tent-mate.
"May the Fade treat yeah kindly," replied the elf, raspy tone oddly comforting.
The next day was back to silence, though Cassandra felt less tension from the elves as they finished their trek down the mountains and travelled towards open fields. Varric must have noticed the slight shift as well as he had become far more talkative. He chatted ideally, occasionally bringing up someone's name as if to assure that he was not speaking to just himself. The Seeker would grunt when addressed and the Herald let out the occasional chuckle, the Mage remained quiet. That night at camp Dune no longer hid in one corner while Solas lurked in the other, she travelled to and fro occasionally weaving feathers into messy hair some red and black though most blue. When it was time for first watch the Herald sat down and began tending to her gear with a smile and a promise to wake the Seeker in four candle marks oh so. Cassandra had chosen then to retire, though she found it much harder to drift off without the presence of another. The Seeker scowled, travelling with Leliana and sharing a room with both her friend and the Ambassador had spoiled her, now she was having trouble sleeping when on her own. She eventually slammed her book shut and fell into a rather fitful sleep. Rising way to soon, she spent her own watch exhausted. The Seeker was so tired the next day that when Dune had asked her a question she needed it to be repeated three times before she could muster a response.
"How far are the Hinterlands?"
"From this point? Usually two days but," The Seeker gestured to the white mare carrying the dwarf and Mage. "Estelle is not designed for such hard labour, so we will need to rest more frequently, making it closer to three."
"Estelle?"
"It means star," The Herald scrunched up her face. "Don't look at me like that, she's Leliana's stead."
"I'm riding Nightingale's horse?"
"Whose horse did you think it was?"
"I don't know Seeker, but defiantly not the most terrifying woman's... no person's in Haven," Varric said as Solas' ears drooped back while he seemingly loosened his grip on the reigns.
"The Inquisition has very few mounts meant for long distance riding and most were already commandeered by Leliana's scouts."
"If that's the Sister's horse," Dune asked. "Who's this one? Cullen's?"
"No," Cassandra snorted. "He is mine."
"Really? What's his name?"
"He does not have one."
"What? Why not?"
"No point in getting attached, we are at war and someone else will need him eventually."
"Oh..." Dune frowned and undoubtedly would have drifted back into silence if not for Varric's influence, the two began to chat and sling friendly insults at one another. Even the Mage's scowl lessened.
That night at camp when Cassandra was reading her book and the Herald came in later, cheeks flushed from wine the dwarf had shared, she realized that being more open with the elf might actually get her somewhere.
"Caspar."
"What?"
"Caspar," Cassandra lowered her book and glanced over at her tent-mate. "That is his name." Dune's brow forwarded before shooting into her mane.
"Oh!"
"What about you?"
"I don't have a horse."
"True, but you do have a bird."
"Fair enough," Dune paused for a moment before going back to oiling her leathers. "Damn."
"Damn?"
"Yeah, Damn and Dune." Cassandra chuckled, before returning to her book. The next three days passed like that the two making polite conversation before retiring, the Herald and Varric messing with each other while on the road. It felt peaceful and the Seeker found herself almost forgetting that there was a war, at least that was until she overstepped.
Dune was regretting her life choices as she cut down rogue Templar number four, her blade passing through limbs and torso easily. You'd think that the knife wielders would have left her alone after the first three tried to use a warrior's assumed slowness to their advantage, only to be cut to pieces in seconds. Dune blew hair out of her face, pulled her hand from a nest of wooden snakes and dragged her arm across her forehead smearing blood and dirt in the process. A bolt of ice whizzed towards her only to be shattered against a heavy shield as the Seeker stepped between her and a Mage's spell.
"Pay attention," the older woman spat before charging forward. Slamming into the attacker shield first and flinging them a good six feet. Dune curled her lip and charged back into the fray slicing through mercenaries that were trying their hand at surrounding Varric. Shit had gone back to tense between her and Cassandra relatively quickly, it started innocent enough with tiny questions about certain things only to get far too personal. Dune cringed as she thrust her blade into a man's stomach, effectively gutting him. There had been a fight, it was loud as the two screamed at one another about courtesy and secrets. The Seeker stating that she did not wish to speak of her own family, but constantly demanding that Dune do so. It wasn't until Varric stepped in and pointed out the fairness, or lack thereof, that Cassandra had finally left well enough alone. Dune cut another three down before pausing to asses who else needed her help. This whole trip had been uncomfortable from the start, things kicked off with a fight between her and Solas only to move to her having to ride in front of the Seeker as her arms couldn't find a secure enough hand-hold on the other woman's armour, then there was her recent argument with the taller warrior. Mother Giselle refusing to call her anything but the Herald of Andraste, getting dirty looks from both Cassandra and Solas as she ignored the people at the Cross Road's pleas for help and finally trudging through a mud-soaked and corpse-littered battlefield in order to make it to the Horse Master's farm. Dune ducked forward and ran the last enemy threw from behind, the man died before he even knew what had hit him.
"Is... everyone... alright...?"
"I appear no worse for ware-"
"I, am fine."
"Yeah, thanks to you Jay-bird, I thought I was nug shit when the merc's decided to focus on me."
"I'm... surprised... that they... even noticed yeah..."
"I am an extraordinary rogue."
"Yeah got... extraordinary... right..." Dune hefted her blade and shot him a grin. "Extraordinarily... short..."
"Oh someone thinks their funny."
"I don't... think-"
"That tracks." She glared at the rogue and stuck out her tongue as he laughed, the Seeker marched passed, face stern and strides purposeful. Dune rolled her eyes, enticing another series of chuckles from Varric, before following.
Dune let out a gasp when pain flared from her spine as a living embodiment of sadness threw her against the stony river bank. Her head hit the ground with a thud and her vision blurred as she tried to push herself into a sitting position, she felt bile rise in her throat as wounded hands tried to find a perch. She slipped, on blood or water, she couldn't tell and fell forward with a gasp. She managed to roll onto her back and her vision went black for a moment. When she raised her hand to the blurry green shape that was the Rift, her arm jolted as a stringy jet of unstable magic connected her and the dimensional hole together. All Dune could do was groan as she tugged the tear closed. She collapsed back and her head rolled to the side.
"Oh shit," Varric exclaimed. "Chuckles get over here."
"I am currently occupied," there was splashing and what sounded like something heavy and metal being slowly dragged across stone.
"Shit the Seeker... shit this is bad," Dune moaned as Varric moved her off the bank and draped her arm over his shoulder. "Andraste's ass you're heavier than you look Jay-bird."
"Camp is not far, we should be able to get back without any interference." The last thing that Dune heard was Varric saying something about wolves and Solas dismissing his point before fully falling unconscious.
She managed to come too before Solas could get his hands on her throat, she slapped his fingers away and sat up with a groan.
"You are not fully healed-"
"Last I fucking checked, the Despair Demon didn't grab me by the neck."
"I was just-"
"Save it," she snapped. "I don't have patience for your lies, hand me a potion." The mage frowned, but did as he was told, Dune glared at him until he left before throwing her head back and downing the flask's contents. She grimaced at the liquid's off-putting stale flavour and set the empty vial down just before the convulsions began. Her spine twisted, back arching and arms snapping out at odd angels while her bruised ribs and broken bones fused themselves back together. She screwed her eyes shut and bared her teeth as her throat began to burn, the unfix-able flesh pulsating with a confused heat, the potion desperately trying to force a mending that would not take. Dune hunched forward and wrapped her hands around her neck. The pain would pass soon, health potions were quick to take effect just straining as the user felt all of the healing process in one go. Her hands fell to her knees and she gasped for breath the burn receding. Sweat clung to her skin making her shiver, the tent flap was pulled back and Dune met the Seeker's gaze.
"I see that you chose to take a potion," Casandra stated as she made her way into their shared tent. "I did as well, we cannot afford for our only Mage to be out of commission." The Seeker sat down on the tent's other bedroll and offered Dune a drink from her waterskin.
"Wasn't gonna... let him lay his... hands on me," she stated before snatching the offered canteen and chugging half of it in a desperate attempt to soothe her throat. "Damn..." Dune coughed.
"Potions are not very pleasant."
"Yeah can say that... again," she passed the water-skin back. "I much prefer... spiritual, but... yeah know..." she shrugged.
"C'est la vie."
"What?"
"It's an Orlesian saying," Cassandra blushed slightly and scratched the back of her head. "it roughly translates to 'that's life'..."
"Hmm," Dune cracked her back and rolled her shoulders. "Why are yeah here... Cassandra?"
"I," the Seeker sighed. "Wanted to apologize for earlier. Varric was right, how I was behaving was both disrespectful and inappropriate." She glanced at the elf, "I need to remember that you joined the Inquisition willingly and what secrets you choose to keep, are yours, to begin with."
"Thanks," Dune pause and looked away, tugging at her hair. "I should... apologize too-"
"You don't-"
"No, I do," she sighed. "You mentioning... that you didn't... wanna talk about your... brother should've been... warning enough but... I choose to attack the... man's integrity... I'm sorry that... was... really fucked up..."
"It was." The two sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment before Cassandra held out her hand.
"Truce?"
"Truce, after all... we don't wanna make... this bodyguard... thing more awkward... then it needs be..."
"To be fair, if you were not so reckless Leliana would have never have suggested it."
"When have I... ever," Dune demanded handheld to her chest in mock scandal. "Been reckless."
"You just... I," the Seeker glared at her. "Not two candle marks ago you leapt onto the back of a bear!"
"It was attacking Solas-"
"You don't even like Solas!"
"What would make yeah... say that?"
"Yesterday you spit in his tea!"
"That was friendly spit!"
"As supposed to what?"
"Non-friendly spit?"
"Non-friendly?"
"Yeah, the opposite of friend."
"Do you mean enemy?"
"No, I know what I meant... and it was non-friend," the two stared at one another before breaking out in matching grins and bursting out laughing. Outside their tent, a Storyteller smiled while a lone wolf dumped out the rest of his tea.
Varric wondered how Jay-Bird was still going, she had snuck back into camp very late the previous night with dirt and dried blood clinging to her hands. The woman had half-heatedly scrubbed her arms clean before stumbling into her shared tent. Lucky for her, even sleep deprived, Dune was somewhat stealthy so she didn't wake the Seeker upon entry.
Speaking of his former captor, the woman had them all up at the crack of dawn to deal with a Rift on the edge of the farmstead, though this one had been admittedly easier than the last by the waterfall. A few terrors here a shade there nothing to worry about. The conversation with Dennet after was short and blunt and he could tell that Jay liked the guy already. He gave them his reasons for not sending a hundred horses through a war zone and told them what he needed prior to being able to aide the Inquisition. Though he had been able to gift the party with two more mounts a pony, which Varric was incredibly grateful for as he could actually get on the sodding thing without needing a step ladder, and one of his finest steads for the Herald of Andraste herself. Which Dennet, and everyone else in the farm, had then spent the past few candle marks watching Dune fall off of over and over again.
There was a shout, a yelp and a thud. The Storyteller glanced over to behold the aftermath of Dune's twentieth failed attempt at mounting. Jay-Bird was struggling to get back to her feet as the Seeker shook her head and covered her face. Those two had been at it since noon, changed into once-clean riding gear that was now coated in a layer of dust as the elf's bodyguard tried to teach her how to ride. His laugh caused them both to send him a glare, Dune scooped up a stone and tossed it in his direction. Though her throw went wide after the horse, whom she had been attempting to ride, butted his head into her back and shoved her face first into the dirt. Even Chuckles smirked when the dragonslayer grabbed Jay's collar and yanked her back to her feet.
"I told you," the taller woman began. "You must mount from the left side, not the right."
"We mounted from the right back at Haven."
"No, I mounted from the right and lifted you into the saddle. You wanted to learn I offered to teach, so watch and listen." Dune huffed and crossed her arms as the Seeker clicked her tongue and called over the war horse that had been grazing by the fence. The dragonslayer grabbed the beast's reins as he came to her and looked over at her student expectantly. Jay-bird copied the action with her own stead, the Seeker then mounted once more and took the black beauty into a canter around the small training area. Jay copied the other woman's movements and placed her foot into the stirrup, it looked like she was gonna actually make it this time, at least she would have if her horse hadn't moved before the elf could swing over. It took off after the Seeker's stead at a leisurely pace, but the movement was all it needed to throw Jay off balance. Her foot got caught in the stirrup as she fell back and was promptly dragged behind her horse. The Seeker spotted what had happened immediately, dismounted and grabbed Dune's stead by the reins effectively stopping it and giving the earthbound woman a chance to escape. Once freed Jay-Bird shook her head as her ears twitched erratically, threw up her hands and began to make her way back to the river camp, apparently being dragged across the ground was cause to call it quits.
It had taken them two days to get anywhere in regards to the Herald's riding, the elf was truly unequipped for such a thing and the learning process was slow and painful. At least now Dune knew enough to travel via her own stead, an ambitious Fereldan Forder that reminded Casandra of his reckless owner. The Seeker shook her head before diving beneath Lake Luthias' water's as she began her morning swim. The previous days training had left the warrior coated in a layer of dust and smelling of horse and since the party had recently closed a Rift in the area it was voted that they stop there for the night and take much-needed baths. Cassandra broke the surface and began to make laps around the lake, it reminded her of when she was younger. Swimming had always been one of her favoured passed times as it was a good way to exercise and cool off. Though once she was officially under Divine Beatrix's employment she had to give up the activity as the Divine's Right Hand being found naked in the Orlesian countryside would have caused quite the scandal. She shook her head once more and immersed herself fully into the task at hand, a candle mark and a half later the Seeker emerged from the lake, dried off and donned fresh clothing before heading back to camp, a towel draped over her shoulders and braid yet to be pinned up.
She had only just entered the makeshift base's perimeter when a blur of black and blue rushed past charging towards the lake, Cassandra caught herself on a nearby tree as the tiny Dalish woman uttered a hasty apology without breaking her stride.
"Jay's been itching to get in the water ever since she figured out where you had run off too, Seeker," Varric said.
"Really?" She asked, "Then why not join me?"
"I don't know," he shrugged. "She mentioned something about privacy being hard to come by where she's from. Though I like to think that she was afraid seeing you in the nude might leave her blind." Cassandra snorted and rolled her eyes before making her way over too the nearby pile of letters, she began shuffling through. Most correspondences were for the Herald about the Inquisition's progress. She set those aside, there was one for Varric without a return address, she tossed that at the dwarf and he yelped when the enveloped smacked him square in the face. The Seeker turned before he could spot her smirk, more notes for Dune a few proposals addressed to herself, which she immediately tossed into the fire, apparently being labelled a heretic by the Chantry was not taking her off every lord's list of potential daughter in laws. Cassandra was about to toss all of the remaining letters into the flames when one caught her attention, it was thinner than the rest and sealed with a very familiar raven stamp pressed into purple wax. The seeker frowned before breaking the seal, the elegant script of her friend's hand greeted her:
Dearest Cassandra,
I hope that this letter reaches you in good health.
I have managed to get in contact with an old friend and he has agreed to meet about our cause in a private setting. Until I have finished authenticating said assembly, you must remain in the Hinterlands. It should only take about fourteen days to do so. Help the people and build a name for the Inquisition while you are there. My little birds will be arriving in a weeks time with supplies, they will also be delivering your next set of orders.
This letter is for your eyes alone, read it twice before burning it.
Andraste guide you,
N.
P.S I have received word that a Warden going by the name of Blackwall may be in the area if you have the time to investigate I would appreciate it immensely.
"What's with the face?" The Seeker looked up from her note, fire met ice as dark wet hair was idly dried.
"We have just received orders," Cassandra replied as she tossed the missive into the fire. "We have been instructed to remain in the Hinterlands for the next two weeks." Her party members let out a symphony of groans and Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose. "Leliana has made contact with a potential ally, we need to wait on news from her before moving out."
"Fine," Dune muttered. "But, I'm gonna complain the whole time.
"I would expect," the Seeker sighed. "Nothing less," Dune grumbled before stalking over and grabbing Varric's crossbow, she chucked the heavy thing at the dwarf knocking him over.
"Come on short stuff," the Herald said. "We still got some daylight, might as well get some huntin' done."
"Andraste's ass! Why do you people keep throwing shit at me?" Varric wheezed as he heaved himself back to his feet. "Next time don't be so rough with Bianca, she prefers a gentler touch." He said while smoothing out his chest hair.
Then, unfortunately," Dune grabbed her blade and marched over towards The Seeker. "She isn't the woman for me."
"Oh?"
"I like my woman," the Herald started as she set her sword down next to Cassandra. "to be able to give as good as they get." The elf glanced over at the Seeker, "do yeah mind keeping an eye on Baxter for me? I hear that apostates have mighty sticky fingers." Solas glared at the back of Dune's head as Cassandra agreed, "Just try not to touch it, damn thing has a tendency to stab people."
"We going Jay or are there more babysitting instructions?"
"Hang on," the Herald stated as she scooped up one of the scouts bows and a quiver of arrows before the soldier could notice. "Has anyone ever told you that patience is key?"
"That's rich coming from you, do you even know how to use one of those things."
"I'm Dalish-"
"That doesn't mean shit, Daisy couldn't hit the broad side of a Qunari."
"Whose Daisy?"
"Now that's a long story, and it starts in a way you wouldn't expect, with a dragon trapped in a necklace..."