Vita's hoofs clopped loudly on the stones beneath them as the horse and its rider passed under Skyhold's massive main gate, Isabeau grinning as warmness settled upon her cheeks despite the crisp air of the stronghold's location. With a great fondness, she welcomed the onslaught of sounds and sights that gave life to the bustling yard, a varying collection of peoples bowing their heads in respectful greeting as she came to a stop amongst them. The Inquisitor's harrowing trip that saw her trek across both Orlais and the Marches had kept her from her home for the longest period to date; her absence made more poignant as her senses were bombarded with the assortment of changes surrounding her. In addition to the various tents set up for refugee intake, a small sparring ring had been built into the back corner near where the stables stood, Horsemaster Dennet looking up and over to wave as he finished picking at a destrier's hooves.
As the Inquisitor and her entourage crowded the main yard of the Keep, various agents and attendants immediately surged forward, Isabeau leaning forward in the saddle as she sympathetically watched Cullen be swarmed. The Commander had barely had his boots hit the mud before various scribes and officers were pressing in with reports, Cullen shooting her a desperate glance in apology before he began to turn and head towards the grand stairs.
"Ser!"
Isabeau had just slid out of her own saddle when she heard the voice ring out, turning to look at the lieutenant who had called for Cullen's return. She briefly greeted her awaiting squire Pod before passing him Vita's reigns, watching as Cullen was lead in the opposite direction of his apartments and solar, he and the throng climbing the stairs across the yard before disappearing inside one of the wall's flanking towers. With a mild start, Isabeau let out a breathless chuckle of disbelief as the repairs to the Keep's structure became suddenly apparent. The major renovations to Skyhold had only just begun when Isabeau had first left for Andoral's Reach and it pleased her that Cullen now appeared to have a proper office of his own. Josephine and Leliana had been sworn to secrecy; the Inquisitor having furtively written her command shortly after her departure to expedite the towers restorations specifically. While leading from the war room or the privacy of his solar had not impeded his functionality, after what the pair had shared with one another on the beach back in Hercinia, it especially warmed Isabeau to know Cullen's apartments were finally to be an oasis for him from the Inquisition's controlled chaos.
Pulling off her gloves to dust off her breeches, Isabeau nodded to Solas and Varric in kind dismissal before watching the pair head for their own quarters, the Inquisitor choosing to wander the Keep and appreciate whatever work was completed before she had to succumb to her responsibilities.
That and hope I elude both Josephine and Leliana in the process. Oh but they'd be cross if they knew…
Stifling the nagging voice as she climbed into the higher levels of the yard, immediately Isabeau's eyes fell upon where a rotting ruin of a building used to stand. In its place now stood a charming but fair sized tavern, the lively tune of a bard's song beckoning Isabeau inside with each chord that seemed to flow from the building's various open windows. As the Inquisitor stepped through the threshold, the smells of roasted meat and hearth fire pleasingly filled her nose, her eyes immediately finding Bull and Krem sitting in an alcove behind the stairs that stood directly before her.
"Good to see you back, Boss!" Bull boomed as he lazily raised his tankard in greeting, Krem doing the same as Isabeau approached. She smiled widely in kind, her neck twisting as she approvingly took in her surroundings before leveling her gaze with the comrade's.
"Love what you've done with the place," she jested as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I take it this is your new quarters?"
"Yup. No offense but I literally and figuratively don't ah… 'fit in' at the barracks. That and the alternative has been sharing a floor with some of your diplomats… probably not the best of ideas in the long run," the giant Quinari shrugged before taking a deep gulp from his tankard. "Sera's claimed one of the rooms upstairs and the Kid seems content in the loft."
"Glad to hear it," Isabeau breathed in reply before nodding towards Krem. "What about you, Krem? You and the Chargers still managing in the barracks alright?"
"We're fine Inquisitor; it's a bit… cozy, but no complaints."
Isabeau bowed her head in assent, pleased the efficient mercenary group had settled in with little trouble, "Right… well, I'll leave you to it then."
"Boss?"
Isabeau paused as she made for her exit and turned to arch a questioning eyebrow at Iron Bull, "Hm?"
"Red… filled us all in on the trip back. Just wanted to uh… give my respects. Let me know if you need a night of getting good and ripped; I know shits not been easy lately."
The persistent knot that had recently laid claim to her throat briefly returned, Isabeau reaching to have her hand squeezed tightly in Bull's before releasing a deep sigh, "Thank you… I may very well take you up on that offer." At the nod of Bull's head in acknowledgement, she softly bid her farewells and decided to head for the privacy of her own quarters.
After navigating Skyhold's various sprawling corridors in an effort to avoid the main hall, many of which were nearing completion of their own repairs, Isabeau finally pushed open the door to her solar only to find it completely empty. With a sigh, her head thunked tiredly against the frame of the doorway. While a part of her was not surprised, her exhaustion was beginning to outweigh her delight in the alterations; in addition to being rather tired from her journey, Isabeau now could no longer avoid meeting with the others, if only to find out where her quarters had been moved to.
"I see you've returned."
With a small start, Isabeau pulled away from her lean in the door frame, almost sheepishly avoiding Leliana's patient but expectant gaze as she nervously picked at her nails. "My apologies Spymaster… after seeing Cullen practically mauled, I wasn't keen on facing the same fate quite yet." She chuckled ruefully as a rare and tender smile teased at Leliana's lips, the guarded woman briefly embracing Isabeau before she gestured them forwards, the two keeping stride as the Spymaster led them towards the main hall.
"I understand, Inquisitor. Rest assured, we have all agreed it would be best to allow you at least a day to readjust… before returning to the business at hand." Leliana softly explained, Isabeau grateful as the Bard expertly waved away or diverted the various people who approached in their path as they swiftly made their way through the main hall, Leliana soon pushing open a heavy wooden door that unveiled an area of the Keep Isabeau recalled being too decrepit for safe entry previously. As they climbed the stairs dotted with varying levels of scaffolding and piles of masonry, curiosity got the better of her.
"Where… are you taking me?"
"Hush… and just follow me," Leliana tittered quietly as she pushed open a final door that lead to a wide set of stairs, Isabeau wracking her brain to situate where she was in relation to the rest of Skyhold. She looked up to try and place where the light was illuminating the steps with various hues of splendid colours, her eyes finding a towering peaked ceiling lined with wide wooden support beams. When she came to the top of the stairs, a wall lined entirely with windows greeted her, their numerous arches decorated with stunningly intricate stained glass. The delicate drapery that hung at either end billowed lazily in the cool air from the balcony on the opposite wall, Isabeau immediately rushing forward to enjoy the spectacular mountain vista it offered.
"Leliana, this is…" Isabeau trailed off as she breathed softly in astonished appreciation, turning to explore the open but intimate quarters surrounding her. Her desk and book shelves that previously populated her solar were now cozily tucked into a corner, flanked on either side by the magnificent windows and, as Isabeau soon discovered, another balcony that looked down upon the Keep's gardens below. The Inquisitor slowly made her way around the room as Leliana took a seat on a nearby chesterfield, visibly smiling in fond triumph with each gasp of appreciation Isabeau emitted.
As she came to a stop at the roaring hearth, Isabeau rested her hands on the back of one of her chaise longues that faced the flames, absently admiring the beautiful Halla statue that stood upon the hearthstone's shelf along with the rest of her varying trinkets. She turned to look behind her, gazing for several long seconds at the beautiful fresco upon the walls of the alcove above her bed, her scrutiny lingering on the Inquisition's Eye before she joined Leliana on the settee that ran along the stair's banister.
"You approve?"
Isabeau did not stifle the tears that welled at the corners of her eyes, "I…truthfully did not mind my previous quarters, but this… truly feels like mine." She sniffled softly before reaching to grasp Leliana's hand in hers. "Thank you. It is… beyond lovely."
"Then I am glad. Josie and I were in agreement you and the Commanderboth needed a… sanctuary of your own when you are home," Leliana explained quietly as she squeezed Isabeau's hand in return before she stood. "Please take the rest of today for yourself, Inquisitor; it would be dishonest to say I did not want you to bask in our efforts."
Chuckling softly, Isabeau stood and unabashedly pulled Leliana into a tight embrace, the Spymaster hesitating ever so briefly before she returned it in kind. With a nod of her head, Leliana then made her descent, disappearing from Isabeau's view before the gentle creaking of her quarter's heavy door soon followed. Blowing out a long breath, the unruly ashen tresses of her hair billowing upwards almost comically, Isabeau immediately began pulling off her soiled travelling clothes. A brief spike of concern shot through her as she realized she did not see her wardrobe in the room, its location soon discovered as she opened one of the doors that flanked either side of her expansive bed.
A closet Madame Vivienne aspires to fill perhaps?
Suppressing a dubious snort, Isabeau remained in little more than her smalls as she moved to investigate the seconddoor in the room. Finding a short ladder, she climbed up to see she now stood directly below the fresh paint of the room's mural, a large copper tub and shelves filled with towels and other necessities greeting her. While it was sorely tempting, Isabeau decided the effort involved was not worth the enticement of a hot bath, opting to quickly freshen up at the adjacent wash basin instead.
Once finished, she climbed back down and quickly pulled on a fresh pair of leather breeches and her usual choice of a linen chemise, giving a great stretch before making her way for the stairs that lead to the heart of Skyhold. Pausing to turn and briefly appreciate her new quarters one more time, she then bounced her way down the numerous steps of her tower, soon pushing the door into the main hall open. With a steadying breath, she threw herself into the throng of people that currently sat or moseyed about the various tables lining the walls, chatting warmly with each group she approached before finally finding Varric nursing a tankard near a hearth at the far end.
"There you are; get lost after being away so long?" The Dwarf gently quipped before setting his tankard down, moving to knit his arms across his chest at Isabeau's ill-amused expression. "I'm just kidding… you settling in alright?"
Moving to sit beside her companion, Isabeau plopped her head into her palm as she bent her elbow upon the table. "Well, Leliana had a… surprise for me when I arrived." At the wary look on Varric's face, she hastily added, "Of the good kind."
"So… you and Curly got your presents?"
Isabeau let out a short chuckle, "Heh, yes… I suppose we both did. You knew?"
"Obviously."
"I'm not sure why I even bother asking sometimes," Isabeau chuckled as she leaned back to stretch her arms above her, still feeling the effects of the ride from the mountain's base. "It's… different here now. Not that I'm ungrateful, it is just a lot to take in…" she explained, her face darkening as the pressure of her station threatened to surge against the dam she was attempting to reinforce. "I confess to being a poor navigator when it comes to change."
Varric nudged his tankard toward her with a suggestive perk to his eyebrows, nodding in approval as the Inquisitor yielded with a shrug and took a generous swig. "Inks, from where I stand… you're navigating this shit just fine. Better than most would, at least." He shook his head in wary disbelief, "I'mhaving my own problems facing a lot of this…" Varric paused to absently wave his hand at the bustling hall round them, "My point is, don't be too hard on yourself; we'll figure this out, Beaux."
Isabeau's shoulders slumped from the weight of her convalescence, trying to take heart in her companion's encouragement, "I hope so, too."
"Bah, come on… today's pretty much your last day off for the foreseeable future," standing and walking from the bench, Varric turned to impatiently wave her towards him. "I've got an idea of how to keep your mind off the bullshit."
"Oh?"
"Take it you saw the best addition to Skyhold since baked bread?"
Isabeau chuckled loudly as she followed Varric down the impressive main stairs, "The tavern in the middle of the yard, you mean?"
"You say it like it's a bad thing!" Varric cried in mock indignity.
"No, no, I just…" She trailed off with a chuckle at the sudden realization, growing increasingly contrite as she examined her unwarranted concern. Andraste's tits, you've become high-strung. Squashing the pestering voice, Isabeau attempted instead to explain herself, "I just worry the deterrent of an afternoon's ride may have worked to our benefit. At least when the barrack's rotation allowed an emptying to the village for a few days, the lack of sobriety was not only contained elsewhere but…" She shrugged, "It meant the men had a real break."
"Not everyone deals with it the same way, Beaux…" Varric retorted patiently as he flashed Isabeau a knowing smile, pausing outside the tavern's doors as he looked up at Isabeau thoughtfully. "Our sort seem to do well closer to home… give me your evening and you can see it for yourself."
Crossing her arms, Isabeau's left hand tapped anxiously against the sleeves of her chemise as she considered Varric's invite. "I really should at least start looking over some reports…" The excuse, lame as she knew it was, died on her lips at Varric's admonishing glare. With a sigh, she pushed open tavern's door, "Alright Varric; for tonight, you have me."
"Don't let Charming hear you say that."
"Say what?"
Isabeau awkwardly came to a halt as she barely avoided walking right into Cullen, her eyes having been glued to Varric with her retort on the tip of her tongue. "Maker! You startled me!" she cried in reprimand as a hand clutched her chest, her mouth agape at the wary scowl Cullen was flashing Varric. "What are you doing here? Were you not just sacrificed to the Parchment Gods?"
"Isabeau," Cullen groaned in gentle warning as Varric's chuckles were soon joined by several other familiar sounding laughs.
"How… accurate," Dorian chortled as he nodded approvingly, raising a hand to airily wave at Isabeau. "A few of us thought we'd join yours and Varric's little... soiree."
As Isabeau came to see nearly all of her comrades amusedly watching her entrance to the crowded tavern, she slowly rounded on her shorter companion. "Are you ever spontaneous, Varric?"
"What! This is spontaneous!" The dwarf merely shrugged in further argument before beckoning her to a stool opposite from where Cullen had sat. Josephine smiled warmly next to where Isabeau plopped down, the beautiful Antivan dipping her shoulder playfully into the Inquisitor's, "We are all glad for you to be back."
"Thank you, Josephine... I am glad to beback," Isabeau's eyes moved across the numerous and well-loved faces surrounding her at the table, Solas, Vivienne and Leliana being the only absences of note as she also saw several of the Chargers drinking with Krem nearby. She jutted her chin at Bull, crossing her arms over her chest as she tried to get comfortable on the stool, "Drinking starts now, hm?"
"Your words, Boss… Not mine," Bull impishly growled and rose from his chair to wave an arm at the Commander, "Cullen, come and put those muscles of yours to some good use. First round's on me!"
Isabeau sighed in mock exasperation, "You know, I'm supposed to be useful come the morrow."
"Get off! The little people see their mighty Inquisitor tits-down-ass-up and suddenly you don't seem so tall. Normal, yeah?" Sera insisted pointedly as she rocked to and fro on her stool, precariously perched in a distinctly feline fashion.
Dorian nodded in measured agreement, "Sobriety's overrated."
Isabeau fought to keep her laughs at bay, looking over to see Cullen's scowl deepen the more he appeared to process Sera's words; Josephine's own giggles soon joining the Inquisitor as the more vulgar component was visibly mouthed by their Commander. With a disbelieving shake of her head, Isabeau leaned forward to rest her elbows upon the scuffed surface of the table, "At least I can endure knowing my closest companions and advisors are feeling just as shit." She barked out a laugh as she considered the potential, "Josephine, on a scale of Nug to Giant Spiders, how scary will Leliana be if tomorrow proves a waste?"
Josephine nervously began to fiddle with the medallions that were draped across her chest, "Everything has a price, Inquisitor. However, I am in a gambling mood; let us bet on her forgiveness." The Ambassador paused and smiled warmly at Isabeau, "If my suspicions are correct, we will become well acquainted with a particularly potent spirit tonight. The Quinari are… efficient even with their stimulants."
"Comforting," Isabeau quipped as she looked away to watch Bull and Cullen return with various tankards clutched in their large hands. After distributing them amongst their companions, Varric took the lead in a round of cheers before they all tipped back their first gulp. Explosive coughing and gasping collectively erupted around the table, Isabeau catching Bull's satisfied smirk through tear filled eyes.
The giant Quinari chuckled throatily as he casually gulped at his own tankard of the liquor, "Bite the pillow, folks; now you're all committed."
Stifling one more wretched cough, Cullen awkwardly cleared his throat before speaking, "I have a thousand things I need to do and you seem to have enough willing victims. I can leave you all to it."
At Cullen's awkward fidgeting, Isabeau, Varric and Dorian all narrowed their eyes at the Commander, the Inquisitor smirking at Cullen competitively before she knocked back another quick gulp of the burning Quinari brew. She fought to swallow her cough, blowing out a gasp of aftershock before she accusingly pointed a finger at Cullen, "If I'm committed, my armies are, too. You're needed here, Ser."
"Maker's breath, Isabeau; have your fun but I should… really get to work." As Cullen made to rise, Varric warmly but haltingly pressed a hand on the Knight's shoulder, gently pushing Cullen back into his seat.
"Charming, if there's any man who needs a harmless night of vice, it's you."
"It is one evening, Commander; if necessary, I can monitor tomorrow's duties in your stead," Cassandra offered as she reached for her second tankard, a funny look of relief flashing across her features as she sipped. Isabeau followed her lead, pleased and also relieved to taste one of Cabot's finest meads. She licked at her lips before quirking an eyebrow at Cassandra in curiosity.
"You don't get hang overs?"
"No."
"Fuck off, everyone gets hangovers!" Bull scoffed in disbelief.
"Besides the fact I do not consume to impairment?" Cassandra retorted, crossing her arms over her chest as she narrowed her eyes haughtily at Bull. "My training is… useful, in this case. Should you be… compromised Commander, I will maintain order."
"Point is, Curly… you don't have a choice. You're committed," Varric pressured, coaxing Cullen to raise his tankard for Varric's to clank against it; the Commander capitulating with a shake of his head as the odd pair simultaneously downed the remainder of their drinks. Isabeau and the others clapped and laughed in their merriment, a redness spreading across Cullen's cheeks to his ears, delighting Isabeau to no end as she watched her Knight gingerly expose himself.
"This makes it… fuzzy," Cole whispered in perplexed delight as he scrutinized his stein, Blackwall sniggering as he walked by and patted a hand comfortingly on the Spirit's back.
"Wicked Grace? Or does anyone have a different game in mind?" the Warden asked as he took his seat, reaching to tap his fingers atop the wooden box that held the aforementioned game. As various heads nodded in agreement around the table, Isabeau bit at her lower lip as she thought of an alternative.
"We could… or we could make this a bit more interesting," Isabeau proposed, swallowing down another gulp of her mead before she continued. "Right… At your turn, you confess to something you've never done or liked – if anyone has done or does like whatever it is, they all have to drink."
"Wot?" Sera scowled, her face screwing up in confusion.
Isabeau giggled, "Let me go first, you'll get the idea then." Reaching to hold her tankard in both hands close against her lips and chin, Isabeau sipped thoughtfully before evenly meeting the numerous gazes before her. "Alright, I have never… shot bolts of lightning from a stick."
"Such an eloquent way of putting it, Inquisitor…" Dorian snidely quipped as he was unaccompanied in taking a deep gulp of the Quinari drink. The handsome man nodded as he took the game over, "Right. My turn then? Tempting as it is to seek my immediate vengeance upon you specifically Inquisitor, I'll try a greater bang for my sovereign." The Mage's hand came to rub at his jawline as he seemed to consider each person sitting before him, "I have never… lived without magic."
"Cheap!" Sera cried as everyone besides Dorian knocked back their tankards in unison. After a round of laughing and shared sentiments, Varric smirked at Cassandra.
"Seeker?"
"Let me think," the usually stern woman grumbled as she worried at her lower lip, her gaze glued to the table as she visibly ruminated. Raising her head, Cassandra awkwardly fiddled with the mug of her own drink, "I have never… worked as a mercenary."
As Isabeau followed Bull in knocking back more booze, he turned to raise his tankard at his men a few tables over. "Krem! Drink, you bastards!"
"Affirmative, Chief!" Krem called back, he and his assorted comrades heartily chugging back their drinks together. Bull chuckled spiritedly as Varric cleared his throat to hush the fits of laughter plaguing the table.
"Come on, you guys can be more creative than this!" the Dwarf admonished as he grinned wickedly at Isabeau. "I have never… bedded a Fereldan."
After several others around Isabeau dutifully took their drinks with her, Cullen's hand awkwardly rose but hesitated at his mouth. "Not a word, Dwarf…" he muttered into his tankard before slowly raising it to his lips and swallowing deeply, Isabeau laughing as she filed the information away for later.
"Surely you have an arsenal at your fingertips, Commander?" Dorian teased as he languidly sipped at his tankard of mead.
Cullen's eyes narrowed as he appeared to process the Mage's sass before releasing an exasperated breath, briefly meeting Isabeau's playful scrutiny before he coughed into his hand and hesitated in participating. "This is ridiculous, by the way…" he protested before crossing his arms and leaning back on his stool, frowning as he tentatively ventured forward. "I… have never – uh, liked... sailing."
Varric snorted crassly. "Yeah, the trip from Kirkwall was a peach. Between Cassandra's bitchiness and your barfing, I was about ready to toss myself overboard," he bemoaned after he swallowed deeply, not even attempting to acknowledge Cassandra's obvious disdain. He arched his eyebrows warningly at Isabeau over the edge of his tankard, "Cullen and the sea… had a disagreement."
Laughing, Isabeau drank heartily from her tankard, having grown up loving her time spent on the open ocean. "It's… not for everyone," she confessed lightly as she tilted her head to the side to smile warmly at Cole, "Your turn, kiddo… want to have a go?"
The young man twitched almost nervously as he seemed to process his options. Finally, he nodded as he pointed at Cullen, "I have never… thought of the desk as not a desk."
Cullen blinked with confused chagrin before he suddenly turned a fantastic shade of red, clear realization dawning on him as he coughed awkwardly between gulps from his tankard. Avoiding Isabeau's curiosity, he leaned forward to bury his face into his forearms. Isabeau and the others looked at each other in amusement, Cullen having been the only consumer; a familiar and welcome warmth spread across Isabeau's chest as she arched an eyebrow suggestively at her Commander.
"What desk, Ser?"
"Yes, do tell!" Josephine chimed in, pulling her chair closer as she leaned to gaze at Cullen intently.
"I-it's nothing!" Cullen implored as he turned his gaze desperately in Bull's direction. "You can jump in anytime, arsehole…"
Bull tutted disapprovingly at the vexed Knight, "Don't get your smalls in a knot now, Cullen. You can't seriously expect me to make this easier?" With a dip of his horns, Bull waved down Cabot the barkeep, reaching to lay his arm along the back of his and Cole's chairs as he placed an order. With a cocky grin, Bull looked positively fierce as he turned and leered at his companions before roaring, "I have never… fucked in the missionary position. Now drink!"
After an initial outburst of disbelief, protest and general grumbling, everyone around the table sheepishly drank from their tankards; Cole's tankard being the only one left untouched as Isabeau absently considered exactly what the curious spirit boy was being subjected to. She drunkenly felt an odd impulsion to shoo the lad off to bed before she burst out laughing, reaching to tug at her hip, "The next one is mine!" With a jingle of coin, she dropped the pouch down in front of her as she felt a light giddiness course through her, a blessed yet numb relief tempting her as the alcohol worked its own magic.
"Blackwall!" Varric cried.
"Yeah, let's hear it you dirty old man," Bull snickered as he met the Warden's impetuous glare.
"Listen, pup… not all of us have our minds perpetually mired in a filthy gutter," Blackwall growled in playful reprimand as he leaned back in his chair, smirking cheekily at his companion's expectant gazes. "I have never… attended an Orlesian ball."
Josephine gracefully nodded her surrender, deeply swigging from her drink as she turned to quirk an eyebrow expectantly at Isabeau. When it became clear the Diplomat was alone in her endeavor, she shrugged and took an extra sip for good measure.
"Make it a good one, Ruffles!" Varric commanded as he merrily clunked his tankard with Dorian's.
"Oh! Is it my turn? Was Sera not..?" Josephine trailed off as she turned and discovered the curious elf had disappeared leaving only Blackwall at her side, Isabeau also perplexed as she, too, had failed to notice Sera's departure. Josephine cleared her throat as she turned and smiled confidently at the others who remained, "Moving on then. Alright, let me see… I have never…" the diplomat trailed off as she demurely dipped her head, "…made love before a roaring hearth."
Isabeau nearly choked as her hand moved before her throat was prepared to follow, everyone at the table except for Cole drinking deeply as Josephine smiled in triumph. The Inquisitor's eyes flicked upwards to find Cullen's returning her gaze in equal measure over the brim of his tankard, Isabeau feeling a rush of yearning course through her as welcomed but illicit memories returned.
"… Not ever?" Blackwall quietly broke the silence as he avoided Josephine's attention, the Ambassador warmly shaking her head as she shrugged her reply.
"The… opportunity never arose."
"…A pity."
Varric loudly cleared his throat as Blackwall's attention grew increasingly fixated on the depths of his tankard. "So, moving on… Inquisitor, out with the good stuff."
Isabeau grinned predatorily at Varric, "I have never… named a weapon after a woman."
"Well… shit," Varric shrugged his shoulders in defeat before he finished his pint, gasping after swallowing to cheer in welcome as the bartender returned with Bull's order. Isabeau reached and tossed the pouch of coins onto the keep's tray, Cabot nodding in understanding as Isabeau assured they were taken care of for the evening.
Dorian quirked a suggestive eyebrow at those surrounding him, "Perhaps not as scandalous as our dear Iron Bull's confession, but just as juicy; I have never… had post-battle sex."
"Maker's breath! Are we just about finished with that particular topic?" Cullen groaned as he glared at the simpering Mage, Dorian wiggling his eyebrows at the Commander's drink until the Knight succumbed to his pressure and drank deeply. Isabeau pulled away her own tankard from her lips as she watched Cassandra, Bull and Blackwall follow.
Varric shook his head amusedly as he chuckled at his companions drunken sheepishness, "You warrior types, huh?"
"It is a… pleasant outlet," Cassandra nodded thoughtfully as she took a shallow gulp of her mead. Eyebrows soon furrowing, the Seeker growled in agitation, "Ugh, I cannot think of anything further – someone else take their turn."
"You and I both know that's not true," Varric argued, Isabeau not missing the way Cassandra's nostrils flared at the Dwarf's daring.
"Commander Cullen?"
Pushing back from his seat to rise, Cullen smiled as he greeted the soldier that had approached and interrupted their game. He clasped the stranger's outstretched forearm respectfully, "Knight-Captain Rylen… I had not anticipated your arrival so soon." Cullen awkwardly reached to scratch at the back of his neck, Isabeau wondering if she wasn't the only one who noticed the flush to her Commander's face.
"We made good time. I apologize for the intrusion, but when I came in for a pint after that damn ride... Well, imagine my surprise to see you already here!" Rylen chuckled affably, the tattoos adorning his handsome face accenting his already sharp features. In her growing inebriation, Isabeau found herself naughtily admiring the Inquisition's newest arrival. As she turned her head to quickly glance at Dorian and Cassandra at her side, she realized she was not alone in the sentiment.
"Rylen, is it?" Isabeau suddenly asked, standing to grab an extra chair from a nearby table and setting it up between the Seeker and Mage. "Join us! It's not often we can indulge; best get your jollies in now while you can."
Cullen coughed into his fist, "Ser Rylen… this is Isabeau, our Inquisitor."
The soldier reached to pull off his helmet before clasping his hand in hers, Isabeau staring in delighted fascination as Cassandra hungrily bit at her bottom lip behind the Knight. Rylen's scalp was exposed to show lines of intricate tattoos that framed the Mohawk atop his head. "Ah, heh. You're generous to offer, Inquisitor. An honor and unless the Commander takes issue, I would be glad to."
"Of course Rylen," Cullen warmly gestured to the seat Isabeau had provided, pushing one of the extra tankards the soldier's way before the pair amicably cheered.
"Were you a Templar, Rylen?" Isabeau asked as she surreptitiously stretched out her leg, Cullen's slight jolt across the table confirming she had found his. He flashed her a rebellious smirk before his boot gave hers a solid tap.
"Yes, your Eminence. I was stationed in Starkhaven, climbed the ranks to Knight-Captain. When Kirkwall… blew up… I moved to assist in relief efforts," Rylen explained as he leaned his elbows on the table, his hand dangling down to fiddle with the rim of his tankard. "Ser Cullen was in Command of the Gallows and we came to realize we had a shared… perspective."
"A… pity you had not been there when I arrived," Cassandra blurted awkwardly, shaking her head ruefully as the considered her own words. "I meant - you would have been a valuable asset to have from the start." Quickly knocking back her drink, Isabeau shared knowing glances with several of her companions as their Seeker blatantly avoided the Knight-Captain's gaze.
The tattooed man seemed to turn a shade darker, "I… appreciate your confidence in my abilities. Am I correct in assuming you are Lady Pentaghast?" At the nod of Cassandra's head, Rylen continued, "I am honored to make your acquaintance; I have… heard much of your feats. Alas, I confess my own stubbornness had a hand in my delay with joining your cause." The Ex-Templar nodded evenly at Isabeau then as he raised a fist against his chest, "It won't be a problem again. You have me, Inquisitor."
"Excellent! To my ever growing collection of badassery!" Isabeau clapped briefly before raising her tankard, everyone around the table doing the same before great loud clanking erupted in the tavern. Their cries growing more boisterous as their new friend was welcomed into the fold, various other tables joined in the jubilations, Isabeau reduced to a fit of gasping laughter as she reveled in the blessed comradery.
"Make room for one more!" Scout Harding suddenly shouted as she strolled, dual tankards in hand, towards where Isabeau and the others sat. Bull pushed back from the table to playfully pat at his lap, Harding barking out a flippant laugh before she pulled a stool up between the Quinari and Cole.
"How's it going, beautiful?"
"Eat Nug testicles, pumpkin." Harding sweetly cursed in reply, knocking back her drink before nodding competitively at Varric, "Couldn't help but overhear your little game. I want in."
"This will get interesting…" Varric agreed, pointing an accusing finger at a noticeably distracted Cassandra as he hummed, "Seeeeeeeker, you still haven't played your turn."
Cassandra frowned. "No, someone go in my stead. We have new players; let them contribute," she muttered as she nervously rubbed her palms against her tankard, Isabeau cocking an eyebrow at Cullen as she and the Commander shared a secret smile over their flustered friend.
"Perfect!" Harding shouted as she slammed her drink down, mead lazily sloshing over the brim to pool on the table. "I have never… been caught out in my smalls!"
"Perish the thought," Josephine gasped as her hand flew to her chest in mock indignation.
"It happens," Rylen muttered good-naturedly as he chugged generously at his drink, Bull and several others joining him before Cassandra then took a careful, slow sip.
"Now there's a story!" Varric gasped as he wiped at the mead that had spilled down his chin, "I could make it happen, Testy. I'll just need a few details."
"Oh to the void with you!" Cassandra groaned as the table burst into fits of laughter, Cullen suddenly kicking at Isabeau's leg as he twitched his eyebrows in the Seeker's direction, Isabeau catching a brief and hurriedly whispered exchange between Cassandra and the Knight-Captain. Biting at her bottom lip, the increasing ruckus of the tavern around them seemed to become dull as Isabeau questioningly shrugged her shoulders at Cullen. A silent conversation was attempted as the pair flashed varying facial expressions each other's way, Isabeau too amused – or, and this is far more likely, drunk- to concern herself with how stupid the two of them must have looked. Smiling at Cullen through half-lidded eyes, Isabeau bit at her bottom lip as she perked her head in the direction of his new office.
Cullen narrowed his eyes as he seemed to consider her silent proposal, moving to speak just as Rylen's voice rang out.
"I have never… made use of a storage closet!"
Suddenly recalling a distant memory of sneaking around the Vael estate with Sebastian in their youth, Isabeau felt her own cheeks explode as she and Cullen drank in unison. Everyone besides Rylen, Cole and Cassandra drank, the Knight-Captain raising his tankard apologetically at Cullen as he fought his fits of laughter.
"I'm sorry, Commander. I couldn't resist."
"Rylen…"
"No! Share!" Isabeau cried in protest, Dorian slamming his hand repeatedly upon the table as he cried 'hear, hear' in agreement.
"Absolutely not," Cullen insisted as he crossed his arms over his chest, defensively frowning at his companions. "Rylen, I will send you to the most far-flung Nug farm I can find if you persist in this."
Isabeau leaned towards the Knight-Captain as she blocked her lips from Cullen's view with her hand, "He's full of shit. We don't have any 'far-flung nug farms'."
"Say that ten times," Josephine quipped as chuckling immediately erupted around her, Cole beginning to recite the tongue twister in rapid succession until Bull gently distracted him with a large hand to the Spirit's shoulder.
"Inquisitor," Cullen hissed as he impatiently pinched at the bridge of his nose.
"Oh, Cullen-Wullen..." Bull's voice grumbled deeply as he exaggerated his consolation of the Commander, Cullen looking like he'd very much rather be somewhere else at the sound of Sera's latest addition to his various epithets. "When you gotta fire off some knuckle children, location doesn't really matter," Bull began to argue passionately. "Don't be ashamed, Commander. We've all been there at least once."
"Right… Perfect," Cullen piqued in guarded amusement as he flashed an accusatory glare Rylen's way, his speech noticeably slurred. "Before I am further embarrassed, I think it's time for me to… call it a night." Standing from his seat, Cullen leaned forward on the table as he gave his head a slight shake in farewell. "I bid you all goodnight."
Isabeau smirked ruefully at the others once Cullen had disappeared up the stairs that lead to the battlements. "Not that this hasn't been fun, but I confess I must follow Cullen's lead."
"The one that leads the same way, am I right, Inquisitor?"
"Varric, we both know that was lazy for a scoundrel of your caliber," Isabeau gently sassed as she playfully smacked Varric's arm from across the table. She stood from her seat and smiled fondly at those gathered, "Thank you, all of you… I needed this."
"It was our pleasure, Inquisitor," Josephine smiled kindly as she dipped her head in farewell. "Tomorrow will be a day of council, tiring in its own way but… at least you shall not see battle in your recovery."
"Thank the Maker for small blessings, huh, Josephine?" Isabeau drawled as she gave a shallow bow in farewell to her friends that remained, turning to climb the same stairs as Cullen that lead to the Keep's battlements. After reaching the top and pushing the heavy door open, Isabeau paused to appreciate the crisp air in her drunkenness, idly gazing across the mountain vista before moving on. Pushing open the doors to Cullen's new office, Isabeau leaned against the wall, unsurprised to see that already the Commander was surrounded with various agents.
"Rylen's men will monitor the situation."
He reached to accept an agents report, the young woman nodding as she returned to attention. "Yes, Ser. We'll begin preparations at once."
After quickly signing his name across the bottom of a stack of parchment, he turned to the gathered men and women as he took in their faces. "In the meantime, we'll send soldiers to assist in the…" he trailed off as his eyes met the Inquisitor's, Isabeau waiting attentively as she watched her Marshall work. Cullen coughed into his hand before continuing, "... in the uh, relief efforts. That will be all."
At their dismissal, Cullen followed the group to push the door closed behind them, Cullen exhaling tiredly as he pressed his forehead to the wood. "There's always something more."
Isabeau smiled as she shrugged ruefully, "Comes with the territory?"
"Heh, true enough…" Cullen sighed as he turned from the door, slowly walking toward his large desk as he awkwardly cracked at his knuckles. "Doesn't mean I have to like it," Cullen pointedly countered as he turned his gaze away from the Inquisitor's, Isabeau pushing from her lean to come up beside him, gently taking his hand in hers as she stilled his fidgeting.
"Wishing… we were somewhere else?"
Cullen softened as he shook his head at their clasped hands, "I barely found time to get away before all of… this."
"Tonight was fun, though; I'm… admittedly rather drunk," Isabeau confessed coyly as she nudged her hip against Cullen's thigh, slanting to protectively wrap her arms around herself. "So maybe we can't lose ourselves on a beach somewhere. But… we can have our normalcy, within these walls, at least."
Cullen suppressed a weary snort, "Privacy is an entirely different matter. The barracks already had enough fodder to remain occupied; I shudder to think what manner of… prattle has been inspired with tonight's antics."
"Oh, let them talk; it's harmless, Cullen…" Isabeau chastised gently before frowning at the worry lining the man's rugged face, a regretful familiarity sinking in as she slipped into a practiced patience. "Cullen, what's the matter?"
Crossing his arms over his broad chest, Cullen's jaw flexed as he noticeably grinded his teeth, a hand habitually moving to rub at the back of his neck before he took a steadying breath. "The uh… truth is, since Hercinia I have… been harboring some inopportune thoughts, my lady. This war… won't last forever," Cullen began as he tentatively met her gaze. "When this all started, I- well, I hadn't really considered anything beyond survival. But… things are going to be different now."
"Has… something changed between us?" Isabeau's eyebrows furrowed as she coaxed her usually stoic Knight further in his efforts, stepping towards him to rest her hand at his chest. Shaking his head in refute, Cullen leaned into the Inquisitor's touch as his chest rose and fell with a slow and controlled exhale.
"I… have found myself increasingly wondering at what happens when this is… all over," Cullen breathed as he raised a hand to affectionately glide this thumb over Isabeau's cheek bone, his long fingers teasing the skin behind her ear as he pushed back some of her rebellious hair. "I won't want to move on. Not from you…"
Before Isabeau could respond, Cullen's face fell in doubt, turning away from Isabeau as he nervously began to pace before her. "But I don't know what you – that is, if you - uh…" The ex-Templar sighed in irritation as he came to lean upon his desk, dejectedly shaking his head before his hand rose to rub at his forehead. "This always goes much better in my head."
Isabeau immediately grasped at his hand, pulling Cullen toward her as she flashed him a saucy smile, "Cullen… do you really have to ask?"
A timid smirk cracked Cullen's worried features as he turned Isabeau and slowly guided her closer to his desk, the Inquisitor moving to shimmy atop its surface, "Heh, I suppose not… I –"
With a loud crash, Isabeau's encroaching arse sent a wine bottle tumbling to shatter on the hard stone of the tower's floor. Her eyes shot to Cullen's, biting her lip in sheepish penitence just as Cullen's arm suddenly shot outward, aggressively sweeping all manner of items off the desk surrounding them. Isabeau sniffed in amusement as she followed her Marshall's lead, wiggling to lay her back flat atop the desk as Cullen moved to settle between her open legs.
"Commander…" she breathed huskily in teasing admonishment, moaning with satisfaction as Cullen brought his lips to the crook of her neck. "I think I'm beginning to understand what Cole was getting at…"
Raising his head from her neck, Cullen scoffed at his own embarrassment as he trailed his eyes over her form beneath him. "I, uh… confess it has crossed my mind on occasion."
"And this… friend of yours in Ferelden," Isabeau relentlessly teased as she exploited their intimate inebriation, cupping Cullen's cheek in her palm as she stared him up at him in mock scrutiny. "Should I be concerned?"
"For pity's sake," Cullen cursed as he dipped his head to Isabeau's chest in defeat. "If you must know… it was my first, uh – visit to Denerim's local brothel. I was… a recruit at one time, too."
"You animal."
Cullen's cheeks reddened further as he brought his lips to crush Isabeau's in retaliation, their kiss deepening as he pressed himself closer against her, his bulk a welcome sensation atop the thickly built Inquisitor. Sighing contentedly through their affections, Isabeau broke away to erotically arch an eyebrow at her Commander.
"How sturdy do you think this desk is, Ser?"
Visibly swallowing, Cullen pulled away from Isabeau to stand next to her prone body, his hands immediately going to the various buckles and laces to his attire. Mimicking Cullen's efforts, Isabeau was soon shimmying out of her tight breeches only to kick them unceremoniously to the floor next to the desk. Utterly exposed to her advisor's view, her chemise wrapped around her waist like a belt, Isabeau shyly bit at her thumb as she moved to enticingly shield herself.
Yanking off his under tunic, Cullen rolled his shoulders as he predatorily drank Isabeau in, leaning to come in and plant a large hand at either side of her head. "We should find out – for, uh, posterity's sake… the quality of the craftsmanship," he chuckled throatily as he came to catch Isabeau's lips, hungrily deepening his affections as his hands moved to the Inquisitor's bare hips.
"As you command, Ser," Isabeau purred as she haltingly pressed a hand to Cullen's chest, pushing the Knight back as she moved to bend herself over the expansive surface, seductively looking over her shoulder at Cullen's clear approval. Alluringly giving her backside a tentative wiggle, Isabeau bit down hard on her bottom lip as she felt Cullen's hands immediately slide up her thighs, pausing to cup her arse's cheeks before coming to a stop at her hips. At the feel of one hand's removal, Isabeau twisted her neck back to beckon Cullen's lips to her own.
"Sweet Maker…" Cullen groaned between his lips as his free hand guided himself into the Inquisitor, Isabeau mewling approvingly as her Knight stretched her. Cullen leaned forward as he buried himself to the hilt, one hand remaining to tightly grasp Isabeau's hip bone while the other reached forward to hook on the edge of the desk.
With great cries of both adoration and need from Isabeau, Cullen's efforts soon escalated to full on pounding, the desk holding firm as it was inched closer and closer to the adjacent wall. Isabeau felt the pressure building with each of Cullen's thrusts; the Commander's own gasps growing more desperate as he took her. With a great moan, she pushed herself upwards until her back was straightened, Isabeau keeping her knees bent and spread as she hovered herself over the edge of the desk.
"Fuck…Isabeau!" Cullen grunted approvingly as his angle deepened, his hands clasped tightly around where the woman's ass and waist met. Not wanting to muffle her screams into the crook of her elbow, Isabeau was reduced to panting as Cullen soon followed her in the blissful release. As the pair toppled exhaustively in a heap, the desk gave a jarring crack in protest, Cullen and Isabeau immediately growing still as they warily waited to see if the furniture would hold.
After several long seconds, Isabeau and Cullen both erupted with snorts of laughter before each released a content sigh, Isabeau grasping to bring Cullen's hand to her lips. "And your verdict?"
"It has…more than adequately satisfied aforementioned curiosities," Cullen teased as he slowly detached himself from her and stood, visibly lethargic as he began to get semi-dressed. As he awkwardly shook out his over-tunic, he shyly glanced Isabeau's way before he chewed on the inside of his cheek. "There's a – ah, loft… up the ladder over there. It would spare us the walk back to our quarters."
"Did they finally patch the roof then?" Isabeau quipped as she stood and gave a great stretch, Cullen pausing in his lazy efforts to loosely tie his breeches as he grew distracted from the sight.
Cullen cleared his throat. "Uh, y-yes… no worries there," he breathed as he patiently stood and waited for her to climb the ladder. Isabeau just caught the sight of Cullen dutifully averting his eyes as she nakedly pulled herself, with her clothes tucked under one arm, up the rungs. With a secret smile to herself over Cullen's charming quirks, she came to the bed and swiftly buried herself under the various coverlets, Cullen soon joining her as he peeled off the last of his clothes. Once also under the blankets and his arm protectively holding Isabeau's smaller frame against his chest, the Inquisitor closed her eyes and began to drift to the sound of his steady heartbeat.
In what felt like the blink of an eye, Isabeau found herself blearily opening her eyes, streams of sunlight now peeking through the narrow windows when before it was the stars. She rubbed tiredly at her eyes, not surprised at the headache and generally shite feeling plaguing her body in that moment.
Turning her head to see Cullen still sleeping soundly next to her, Isabeau fought her self-inflicted debilitation and rose to gingerly collect and pull on her scattered clothes. She wasn't entirely sure what time it was, but she intended on finally having that hot bath; Isabeau determined to soak in comfort before having to face her duties. After leaning to pluck her boots off the floor, she padded back to sit upon the bed, yanking on one of the tedious pairs of footwear.
"Hgnn… N-no! Leave me… leave me!"
Pausing as she worked at tightening her laces, Isabeau turned to reach for Cullen at the sound of his distressed voice. It was not the first morning she had awoken before Cullen only to find him trapped in a dream. Just as Isabeau moved to gently rouse Cullen awake, he suddenly sat up with a gasp, his eyes wide and darting as he panted and looked around the room. Isabeau remained very still as she slowly but encouragingly nodded at Cullen, the Commander's troubled brows soon softening in recognition as he watched her stand and move to where his various decanters sat nearby. She returned with goblet in hand, holding it out for Cullen to take with his thanks.
"Bad dream?"
He swallowed audibly and passed the empty cup back to Isabeau, slowly leaning back down for his head to sink back against the pillows as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "They always are. Without Lyrium… they've become worse."
Isabeau frowned, "Have you been having Solas' tea?"
"Of course, when I have access to it," Cullen pushed himself up into a sitting position as rubbed at his forehead, his palm coming to grind at his bleary eyes. "There wasn't much… opportunity last night, I'm afraid."
"Fair," Isabeau conceded as she looked over Cullen in concern. Looking back on the nights they'd managed to spend together between Andoral's Reach and Hercinia, Isabeau was pained to realize Cullen's sleeping habits had indeed worsened as of late. It was one thing to respect the enormous pressure Cullen shouldered for her, it was another thing entirely to see him suffering for it. "I just… want you to get some proper rest. Maker knows it's only going to grow increasingly sparse for the both of us."
Cullen's face briefly darkened as his eyebrows began to furrow. "I didn't mean to worry you," he entreated, a slight alarm to his tone as he cupped Isabeau's cheek in his palm.
"Despite the dreams… and the hang over, good morning?" she tentatively questioned, shyly averting her gaze from Cullen's before he moved to press his forehead to hers, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.
"You are…" Cullen faltered as a gasp of gratified incredulity broke his speech, Isabeau grinning like an idiot at her Knight's humble affections. "Heh. I have never… felt anything like this before."
"I love you, you know that, right?"
"I love you, too," Cullen professed as they shared another kiss, Cullen sighing contentedly as he laid back upon the bed. Just as Isabeau finished the last buckle on her boots, the pair were startled by the sound of the door below being opened and then shut. Like guilty teenagers, Isabeau and Cullen muffled their sniggering as they went completely still on the bed.
"Cullen?"
Relieved to hear it was only Cassandra, Isabeau climbed off the bed and popped her head over the railing to look where the Seeker stood on the floor below.
"If you're here, then it is safe to assume the Commander is as well?" Casandra dryly asked as she waited for Isabeau to slide down the ladder, the Inquisitor landing with a slight thud as her boots hit the stone floor.
"He'll be… down shortly," she lamely offered as she followed Cassandra towards Cullen's desk. As her companion made to lean against the office piece for their wait, Isabeau blinked away the pervasive memories that inconveniently assaulted her, trying to cover the blush upon her chest as she regarded Cassandra.
"Is something the matter?"
Cassandra handed Isabeau the report in her hands, "Forgive the early… interruption, but I've had word from Sister Nightingale. We have had direct contact from the Quinari… I was hoping we could discuss our options with Bull before proceeding," Cassandra explained while Isabeau idly flipped through and scanned the various pages, Cullen now appearing at the bottom of the ladder and awkwardly nodding his greeting as he came to join them.
"Where is Bull sleeping now?" Isabeau asked in legitimate curiosity.
"Apparently he's taken residence in one of the towers over from this one; if he was not already in the Tavern, I would start looking there," Cullen explained as he led the way, the small party briskly walking across the wide battlement as Cullen accepted the report from Isabeau. His walking slowed as his eyes rapidly trailed down several pages of the documents, the Commander frowning as he thought aloud. "I was… wary of the reports Bull sends and receives, but to potentially ally with the Quinari? It's unheard of."
"Let us not be premature in our assumptions, Commander…" Cassandra began evenly before a sergeant jogged up to her, the Seeker shrugging apologetically as she soon had a new report in hand. "Go ahead, this will only take a moment."
Isabeau and Cullen both nodded their assent as they continued, Cullen soon reaching to push open the tower's door, the hinges squealing loudly in protest as Isabeau followed directly behind him. "Bull, we've had a report from – Oh!" Cullen' arms shot up to block the view before him, slips of parchment loosely cascading from the board of the report to the floor as Cullen repurposed it for a shield."Sweet Maker…" he breathed in puzzled awe as Isabeau peeked from behind Cullen's back.
"How…?" She muttered stupidly as she gaped at the fully nude Quinari before them, Cullen helpfully extending his reach with the report in his hand to block Isabeau's view.
"Cullen! Inquisitor! How's it going?" Bull barked casually, Isabeau failing to suppress her delighted grin as a half-dressed Scout Harding also appeared from behind a screen nearby, the Dwarf smirking defiantly at the interrupting duo.
"Inquisitor," Harding purred in greeting as she moved to sit closer to where Bull lounged, tutting at her own state of undress. "I must have jinxed myself last night. This, um…"
As Isabeau struggled to keep her eyes trained on Harding and not on the whole lot of Quinari surrounding the tough Scout, Josephine's voice rang out as she, too, appeared at the door. "Oh good, you're all here. About the Quinari, I thought perhaps we should –"
Whatever Josephine thought was lost as the Ambassador was reduced to a symphony of squeaks and sputters, her face going uncharacteristically blank. "I… I cannot move my legs," she chirped in desperate capitulation, Isabeau swinging back behind Cullen in retreat to cup a stifling hand over her mouth as she nearly lost it.
"I'm… so sorry," Cullen sputtered awkwardly as Isabeau finally managed to compose herself, moving away from her hiding spot to shoot a furtive wink at the unexpected couple, feeling the worst of her immaturity dissipate as she crossed her arms before the lusty pair.
"You really were flirting the whole time?"
"That's just the foreplay, Boss…" Bull growled cockily. "Now, how about you –"
Cassandra suddenly strode between Cullen and Josephine, "Is something the matt-UH?!" Exploding into a strangled cry of surprise, Cassandra visibly recoiled as her hands twitched towards her face chest.
"Oh, for fuck's sake!"
Harding hummed her agreement with Bull's sentiments. "Shit, you weren't kidding. Sometimes I have a hard time believing this shit actually happens after being in the field for so long..."
"I believe that's five silvers you owe me."
As Harding moved to shake her breeches free of any coin, Cassandra audibly scoffed in interruption, turning to look at the others disbelievingly. "Do you see this?"
"No!" Cullen answered immediately.
The Seeker shook her head in confusion, "So, I take it –"
Bull haltingly raised his hand then pointed at the bent-over Harding, "Actually, she's the one who's been taking it."
Isabeau nearly gave herself whiplash at the speed her head turned towards the sound of Cullen's quiet but unexpected sniggering. Her mouth moving but words failing to form, Isabeau stepped forward to gently turn Cassandra around, flashing an apologetic smile the couple's way. "We're… so sorry for interrupting your uh… diversions. Be a dove, Bull… and ah, come and speak with me when you are ready?"
"Nothing… wrong with a bit of fun," Cullen offered as he quickly dared a glance in farewell, turning to leave as Josephine hesitated in the door frame.
"Who wouldn't be a little curious?"
"Josie!" Isabeau laughed, turning to shoo the stunned Antivan away, Cassandra nodding one more time in apology before she followed swiftly behind the departing Ambassador. After assuring her advisor's she'd find them in the War Room shortly, Isabeau returned to be alone with Bull and Harding, the three awkwardly chuckling amongst themselves. Isabeau fished into her pocket to drop five silvers into Bull's awaiting hand.
Clucking disapprovingly, Bull shook his great horned head at Isabeau. "Wrong, Inquisitor; five more and then we're even."
"And why is that?"
"You lost with Harding, too. I couldn't make up half the shit that happens to us if I wanted to – and I don't just mean the dragons and demons..." Tucking his arms behind his head, Bull sunk further into the plush bed. "People just being people; weird sometimes… But the weird ones tend to be more fun."
"To be fair, I argued you were perhaps exaggerating our party's….idiosyncrasies…" Isabeau trailed off as she considered the night and morning's combined hijinks, bemusedly rubbing at her forehead with her hand as her gaze fell on nothing in particular. "…I'm not sure how I feel about it."
Harding giggled as she reached for a goblet sitting upon the stand nearby, taking a measured sip of the wine as she thoughtfully met Isabeau's gaze. "The job that I do, Inquisitor? Sometimes it's easy to forget about the people. Peculiar as they all can be, I'm not sorry I lost that bet; it's refreshing to see what makes everyone worth gambling on."
"A… unique perspective," Isabeau acquiesced warmly as she considered the Dwarf's choice of words, shaking her head with appreciation as she turned to lean against the door frame, somberly levelling her gaze on the pair. "Seriously though, Bull. Something is up with your friends back home – kindly see that you're in the War Room within the hour. And Harding? Get ready to mobilize," Isabeau commanded evenly as she turned and left, heading for the stairs that lead to the main hall of Skyhold.
"Inquisitor!" Isabeau paused as the plucky Scout strode towards her from Bull's quarters, "Look, it's gonna burn my ass if I don't ask. What… was your other bet with Bull?"
Isabeau blew a raspberry in half-assed chagrin, crossing her arms as she smirked sardonically at the awaiting Dwarf. "Harding, just… use your imagination. With Iron Bull… you won't have to stretch it very far."
Harding didn't miss a beat as she sardonically cocked her eyebrow, "Oh, I beg to differ, Inquisitor."
A different and near forgotten dam suddenly burst within Isabeau; one that had not been overburdened in longer than she cared to admit. As she clapped Harding on the shoulder and descended the stairs in a fit of laughter, she stopped to impulsively sit and just admire the sword and shield she truly wielded, losing track of time as she idly watched the Keep's various denizens go about their daily routines. A sweet melody teased its way from the depths of her lungs, the Inquisitor softly humming as she absently gazed over the yard.
"You want to help take their pain away. I want to help, too. Same but not," Cole startled Isabeau as he suddenly appeared at her side, the Spirit visibly confused as he scrutinized her. "What… are you?"
Fighting a sudden plummeting sensation, Isabeau slowly tipped forwards as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself, a slight shiver coursing through her as she tried to mask it as the cold. Bit pointless, really, with Cole. Scowling at her own chiding, Isabeau turned her head to meet the young man's intense stare, releasing a weary sigh as she shook her head in regret.
"Oh, Cole… if you're asking me that, I'm afraid you'll find no better answers from me."
"Someone has the answers. We will find them; we have to."
Just as Isabeau moved to reassure the Spirit, he was suddenly gone, Isabeau chewing at her lower lip as she contemplated the exchange in his absence. Taking a deep breath, she rose and made way for her War Room, soon walking down the long hall lined with tall, arched windows. Stopping to carefully steady herself against the great main door, Isabeau sucked in a deep, steadying breath then reached for the handle.
Her advisors voices greeted her in unison, "Inquisitor."
"Let us begin," Isabeau commanded sternly as she hesitated in front of the map, her hands splayed across it when her eyes suddenly narrowed, Isabeau reaching to slide markers from each of her advisor's camps to meet on a single location: Val Royeaux. With a deep breath, she pushed away from the map and began to pace as she considered her reasoning. "It is time we formally introduce ourselves to the Chantry, I think; I will not see my efforts at ending the Rebellion be for naught. If successful, we also gain a considerably powerful and united force for the Inquisition." Isabeau slowly raised her marked hand to her face, green Fade energy flickering eerily as she continued, "I have… also spoken with Solas and I agree that we need to lean on their collective abilities… and make a final assault on the Breach."
Cullen slowly shook his head as he considered what she proposed, "This… will take significant resources, Inquisitor."
"Is it not what we have resources for, Cullen?"
Clearly opting to swallow Isabeau's light but flippant retort, Cullen straightened back to attention as Josephine rapidly flipped through her various parchments at his side. With a cry of relief, she pulled out and passed a communication amongst them as she turned to Isabeau, "We actually received a formal invitation from a group of Revered Mothers…" The Ambassador trailed off as she awkwardly cringed, "Well, invitation is not the right word - but, it is official cause to… pursue our interests."
"Then let us meet with these Mothers… hope there is compromise to be found," Isabeau adjusted her own posture as she stood and proudly beamed at her advisors. "Dismissed."
With a shallow bow each, Leliana and Josephine swiftly departed in opposite directions of the Keep, Isabeau left alone with Cullen in the now empty War Room.
"I will do my best to be ready for –" Cullen began to assure her, Isabeau shushing him mid-sentence as she pressed a finger to his lips. Keeping her one hand on the perplexed Knight's face, the other reached and gave a sudden great shake of the war table, various markers toppling over in the wake.
Cullen cried out in exasperation and made to immediately replace the various items when Isabeau slipped in front of him, both her hands coming to give the table one more assuring shake as she rocked her hips into Cullen's groin.
"Maker Isabeau, what are you doing?" Cullen tenderly admonished, both his hands coming to push back the hair in her face before planting a soft kiss to her forehead. With a jerk, Cullen was suddenly ensnared in Isabeau's legs, simultaneously yanked against her and the table as the couple toppled backwards.
"This is perhaps the most critical surface in all of Skyhold…" Isabeau began huskily, gliding her lips over the stubble of his jawline. Cullen groaned his agreement, his hands slowly pushing their way up her ribs to tickle her under her chemise.
"For… sturdiness?" Cullen asked, his voice hiking in uncertainty as he warily tested his boldness.
"…For sturdiness," Isabeau purred lustfully in confirmation as she began to grind herself against Cullen's bulk; her lips finding his as she tried to silence her nagging scruples over her soaring audacity, fighting to simply lose herself in the sensations instead.
The distinct sound of a tongue clucking disapprovingly filled the room, "Alright. You won this bet, Boss."
Cullen and Isabeau both suddenly froze at the sound of the gruff voice, mortified as Bull appeared and levelled his great head with theirs upon the table, a shit-eating grin wide across his face as he slammed several silver coins down. With a hearty rolling laugh, Bull disappeared as soon as he arrived, leaving the scandalous couple to stew in the irony of the situation. Cullen's lips sputtered as he flicked his confused and humiliated glare expectantly Isabeau's way, the Inquisitor offering little more than a beyond sheepish shrug in defense.
"You… don't ask about the bet; I…. don't ask about the storage closet."
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A/N: Just an unbridled fluffy fun chapter as penance for my abysmal update schedule – shit will get real going forward. Thank you for reading and yay, I like reading your reviews :) Should you get the time, it would be a pleasure to read more!
And Merry Christmas!