Part 6
Choices and Reunions
The weather in Skyhold was turning. Astlyr noticed it as she and her people rode back across the long bridge which was the main point of access. The air still held the wintry bite that it had in Emprise De Leon. She noticed that carts were parked beside the doors to the kitchens. Nearby farmers selling winter supplies to the fortress, as it looked as though Skyhold was going to remain occupied for some time.
"What happened?!" Cullen rushed to meet them, even as a young stable-hand took the reigns of Astlyr's mount. Josie followed behind the warrior, a look of concern on her delicate features. "The guards on the walls saw you coming, but we didn't know you'd have wounded." Cullen held up his good arm and Astlyr let Cole slide down to him. Cullen pulled the spirit boy's arm over his shoulder, bearing much of Cole's weight as Astlyr dismounted.
"I will be fine," the spirit boy reassured Cullen at once.
"I'm certain you will be," the warrior gave the boy a quick smile before he cast concerned eyes over the group.
"Astlyr and Cassandra are burned," Cole reported, helpfully as Astlyr took him into her arms again and began carrying him towards the hold, followed by the others. "Iron Bull has wounds on his legs and Dorian is exhausted."
"Apparently I'm fine," Varric said with mock annoyance.
"You are fine, except you are worried about me and the others," said Cole, turning to look over Astlyr's shoulder at the procession following them.
As they passed the farm carts on the way to the infirmary Astlyr gave them a glancing once over. The produce looked to be good quality, and she hoped that the cook was bartering a decent price for them. Not that Skyhold was destitute, but Astlyr had spent much of her life with only a few coppers to rub together, so she was ever vigilant for good bargaining. She also hoped that they were storing up enough food. There was no telling how many would stay in the fortress over the winter. She knew many of the mages she had liberated already planned to stay, especially with the new research tower that was nearing completion. It would serve as both quarters and college for the magcially gifted of the fortress and surrounding lands.
"Maker bless us!" the head healer, whose name was Audra, looked up from her desk as Cole and the others came in. She was a short, slender woman, with close cut blond hair and fierce eyes. She commanded her infirmary with the skill of a military leader. Two novice healers rushed to help lower the injured spirit boy onto the bed.
"I see he didn't happen to wake up while we were gone," Astlyr looked over to where where the elven man lay. She could just make out the steady rising and falling of his narrow chest.
Myfanway stood and looked the sorry adventurers over. "Did you find the artifact?"
"Yes," Astlyr said, a little annoyed at the elf's clear priorities, "at at no small cost to my men." She reached into her pouch and pulled out of the frog statue. She willingly passed it to Myfanwy, who eyed it with as much distrust as Astlyr felt around it.
"Mmnnnh," Cole made a sound which Astlyr thought was pain as the healers unwound his bandages to put on fresh. But the boy seemed to have forgotten his wounds and was staring at the frog.
"What is it, Cole?" Astlyr asked, as a young apprentice healer ushered her to a bed beside Cas. The other woman was already having salve applied to several impressive burns. Astlyr winced to look at them. Her natural Qunari toughness had protected her from the brunt of what Cassandra had suffered. She shot an apprizing glance at the rest of her team. Dorian had been placed in a chair by the fire, covered in a blanket, and had a warm drink pressed into his hands. He gave her a nod to confirm that he was alright. Bull had sustained deeper cuts than he had let on, and he sat quietly as an intimidated looking man pressed poultices onto the wounds.
Cole seemed to be staring down the statue, "I didn't notice it in the cave," he admitted. "I was distracted. I'm sorry."
"Cole, there were spikes sticking through parts of your body. You were allowed to be distracted," Astlyr reassured the boy.
"That thing...it seems wrong. I can feel sadness. Like a cloud of smoke. Like death. Maybe many deaths. It sticks, like oil," a look of concentration came over his thin face, "I did not mean to come here. Why am I here? No. No, I do not want this! No, this is a mistake! Please let me go!" When he finished he was almost screaming the words and Cullen had to snap him out of it by grabbing his arm, though gently.
"Well, that sounded reassuring," Astlyr said, eying the statue. Myfanwy had set it down and stepped back from it, arms folded. "That was a very strong feeling, Cole."
"A memory, still clinging to the idol," Cole clarified as the healers finished their bandaging. At once the pale young man made as if to move.
"Wait now," Cullen held him back, "where do you think you're going?"
"Cassandra is in pain. I can help," the spirit boy explained, matter-of-factly.
"Cole, I am alright," the warrior woman reassured him. "The healers are doing a good job,"
A healer was finishing applying a cooling salve to Astlyr's neck where she had been burned. "Would you remove your shirt ma'am?"
Astlyr did so without second thought as she pondered the idol. Like Cassandra she bound herself down with strips of cloth. No good having feminine parts flopping around during battle. Both women had tough bodies with hard muscle and a patchwork of scars, though Astlyr was slightly more impressive, being a qunari. She had far fewer burns on her torso than Cas had sustained, and none were serious. Cassandra's worst burns were on her arms and one on her cheek.
Cole allowed Cullen to press him back onto the bed. He still watched his fellows with obvious concern. Varric walked over and prodded the idol with a crossbow bolt. "Did we just bring home something else potentially evil?"
"Possibly," Astlyr admitted, her brows coming together. "We need Morrigan down here."
"I'll get someone to fetch her," Josephine said, turning to the door.
"So, what did happen to you? You obviously succeeded in your mission, but what's this about a cave and spikes? Clearly there was also fire involved," Cullen looked from one party member to the next.
Some of the guards drew closer to hear the tale of the adventure as well. They were clearly eager to hear it first hand, so they could share it with their friends at the end of their shift. Perhaps they would brag that they heard it from the Inquisitor herself. Astlyr made certain to make eye contact with the guards as she related the events, so they would feel included. This seemed to cheer them immensely and some even mustered the courage to ask a question or two.
By the time the beautiful mage reached the infirmary Astlyr's party was bandaged, rehydrate and warmed. Dorian especially looked much healthier when he was offered a few fresh biscuits from the kitchens. His usual energy seemed to be returning and he walked over to join the main group, which were gathered around the bed of the elf (save Cole, who lay still in his own bed, watching).
"Is this the artifact you were looking for?" Astlyr asked, holding up the frog.
Morrigan took the object and her eyes grew wide with a cat-like look of excitement which made Astlyr more than a little uneasy. "This is it indeed," the mage smiled. "This is an item of great power. If used properly it can even restore a god."
"You seem certain that a god is what we have here," Cassandra said, as a healer helped her into a loose cotton shirt. "I have heard tales of demons causing people to fall asleep. Then the demon drains their energy as they slumber, whither, and eventually die. Are we about to give power to something like that?"
Several of the guards looked suddenly wary and hands strayed to sword hilts and staves.
"If it is a demon, I am certain we can contain it," Morrigan said, with much more reassurance than anyone else seemed to feel.
"He is not a demon," Myfanwy asserted, clearly weary of constantly reassuring everyone of this. She glared at the untrusting faces then turned to Morrigan with eagerness. "How do we use it?"
"It is quite simple," Morrigan brought the idol over to the bed where the supposed Fen'Harel lay. She pulled over a chair and set the frog on it. Her hands sparked with magic. It reflected her in her yellow, dragon-like eyes. Astlyr could not help but envision the creature that Morrigan could transform into. Crouched like a cat, massive wings folded as it hungrily looked over its prey. "I will activate the idol with magic and..." Morrigan sent the grasping fingers of a spell towards the idol. It shimmered bright green. Fade green, Astlyr recognized, leaning forward with curious anticipation, even as her hand clasped on her sword hilt. Then there was a glimmer in front of the frog, and as they all watched, a miniature Fade rift opened, hovering before the open mouth of the statue.
"What the hell?" Varric exhaled.
"Is this dangerous?" Astlyr asked, her hand prickling as she felt her mark activate. It was eager to seal the tiny rift, as she had so many times with the large ones that had covered the continent.
"The rift cannot grow any larger," Morrigan reassured them. Still, most of the healers and Fen'Harel's guard detail backed away, looking towards Astlyr for reassurance. This was her area of expertise after all.
"So what does it do with the little rift?" asked Cassandra, her sharp features bound in a suspicious expression. She had already drawn her own blade, which had been sheathed beside her on a bed, and the keen metal reflected the emerald light.
"The idol will pull power from the Fade and then go where I command it." Morrigan explained as though she thought them a little slow.
"And you will command it to go to him, right Morrigan?" Astlyr questioned, pulling off her glove to bear her anchor marked hand. She knew that the mage had a lust for power. The second Morrigan made a move to do something besides give the energy to the young man on the bed, Astlyr knew she could close her fingers and seal the tiny rift. She could sense how easy it would be, after all her experience with larger ones.
"No spirits will come through?" asked Dorian.
"Oh, of course they will. Where do you think the power comes from?" Morrigan sounded pleased. "Spirits are drawn to the idol and it devours them, then passes their energy on."
"It kills them?" Cole's voice was sharp and already had an edge to it. Astlyr shot the boy a glance before turning her attention back to the idol.
"Does it kill the spirits that come through?" Astlyr asked.
"It devours them, so I imagine they are dead. Or more accurately, destroyed." Morrigan said, with a tinge of annoyance to her voice. It was clear she was eager to begin.
"But good spirits could die!" Cole gasped.
"The majority of spirits in the Fade are what we would consider evil, or perhaps troublesome," Morrigan said in a calming tone, "There is a chance that a spirit such as kindness or wisdom may be devoured as well, but it is a risk we must take to waken our god-friend."
"No, Astlyr, don't let her!" Cole begged, scooting to the side of his bed and trying to rise. As soon as he had achieved his feet his wounded leg gave out under him and he crumpled to the floor.
Dorian reached Cole first, helping the boy up and back onto the bed. The spirit sat on the edge of the mattress, staring at Astlyr with a look so intense she was certain she could feel it in her chest. She stepped back a pace, "no. I don't think so. I cannot kill a good spirit, even by accident."
"You are being foolish," Morrigan snapped. "Do you want this man awakened or not?"
"He can wake up on his own. I won't kill spirits," Astlyr said, fiercely. She held out her hand, felt the familiar jab on pain in her palm as a green tendril sliced through the air like lightning and connected with the tiny Fade rift. All it took was the twitch of her fingers and a gentle motion of her wrist to close it. "I'm sorry," she said, addressing the assemblage as a whole. "I put us through a lot of trouble for nothing. Someone call Dagna to collect this artifact. Perhaps she can study how it works and help us come up with a new strategy for waking Fen'Harel."
Myfanwy's face was twisted in anger, but she seemed to be biting her own tongue to keep silent. Astlyr was not certain what the elf might have tried, had she not been surrounded by such intimidating company. A few of the guards muttered confused remarks, but for the most part the others seemed to agree with her decision.
"I didn't like the idea of pumping that thing full of power, dead spirits or no," Cassandra admitted.
"Astlyr doesn't want spirits to die," Cole said, his voice was firm and hinted at admiration.
"I spent a good deal of time talking with Solas about spirits and the Fade," Astlyr said. "he told me that it is affected by our world. That good spirits are growing few because the power of our hate, our greed, our malice, it bleeds in. I can't risk what good remains on the chance that we will only kill evil spirits."
"You are foolish," Morrigan said, though she seemed resigned. "May I join your artificer in the study of the idol?"
Astlyr did not like the idea of the witch having access to something so powerful, but she was uncertain how to articulate this. "I don't trust her. She seeks power. Like a hungry calling clawing at her belly. She always wants what is just beyond her reach." Cole filled in.
"If that is how you feel," Morrigan had a smirk on her lips, but she dipped her head in ascent. "I can be patient. If you have a need to waste my time again, you know where I will be," she turned and left the room with her elegant, unhurried gait.
Astlyr winced, "you aren't very diplomatic, Cole. Then again, neither am I." She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck and looking down at the idol. Her eyes drifted to the elvish man on the bed. She had not looked at him closely since the day he had taken in whatever spirit resided in the dead bird. She made a quick study of his features. Delicate and pale, the sign of a pure-blooded elf. His eyes were closed so she could not see if they were as green as she remembered. The young man's dark curls fell over a face clear of the elvish tattoos. He looked small in the bed, but there was still a life to his features, as though he slumbered lightly. As if any second his dark lashes would part and he would waken. Out of curiosity she snapped her fingers in front of his face, but he did not flinch. His expression remained passive and still. Perfect repose.
"Maybe a handsome prince needs to kiss him. Like in the old tales," Varric said, obviously trying to lighten the mood. A few guards chuckled nervously.
"We'll figure out how to wake him," Astlyr reassured a still glaring Myfanwy. "A way that doesn't kill anyone."
A mage came in to take the idol to Dagna, who had set herself up with a research station in the new tower.
Astlyr and her friends enjoyed a meal which was brought to them in the infirmary. Then Josie pressured Astlyr to get some of her mounting paperwork finished. The qunari retired to her quarters and gave it her best effort, but she was worn out from the day, and her bandages were already starting to itch, and she was just too irritable to focus. She slumped back her in her chair as her eyes grew heavier. Outside the sun was settling down amongst the mountains, bathing the snow in red like blood, inching over the land. Astlyr knew it was early to go to bed, with the day light hours growing shorter, but her chin slumped to her chest and her eyelids became too heavy for her to possibly manage.
"Fen'Harel, where are you?" She considered whistling, the way she would have called for her old hound, Dash. She slapped her leg without thinking, "Come here, Fen'Harel." She stopped herself. She had probably dishonored him and now he would never come to her.
This time as she walked and looked for her canine dream companion she was wading in shallow, blackish water. It was cold, and unpleasant, and she shuddered at the creeping feeling of it soaking up her legs. Almost like grasping, icy hands. She made sure to keep moving. There were no rocks to settle on now. Only water and sad, twisted little trees with no leaves. If she focused on the trees for too long they began to look more like bodies, propped upright in positions of abject agony. The Fade was such a cheerful place.
Then she heard it. The roar of a dragon. She looked around but there was nowhere to hide, and she had no weapons. She still wore the simple, unfamiliar garb she always seemed to be wearing in the Fade these days. The dragon sounded close, so much so that she could hear the beating of its wings. She began to run, eyes desperately seeking cover. Though part of her mind knew that this was only a dream, and her body was safe at Skyhold, her instincts ran wild here. Taking control and leading her on.
The dragon's roar echoed in her head and she cast her gaze upward, certain it was right above her, but she saw nothing. Then she saw it. It appeared before her with a suddenness that made her trip as she struggled to stop running. She landed on all fours in the cold water before the beast. It shimmered like light on glass, wavering as though it was made of smoke. It blinked huge, yellow eyes at her. Then it reared back its head and laughed. She had never heard a dragon laugh, and in the Fade everything sounded wrong. She found herself unable to rise , even as she jerked her hands free of the grasping waters.
Her hand glowed green and stabbed with a familiar pain. And the wolf was beside her. He stood, blue eyes narrowed as he watched the dragon. He did not seem afraid, but scrutinized the creature, his velvety ears pinned back. Astlyr instinctively reached out to touch the wolf. Her hand was clumsy and she grabbed a handful of his thick fur. He did not seem to mind, but turned to look at her. Then his pink tongue emerged and he licked her on the cheek.
The dragon stopped laughing.
Knock knock knock, "Ma'am, are you in there? Inquisitor Adaar?"
Astlyr work with a jerk. A piece of paper was stuck to her cheek with drool. She hurried grabbed it away and blinked as the new morning lit her rooms. "Owww," she grumbled, straightening with a palm to her lower back. Why the hell did she let herself fall asleep in her chair? She was already fast forgetting the laughing dragon and the wolf of her dreams.
"Ma'am?" called the voice outside her door again.
"Yes, I'm here. Come in, it's unlocked." Astlyr shouted as she made an effort to pull a few wrinkles from her shirt. She glanced at a mirror and groaned in dismay. There were words on her cheek where the ink had left its mark.
A guardswoman came in and clearly stifled a chuckle at her leader's disheveled state. Astlyr wiped furiously at her cheek with a rag, dampened with morning-cold water from her basin. "Yes?" she asked, trying to sound serious, and failing. She knew she looked ridiculous. Some intimidating qunari she was, with white hair tangled and messy and ink all over her face.
The guard's eyes twinkled with mirth as she spoke, "The healers have asked for you. Your bandages need changing and they also wanted to ask you a favor."
"Alright," Astlyr said. Having wiped away the last of the black ink she ripped a brush through her stick straight, waist length hair and bundled it into a hasty bun. The guard watched, standing politely just inside the door. "Is it difficult?" she asked after a moment, "putting your hair up with the horns in the way?"
Astlyr pondered this. She did have to moved carefully to avoid them, and sometimes a strand or two would become wound around a horn and take forever to untangle. "I suppose. I've always had horns, so I hardly notice."
"I see," the guardswoman nodded, a pleasant smile on her homely features. She turned and began escorting Astlyr out of the room.
"You're the same guard who fetched me the other night," Astlyr recognized as they walked. "When Sera was having her...meltdown."
"I was," the guardswoman looked pleased to be recognized.
"What's your name?" Astlyr questioned. Iron Bull had once taken her to secretly speak with some of her people one night, to show her the importance of everyone around her. Astlyr had decided to make an effort to know them better. As Verric would say, 'everyone has a story.'
"Jones, Ma'am. Esther Jones." the guard answered.
"You've a Ferelden accent, Esther Jones."
"Yes Ma'am. Born and bred in Redcliff. Why I even have a few memories of the blight, though mostly its the undead that I recall best."
"It always seems to be undead doesn't it," Astlyr joked.
"It does," the guard nodded, knowingly. "I caught sight of the Hero of Ferelden though." she had a proud look in her eyes.
"Did you?" Astlyr was impressed.
"Indeed. I was holed up in a house with the other women and children, but I saw her. She was a fierce fighter that one. And she had a qunari beside her, though he didn't have any horns."
"Really?" Astlyr had never seen a qunari without horns, but Iron Bull had mentioned them once.
"Yes, Ma'am, and he fought beside her as though they were blood kin. Like each could predict the other's movements."
"That is impressive," Astlyr agreed, trying to think if there was anyone she fought with who could do the same with her. Solas, she thought bitterly. She recalled how she always seemed to know where he was on the field, even as she was in the thick and he was hanging back to cast. How he knew exactly which spell she needed him to use in any given moment.
Her face must have looked melancholy because the guardswoman asked, "are you alright Ma'am?"
"Yes," Astlyr composed her features again as they neared the infirmary. "Just remembering old times."
"Well, times are better now, thanks to you and yours," the woman smiled. She had tough, worn features with a few scars. Her straw colored hair was mostly concealed by her helmet, but a few strands had gotten free and framed her face. Astlyr wondered if the guardswoman had a husband, or children.
"You and the guards have helped a great deal," Astlyr reassured her new friend. "Without you there is no Skyhold, just a bunch of weirdos hiding in a broken fort."
This made Guardswoman Jones laugh. Astlyr let herself laugh too. It felt good, refreshing. Things had been so serious lately. The two had reached the infirmary and Astlyr bid the guard goodbye. Was it her imagination or did there seem to be a new spring in the woman's stride as she walked away?
"Now, master Cole, you must remain in your bed! You are doing your leg more harm than good moving about like that."
"I want to help."
Astlyr pushed open the door. Head healer Audra was standing over the young man, who was laying on top of his covers and looking agitated. "What's going on?" Astlyr questioned, striding into the large room.
"Ah, Inquisitor," Audra looked up, "I'm glad you're here. Did the guard I sent tell you I needed a favor?"
"She did," Astlyr replied, taking in the pleasant room. It was mostly empty, but a few new wounded had been brought in, as well as a child. There were not many children in Skyhold, but more than there had been before the war. Word had gone out that refugees were welcome in the fortress.
The healer followed Astlyr's gaze, "a new family just came in. They were attacked by wolves on their way. A few bites were infected, but are healing nicely now, and the little one has a stubborn cough. The real trouble is your friend here," she gestured to Cole.
"What's he done?" Astlyr fixed her eyes back on the spirit boy, who was hiding his face beneath his wide hat brim.
"He won't stay put," Audra planted hands on her hips. "Keeps doing that 'poofing' thing and trying to help the new wounded. Except his leg should not have weight on it, and I keep telling him that, but the second I turn away there he is, standing beside one bed or another."
"Cole," Astlyr folded her arms, "you have to do what the healers tell you or your leg won't mend."
"I want to help them," Cole said quietly, looking across the room at the family.
"I know," Astlyr sighed. "But you need to help yourself for a little while," she thought for a moment. "Wait, Cole, didn't you tell me that you don't hear other people's pain so much when you are higher up?"
"Yes," he finally tilted his head to look up at her.
"How about this? I'll put him in my quarters, at least for today, so he can focus on getting better." She knew from past experience that the spirit boy healed much more quickly than an ordinary human. The hole through his leg and hand might only take him a week to repair themselves, with proper attention.
"Would that suit you, Master Cole?" Audra asked, tilting her head down to see under his hat. Astlyr knew the workers in the infirmary had a real soft spot for the spirit of compassion. He helped them a great deal under normal circumstances.
"I suppose," Cole seemed disappointed, but willing.
Astlyr pondered for a moment, wondering if she could let Cole put his arm over her shoulder, but their height difference was too great for them to easily move that way. She had just resolved to carry him again when he teleported away. She rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. "That settles that," she grinned. "What did the family think of him?" she asked the the healer beckoned for her to sit so her bandages could be changed.
"The mother and father are still asleep, but the child thinks he's quite entertaining," the woman chuckled. "I suppose the boy will forget him though. I used to forget him too, when we first met. At least, that's what he tells me. But then he decided I should remember."
"How do you come by such friends?" Myfanwy asked. She was still sitting at her post on the bed beside her slumbering deity.
"Good luck I suppose," Astlyr said, recalling how the boy had appeared, helping someone, as she would come to find he always did when he was able.
"There you are. All nice and fresh," Audra said, stepping back from her work on Astlyr's burns. "No sign of infection, so you'll be good as new in no time at all."
"How are the rest of my team?" Astlyr questioned as she stood.
"Mending. Some faster than others," the healer said. "No infections, but Seeker Cassandra did get herself some cruel burns. Your Dorian is as fit as they come, however. All he needed was some warming, a few mana potions, and a good nights rest. Iron Bull hasn't been in yet, but I suspect he is doing well. You Qunari are so resilient."
"That we are," Astlyr agreed. "I'm going to go check on Cole. Thank you for your time," she dipped her head.
The healer waved her off, "T'was only doing my job, Ma'am."
Astlyr went back to her room and found that Cole was indeed there, sitting on her bed and looking contemplative. He saw her come in and gave her a thin smile. "I don't mean to be trouble for the healers,"
"You're not," Astlyr reassured him, walking over and pulling aside some blankets to put them over him.
"I do not get cold, Astlyr. I don't need blankets," he reminded her.
"They're for me," she said, resolutely tucking him in, "so I feel like I'm helping."
Cole watched her for a moment, then nodded, "I understand."
"Will you stay here today?" Astlyr sat on the side of the bed, satisfied with her tucking.
"I will try," the boy replied. He reached up with his good hand and removed his hat, setting it beside him on her bed. She seldom saw him without it. It seemed as though he was removing some token of office. His hair was messy and just at the length where it might fall into his eyes, which was seemingly the most it would ever grow. The sun from her tall windows made the pale hair glow golden. She resisted the urge to brush it back from his face feeling silly for the thought. She had never been fond of children, nor had she pondered having some of her own, but her pull to the spirit boy was decidedly motherly and that knowledge made her feel awkward.
Cole looked at her, his brows came together as though he was concentrating very hard, "Mother smells of wood violets and sweat. She chopped the wood alongside father and was always so strong. Strong arms to hold and to carry and to fight. Her horns were beautiful. Mine look like hers and it makes me proud. They died of the fever, mother and father both. She was not strong enough in the end."
Astlyr looked down into Cole's pale eyes, remembering. She had dug their graves herself. Her hands twitched recalling the shovel, heavy with earth, against her palms. She had gotten the fever too, but had easily recovered. They had not. She had been old enough to leave home, and in truth had been pondering doing so, but she had stayed to help them. Two qunari alone in the wilds, raising up a fine young daughter.
"You loved them," said Cole, in his usual, factual tone.
"I did," she nodded. "I still do." Thinking of them seldom brought her sadness. They had been good, if firm handed parents. She could not have asked for better.
"Thank you for letting me use your room," Cole said. "It is quieter up here." he looked around her sunlit quarters. "Though it will be cold for you here in the winter. This room is poorly insulated."
She laughed quietly at his keen observations, "fortunately I like it a bit cold. And you are welcome, Cole. Any time...just so long as you remember to knock."
He nodded. On a whim she got up and walked to her bookshelf. She did not keep many books, as she had never been much of a reader as a child. She preferred to be romping in the fields and climbing trees. She did have a few of Varric's novels and one history book which detailed the adventures of the Hero of Fereldan. This she selected and return to Cole, handing it to him.
He opened it on his lap and even gave her a smile, "thank you," he said in that emphatic way of his. She couldn't stop a fond smile from reaching her own lips.
"I'll send someone up to check on you in a bit," she said, "if I don't come myself."
"I will be fine," he said, already intent on his book.
"I know," she said, "but I'll have someone check just the same. Like the blankets, it's more for me than you."
"Alright," Cole met her eyes one more time before returning his attention to the book.
She turned and began making her way back down into the keep. She intended to stop out at the stables and give Smoke a good brushing after their recent adventures. The horse needed some affection. Just as she had gathered the brushes and was heading towards his stall something caught her attention. The gates to Skyhold were opening. She suspected it was another shipment of goods for the winter, but instead two figures walked into the keep. The guards around them looked baffled and Astlyr dropped her armload of horse brushes. "Solas," the name escaped her lips in a tiny gasp.
She ran over to him, she wasn't even ashamed, "Solas?!" she shouted this time.
The elf turned to her and gave her a big smile, which wrinkled the corners of his eyes in that familiar way. She stopped a few paces from him, taking him in with astonishment, "Hello, Astlyr," he said.
"Where were you? What happened? Why haven't you contacted us?!" she blurted before she could stop herself.
"Shall I fetch Commander Cullen, Ma'am?" called one of the wall guards, looking uncertain.
"Yes," Astlyr said, her voice a little too loud. "Fetch everyone! Tell them Solas is back!" she turned to her friend once again, not letting him get a word in edgewise, "Are you injured? Do you need anything? Are you hungry? Should we retire to the tavern? " she stopped herself.
"I am sorry," he raised a hand as though to stall her flow of questions. His expression was still good natured as ever, "I cannot stay long. My companion and I have come seeking your aid, old friend." he gestured to the elf that was beside him. Astlyr had never seen him before. He was leaner than Solas, he had angular face and quick, clever eyes, and a hungry look. His skin, like Solas' was unmarked by elven tattoos. She pondered this. Perhaps it was no longer the fashion to wear them? "This is Celwydd. He is...an old friend of mine."
"You are welcome here as a friend of Solas'," Astlyr nodded to the newcomer.
He did not speak, but returned her nod with a tilt of his head. His eyes roved over Skyhold, never still. If Astlyr was honest this Celwydd made her a little nervous. She pressed on, "Will you not take your rest for a moment?" she asked, giving her small friend's shoulder a playful shake, as she had used to do after a good battle. Rather than smiling and laughing, as he had done at this gesture in the past, he looked down at her hand on his arm as though it might be covered in mud. Astlyr pulled her hand back, feeling awkward. "At least tell me what became of you. We had no word. You just vanished. I had my people scouring the land for you. I was worried."
"Were you?" Solas seemed genuinely curious at this statement.
"Of course," she said, "You're my friend and you vanished without a goodbye. Of course I was concerned."
"I...had business," Solas looked a bit sad for a moment. "The orb was destroyed, and I had to deal with the repercussions of that. But I am here now, and I need your help again, my friend."
The rest of Astlyr's company came hurrying up then. "Maker's breath, it is him!" Cullen reached them first and his eyes went wide.
Celwydd tensed, reaching for a long, elegant sword he wore at his hip. Solas reached out and stayed his hand, "easy now, these are my friends," his eyes drifted across the assembling group. "But where are Warden Blackwall and Lady Vivienne?"
"Blackwall is helping with the rebuilding efforts in the Hinterlands," Astlyr explained as her friends came forward to shake hands with (and in some cases attempt to hug) their long lost elven companion. "Viv went back to the court. She's keeping an eye on the empress, as best she can. It's still a bit touch and go in Orlais. Especially with our new Divine on the sunburst throne."
"You have been busy," Solas said, looking impressed.
"Solas has returned seeking our help," Astlyr hurried to explain to the gathered group.
"Doesn't everyone?" Varric snarked, though Astlyr could tell the dwarf too was glad to see Solas again.
"And you are leaving immediately?" Josephine looked concerned. "You are barely recovered from your last mission. Can't it wait?" she addressed Solas with the question.
"The matter for which I seek your aid is quite time sensitive," Solas said. He wore a placating expression, then turned his eyes back to Astlyr.
She remembered the last time he had specifically asked for her help. A spirit friend of his had been in dire need. The spirit had not survived and she knew it had hurt Solas deeply. She recalled the pain in his usually gentle eyes as he had killed the foolish mages in retribution. She had let him. It was hardly her place to decide if they should be spared. He had spoken to her afterward and their bond of friendship had been cemented in those moments. In those moments she had decided that she would always watch over him, as he had for her in those days in Haven. Now she met his gaze and was struck by an odd feeling. A feeling of coldness where warmth should be.
She shook the feeling from her mind. It had been some time since she had seen him, and there was no telling how many hardships he had faced since. "Of course we'll help," she said. "Let us gather supplies and we'll leave as soon as we can." She turned to her assembled company, "none of you are required to join us. I only ask for volunteers."
"I wouldn't miss it," Iron Bull laughed, throwing his arm around Astlyr shoulders. She laced her fingers into his, smiling.
"I suppose you'll be needing me," Varric said, smirking slightly. "You know you can't handle things on your own."
"This is true," Astlyr joked, giving the dwarf a nudge on the shoulder with her hip.
Dorian struck a heroic pose, "you have but to ask and I shall stand by your side." he proclaimed in an over-the-top voice.
"Cas, perhaps you should stay here and recuperate?" Astlyr turned to her warrior friend.
"I assume you are joking?" Cassandra's scarred face was determined, "a few burns are hardly going to keep me back in Skyhold."
Cullen looked saddened as he watched the group disperse to gather supplies and ready the horses. Astlyr turned to her human friend, "will you keep an eye on Cole for me? He'll be staying behind this time. He needs to heal."
"Indeed," the man agreed, nodding, but still obviously unhappy.
"Oh, Cole!" Astlyr looked up, "Solas, I'm certain he'll want to see you! Would you come to visit him with me? He was wounded pretty badly in our last adventure."
"No...thank you," Solas' answer was quick and clipped. This startled Astlyr. Solas and Cole had always been close. Perhaps sharing a stronger bond even than hers with the spirit boy. The elf saw her expression and pressed on, "no, we...we must be off as soon as possible."
Astlyr spared a glance at Celwydd, who wore a smirk she didn't like the look of. His slim hand was still resting on the hilt of his sword. She noticed that she could see all the bones of his hand. She wondered if he was ill or underfed. She tore her eyes from scrutinizing Celwydd's sunken features and turned back to her friend, "I have something else I would like you to see. If you will come with me for a moment. It pertains to your research I think. It will take my men an hour at least to be ready to depart."
"Very well," Solas grudgingly agreed. He turned to his fellow, "remain here."
Celwydd nodded. Astlyr began to lead the way, but made eye contact with one of the guards. He understood her look and nodded. They would keep a close eye on the newcomer. Astlyr led on, walking slowly so Solas could keep up with her much longer stride. "Why did you leave without saying anything?" she asked again as they went.
He did not answer for a long moment, as though considering. "I was devastated by the loss of the orb," he said. No emotion reached his voice now, Astlyr noted. She remembered her friend's face on that day. When she had destroyed Corypheus, but also the Orb of Destruction in the process. He had looked as shattered as the object he had sought. She had even spotted a tear on his cheek. She had had no idea that the thing had meant so much to him personally. She thought his interest had been academic. He went on, "I had to separate myself for a while. Spend some time traveling in the Fade, and in this world. I am sorry I did not stay long enough to say goodbye," he did not sound sorry. His words were flat. Astlyr glanced down at his face. His mind seemed focused elsewhere. She imagined that he was thinking of the mission ahead. She knew when he was studying he could be very distracted. She let this strangeness pass.
"So in your travels you discovered something you needed my help with?" she asked, clasping her hands behind her back as she walked.
"Indeed," he gave her a smile and this time it felt truer. "A spirit is trapped. I need you, and your anchor, to help me set him free."
"Is it another spirit like Wisdom?" she asked. "Trapped in our world by idiotic humans?"
"In a way," Solas said, offering no further explanation.
"Here we are," Astlyr led Solas into the infirmary. She showed him to the bed where the supposed Fen'Harel lay and gave him a quick explanation of the situation. Myfanwy watched the proceedings, but it was clear she was getting used to all the constant comings and goings to Skyhold. She greeted Solas with a brief elven exchange, which Astlyr, of course, could not understand, and then she sat back down on the bed and turned her interest to the sketch she was working on.
"This is most intriguing," Solas said, and this time it was clear that he meant it. His eyes sparkled with an eager light. "You say he came to you as s dead bird? Very clever. I would have never suspected..."
"Neither would I," Astlyr chuckled. "And then at the Temple of Mythal this elvish man, Daveth, gave his body to 'Fen'Harel'"
"I did not know the Dread Wolf had any followers in the area," Solas said, scrutinizing the young man.
Astlyr watched, and was it just her imagination, or did the man on the bed move, ever so slightly? Just a twitch of the face? A flutter of dark eyelashes? Especially when Solas leaned down and the jawbone necklace he wore brushed the young man's arm. As Solas stood straight again the unconscious elf was as still as he had ever been. "Do you have any thoughts about waking him?" She asked.
Solas sighed, touching his necklace absentmindedly, "I am afraid I cannot help you, or him, in that regard. You shall just have to wait for him to awaken. However, I must warn you that Fen'Harel is a trickster. If he does wake, you must be wary of him."
Astlyr cast her mind back to something else she remember Solas telling her about the Dread Wolf. On their first journey to the Temple of Mythal he had told them that Fen'Harel was not the trickster the stories would have you believe, but rather, perhaps, a god of rebellion. She decided not to mention this. "So you have no idea how to wake him either?" she pressed.
"I am afraid not," he said, "though I believe his waking could be aided by infusing him with power. I am uncertain how to do this, however."
Astlyr bit her tongue. They had had an opportunity and she had let it pass. She decided not to mention this, feeling he would agree that killing spirits in any form was wrong. Solas loved all the Fade and its creatures, she knew.
"They're ready for you, Ma'am," Guardswoman Jones stood in the doorway.
"Thank you," Astlyr said, giving her a nod. "Shall we?" she asked Solas. "There is nothing you need? No supplies?"
He shook his head. "Horses for myself and Celwydd is all I require. It is not a far journey."
"Alright then," Astlyr said, "If you will return to the courtyard I will armor up and meet you all there."
Solas hesitated, then nodded. He wore another strange expression. "You do remember the way?" she asked, eyebrow raised.
"Of course," he answered curtly.
Astlyr went to the armory, with Guardswoman Jones tagging behind. When they were out of earshot of Solas the woman moved forward to walk beside Astlyr. "Ma'am," she said, her tone urgent.
"Yes?"
"While we were watching that other elf, Celwydd, he requested a tour of our grounds. We could see no harm so we consented. However, when we showed him the mage tower we...we lost track of him for a few moments."
"Did anything happen?" Astlyr questions.
"Not that we can tell, Ma'am," Jones said. "Nothing missing, no one harmed. I just wanted to inform you."
"Thank you, guardswoman," Astlyr nodded to her as she selected her armor from its rack and began pulling it on. "I will be sure to keep a close eye on this Celwydd fellow as we go." She took down the special chainmail shirt that had been made for her. It opened at the front and closed with wooden toggles so she did not have to pull it on over her horns. Her mind was busy. She wasn't certain why but this whole situation made her edgy. It was not a feeling she liked to have right at the start of a mission. Yes, she would keep a close eye on Celwydd, and on Solas too.
*** As always, feel free to comment with thoughts, or any errors you might notice :)