"Gratitude looks to the Past and love to the Present"
The Screwtape Letters ~ C.S. Lewis
Adan trod over the icy ground as quickly as his legs could carry him. The snowdrifts stirred over his path as the wind whipped through his cloak. Firmly ensconced beneath his arm was his leather-bound apothecary's case, filled with flasks, vials, and solutions. It was the only thing at that moment ensuring that he would reach his destination unhindered. When he arrived at the main hall of the fortress, he could hear the dulcet tones of a lute, a silvery voice singing to guests sitting before the remains of what appeared to have been a lavish dinner: platters littered with bird carcasses, table cloths stained with deep reds and earthy browns. A pleasant beverage-induced torpor appeared to have settled over the assembled guests. The occasional burst of laughter echoed through the hall as he discretely kept to the outside of the tables, walking along the walls, trying to blend in with the busy waitstaff. Ambassador Montilyet's keen hazel eyes followed him with interest as he approached the guards keeping watch over the large door close to the Inquisitor's throne.
The guards observed him blandly. He wondered how often they crossed their lances in front of people's faces each day.
"The Inquisitor has sent for me," he declared.
He obligingly fished out his Grand Alchemist's medallion from beneath his robe, hoisting it up around his neck to show them. One of the guards nodded and disappeared inside. He waited impatiently as the music droned on and the remaining guard openly stared at him. After several moments, the door creaked open, and from behind it emerged the hooded figure of the spymaster, Leliana. She beckoned him inside. Once the guards had secured the door behind them, she led him up another staircase and through a narrower doorway with another set of guards.
"Thank you for coming at such short—and late— notice!" she said appreciatively. She offered him a slight smile. "You can imagine how annoyed she is with me for making you come out here at this time."
"I don't mind in the least," he said earnestly.
He would never forget, for as long as he lived and breathed, that it had been the Inquisitor's face, sooty, sweaty, and bloodied, that emerged from the smoke as he lay in the path of imminent death. Combat raged around them, the flames rising and scorching the heavy wood pillar that had collapsed over him and Minaeve that night in Haven. Even as the others screamed for her to seek safety in the Chantry, she clasped his hand tightly and, peering into his eyes, firmly reassured him that she would not leave without them. He had trembled and wept like a terrified child, the explosions shattering the barracks near them. He remembered how the Seeker rallied to her side, helping her lift the pillar and then aided him back to his feet. Since then, anything Inquisitor Trevelyan and Seeker Pentaghast needed from him, he was more than ready to provide. It was the least he could do, he concluded.
The spymaster opened a final door to a staircase leading into a pleasant, open room. Bookcases sat in one corner behind a desk covered in papers, a haphazard pile of books, scrolls, and several empty cups. The fire crackled and Adan politely bowed as the Inquisitor attempted to raise herself up in the bed.
"Master Adan!" she greeted him. "I told them I could wait until morning," she told him apologetically.
"You are miserable," Leliana insisted crossly. She turned to him. "She can't take a deep breath without feeling pain."
Adan nodded, setting his case next to him him on the bed. He sat beside her, on the thick, down-stuffed cover. He couldn't help letting his eyes wander to her hand, seeking the mesmerizing glowing mark, a direct connection to the Fade. Since Haven, when not in the presence of a rift, it remained merely a ragged, angry red scar slashed across her palm.
"I fight Darkspawn, Venatori, Red Templars, almost face off with a dragon before I fall down a precipice into the Fade…but what does me in is a clumsy spill off a horse." She leaned back into her pillows. "Two broken ribs," she lamented.
"Let's see," Adan urged her.
She unbuttoned her nightshirt. He noticed her fingers brush over a necklace, a small silver medallion glinting in the firelight. It appeared to depict the serene face of a woman— perhaps Andraste? Upon examining her, he frowned: the physician had wrapped her torso. He tugged at the wrap.
"This is no good. It has to come off," he said commandingly. "If you are struggling to take a deep breath, then this will make it worse." He removed the wraps carefully and saw the deep bruise on her lower left ribcage. Leliana stepped in closer to observe and winced at the sight.
"May I?" he asked, rubbing his hands together.
"Please," she acquiesced.
The spell emanating from his fingertips vibrated softly. As he traced his hand over her ribcage, the vibrations he cast resonated back to him—a steady, consistent hum, until his fingers trailed over the bruised area. Where the bone had been fractured, the hum was disrupted. He removed his hands and reached for his case, plucking out the flask he'd prepared earlier.
"Take ten drops of this, diluted in a half cup of fresh water, as needed, but not to exceed four times a day. The nerves will be numbed, diminishing the pain. But also, this has a transmutation that will bind to the fracture and form a protective barrier around—"
"Fascinating!" the Inquisitor interrupted. "What is the alchemical transmutation?" she asked, genuinely interested. "Must involve spagyrics…" she concluded conspiratorially.
Adan couldn't help grinning for a brief moment. Another reason he admired the Inquisitor: she had dabbled a bit in hermetic studies at her Circle in Ostwick and could appreciate his skills. He remembered how she had enthusiastically assailed him with questions when they first met at Haven, going as far as searching for old Master Taigen's missing notes for him, an innocent excitement in her face when she surprised him with the rediscovered papers. Leliana's eyes appeared to glaze over as he explained the painstaking process behind creating the flask.
"Ordinarily, it would take six weeks for the fracture to heal, but if you take this elixir at least twice a day, you should be healed in two," he explained.
She glanced at Leliana.
"Well, Josephine will be relieved! The ball is in three weeks."
"You focus on getting better and I will handle Josie…" Leliana poured water into an earthenware cup on the nightstand and added a few drops from the flask.
"Yes…Please do. I can't engage in combat in a flouncy dress," the Inquisitor grumbled.
"You may resume light activity after this week," Adan added. "I'll come back to verify your progress in a couple of days."
Leliana handed her the cup of water.
"You are a treasure, Master Adan," the Inquisitor nodded to him, smacking her lips after taking a sip of the medicine. "Thank you."
He packed his case wordlessly, nagging himself to summon the courage to make his request. He knew the timing was wrong and it would be a blatant imposition on his part.
"Inquisitor…I have something to ask you, if I may be so bold," he ventured.
She handed the empty cup back to Leliana.
"Right now may not be the best time," the spymaster said pointedly.
The Inquisitor waved her hand dismissively.
"No, no…It's fine. Please, Master Adan. What is troubling you?"
"I am concerned about my assistant at the dispensary…Tonight, two templars came for her and took her away. She is a mage and they are accusing her of blood magic…I am worried for her…" he stated contritely, avoiding her eyes. "I need to know that she is alright."
"That is a serious charge," she said pensively. "Do you think there is any truth to it?"
"I can't imagine it being so," he said faintly.
"Then allow me to reassure you," she continued gently. "They are called templars only for the lack of a better name right now, but know they are no longer associated to the Chantry's templars as we knew them. They are part of the Skyhold Guard and they are here to protect us- mages included. I am sure that your assistant is being treated properly. She'll be given an opportunity to defend herself."
It's not enough, he thought sadly, not daring to ask for more.
"I appreciate it, Inquisitor," he said politely but hastily. He seized his case and with a stiff bow began to make his way out.
"Master Adan—wait!" she called after him. He halted at the steps. The Inquisitor turned to Leliana. "When is Cullen…" She stopped, correcting herself, much to Leliana's amusement, "Commander Cullen— supposed to return?"
"He had to debrief the soldiers who returned from Emprise du Lion before they could return to their duties. Another hour, perhaps? I can't imagine he'll be much longer. He's probably with the cartographer in the War Room as we speak."
"Send him a note asking him to look into this matter for me…to ensure all those procedures we implemented are being followed…as a favor…to a friend of mine," she smiled at Adan.
"Of course." She sat behind the Inquisitor's desk and reached for a quill. "What is the assistant's name?"
"Ava Meverell," he enunciated clearly.
"You will have news of your assistant before morning," the Inquisitor assured him.
Adan nodded appreciatively and lowered his head, slightly flustered.
"Thank you," he whispered, only hinting at the gratitude she inspired in him.