Dorian,
Maker's hairy arse, you would HATE it here. I hate it here and it's only been a night. It's dry and it's hot and I have sand in places that even the Maker won't talk about and we almost got killed by a particularly rude set of terrors vomited out of a rift and Snaggles almost bit my finger off during our fight with said terrors.
I wish you were here, though. We could bounce complaints off each other and everything-just like always.
Did you get that bottle of Vint-9 Rowan's Rose I left you? I had it shipped from my uncle's stores in Ostwick-he was more than happy to fulfill his favorite niece's request, though I didn't tell him it was going to you; I'd rather let him enjoy the mental image of me getting drunk as an Orzammar noble at a wedding. Look at me, complaining and wishing you were here, when I know you'd rather be sipping wine and reading up on new theories in magic.
Tell me about anything particularly interesting that happens while I'm gone. Josephine sends me gossip, sure, but that's all business. I'd rather get all the good stuff from you.
Write back when you can-I can't imagine how terribly busy it must be back at Skyhold.
Amelia
My dear Amelia,
It's wonderful to hear from you. I'm sorry about how dry and sandy it is where you are-perhaps you could get a certain military commander to run you a bath when you return? Ugh, look at me matchmaking-I sound like my mother.
The wine you had sent to me is utterly divine. So divine, in fact, that I even managed to save some for you to try when you get back. See what you people have done to me? I can't even finish a bottle of wine anymore.
You asked for gossip and trust me when I say that my ears are pinned to every bloody wall listening to every possible scrap of information. Well, more so than usual anyway. We did have a few nobles from Starkhaven arrive three days ago and make a number of. . .very thinly veiled insults to the Inquisition and to Skyhold. But before you run back here in a rage with a fresh quiver of arrows, I'll have you know that Josephine and Leliana very much put them in their place. If I remember correctly, our dear ambassador said something to the effect of the Inquisition cutting off someone's horse supply from Ostwick. Meanwhile, Leliana just stood there being terrifying. Oh, you should have seen it-art in its truest form.
Keep your wits about you out there.
Dorian