***** Woo hoo, we're back to the imaginative chapter titles. Bet you'll never guess what this chapter is about. ;)
But what has happened at Skyhold while Astlyr and crew have been gone? Danger? Intrigue? Dance parties? Time to find out!****
Part 32
Homecoming
Skyhold. It was a welcome sight indeed. Astlyr could have kissed the stones. Hugged the turrets and spires. The cold was unpleasant, but after the desert she was willing enough to face it again. As they rode towards the fortress on borrowed horses, Dirthamen asked her many questions. He claimed he knew the place, though, of course, not the military installation perched atop what had been a temple. "Many of my faithful would leave me offerings here," he said, fondly.
"Your shrine remains," Myfanwy rode up beside them. "I can show you."
"If it would be permissible," Dirthamen dipped his head towards Astlyr in deference to her judgment.
"You'll have to be treated as all our other 'godly' guests," Astlyr explained. "You'll be kept under guard and spend much of your time in your quarters. However, I believe exception can be made for a visit to the temple. If it is supervised."
"Of course," Dirthamen agreed.
Astlyr glanced towards Fen'Harel. "Why can't you be more like him, huh?"
Fen gave her one of his cocky grins, "not all gods are the same. Just as not all qunari are deadly berserkers."
"Fair enough," Astlyr said with a slight smirk, "but you could try taking a few pages from his book all the same."
Fen'Harel made a show of shuddering at the thought. Astlyr laughed at him as they approached massive bridge which would take them to the gates of Skyhold. To her surprise she spotted Alun the stone wolf standing sentinel before the bridge, was not alone. Instead several mages were with him, and they appeared to be playing. The massive statue creature frolicked in the snow as the mages moved around him. One young elf with bright, auburn hair which shone like fire in the cold daylight, was pulling boulders from a nearby pile with her gift and tossing them for Alun to run and fetch.
"Maker. What has Cassandra let the place fall to?" Cullen joked, spurring his mount forward. "Is anyone keeping watch at all, or have we declared this a holiday?"
Astlyr urged her own horse to canter after her lover. They reached the main gates in good time and were greeted from above by the wall guard, who sounded pleased to see them returned. The portcullis slid neatly up and Astlyr led her people through the gate. Back home.
Cassandra appeared with Josie almost at once. Astyr groaned, "at least let me get off my horse before you bombard me with news."
Both women stopped and stood silent, slightly impish expressions on their faces as they waited for Astlyr's boots to strike cold cobblestones. Seeing this Astlyr dismounted as slowly as she could with a lazy swing of her long leg. Several of the nearby guards were chuckling. When she was finally on the ground, the diplomat stepped forward, "was your journey a successful one, Inquisitor?"
"It was indeed," Astlyr gestured to Dirthamen, who was still on his horse and being scrutinized by wary guardsmen.
"That is...not what I expected," Cassandra said, leaning around Astyr to take in the newcomer.
"It's a long story. Let's just say we have a new 'guest' and he is to be treated the same as our other 'guests'"
Cassandra got the idea at once and relayed this to the guards, who led Dirthamen away, not unkindly, to find his quarters. The rest of Astlyr's crew devoted themselves to unpacking their saddlebags and getting about the business of settling back in. Varric strode over and held something out to Cassandra. "Here you go, Seeker. Little souvenir for you from our adventure."
"A book?" Cassandra took the offered gift. "A copy of Swords and Shields?"
"I know you already have one, but its getting a bit battle worn and this one looks new. I don't think the Venatori even cracked the spine."
"The Ven-" Cassadnra shook her head, "I'm certain this will all be in the report. Thank you for the book, Varric." she gave him one of her best smiles, which was surprisingly sweet when she wanted it to be.
"No trouble," Varric waved away the gesture, trying and failing to hide his own grin.
"We have much to report to you, Inquisitor," Josephine announced.
"How did I know there'd be more?" Astlyr gripped as she extracted her packs from the horse's saddle.
"We should probably get your debriefing out of the way first." the diplomat pointed out, ignoring the Inquisitor's annoyance.
"As you like," Astlyr agreed, following the two women into Skyhold. Cullen strode along beside her, making certain that Cas saw him scrutinizing the courtyard.
"Will you stop that?" the seeker asked, barely able to conceal the mirth in her voice.
"I'm just surprised is all. I'm gone for weeks and the place is still in once piece."
"Oh shut your mouth," Cas retorted, "you know I am quite capable. We hardly noticed you were gone."
"How are the repairs on the tower coming?" Astlyr questioned, forestalling any more goodhearted bickering between the two military commanders.
"Quite well," Josephine replied, gesturing to the structure as Astlyr and company hesitated on the stairs to the keep. The tower looked to be in excellent condition from the outside. Astlyr knew she would need to stop in and check the interior repairs as soon as she was able. "The mages tell me that in the spring they will begin traveling to locate copies of some of the tomes which were destroyed."
"Excellent," Astlyr said as she stepped into the relative warmth of Skyhold's main hall. She was greeted by the familiar smell of lit braziers and cool stones. The scent of her home. The Fereldan banners still hung on display, in part to show pride for their homeland, but also to keep in the heat. Everything looked as it should be. Part of her always worried, as he journeyed far and wide, that she would return to find Skyhold attacked and besieged. Unable to defend itself. She knew better than to believe herself the soul source of Skyhold's commanding power, but she could not stand the thought of the fortress falling without her to try to save it.
They entered Josie's office, and soon the five were settled in chairs around the crackling fire. Tea was called for, and light refreshments to accompany it. It had been so long since Astyr had tasted good Skyhold fare that she ate more than her portion. Fortunately Josie was too busy scribbling notes to scold her for her lack of decorum. As they ate, Astlyr and Cullen related their adventures. The Venatori attacks, and of locating the foci. They explained, as best they could, how the elvhen god Dirthamen had been resurrected and given the nearest body to hand.
Cassandra was not pleased. She folded her arms, scowling. "You were supposed to retrieve the foci. I did not expect you to resurrect the god with it."
"Neither did we," Cullen admitted, sitting forward and resting his arms on his knees. "It...seemed the thing to do at the time."
"He doesn't appear to be a threat," Astlyr offered. "He traveled with us for some time and made no attempts to harm us." Astlyr caught Cas's glare, "Of course, we are being cautious, as we have been with the others. He will not be afforded special trust. I know how manipulative these gods can be." Cas's continued glare indicated to Astlyr that the woman was still displeased at the mere notion of so many powerful 'gods' in their fortress.
"Who better to face the gods than the gods themselves?" Astlyr pressed.
"You may be correct, if we must indeed encounter these elven creatures again," Cassandra refused to name them as deities. "Perhaps those on our side can persuade the others."
Astlyr did not bother mentioning that she thought this unlikely. She had woefully little expertise in this area. Instead she finished up her report, concluding with the dragon sighting and the easy journey back to Skyhold. She brushed off the dragon issue, assuring the group that she would do some slaying later, if the need arose. This seemed enough for Cas and Josie, who appeared eager to share news of their own.
"Alright, I can see the two of you chomping at the bit. What drama have I missed while I've been away?"
Josephine rose and crossed the room. She opened her door and addressed a guard who was waiting outside. "Please fetch Master Crow to my office."
"Master Crow?"
"A spy," Josie explained. "One of ours," she put in hastily. "To be accurate, he is one of Divine Victoria's. He was stationed in Halam'shiral. He came to us last week with some dire news."
"Dire news. My favorite kind," Astlyr snarked, swigging her tea and suddenly wishing it was ale. "Can't we ever have some pleasant news? Or- merely bad news?"
"Dire is all we can afford," Cullen quipped as the door opened again and a lithe, small man stepped inside. His was dressed in nondescript brown clothes. His skin was pale and his almond shaped eyes intense and intelligent. Astlyr noticed at once that his left arm ended at the elbow, obviously cut off in some past battle as it showed no sign of blood or bandaging now. The man crossed to Astlyr and took a knee before her, head bent low, "Herald. It is an honor to finally meet you in person. The Divine has spoken much of you,"
"Er, please, stand," Astlyr urged the man, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. As one of Lelianna's cronies, he probably thought her sent by the Maker and marked by his bride.
"My name is Crow Fallow," the man said, rising to stand in the at-ease position before her. He looked at no one else in the room, instead fixing Astlyr with a gaze like a drill which she felt could bore into her marrow. She was certain his keen eyes were taking in every detail of her, from her horns to her scuffed boots and raggedy traveling tunic.
"Report, Crow Fallow," Astlyr said, deciding that if he was looking for a military commander, at least her voice could meet the mark.
"I am sorry to have to bring you this news, ma'am," the man said, his voice taking on the slightest tightness. An edge of fear, was it? "The spies you had sent to the city of Hilam'Shiral have all been slain."
"What? By who? How?" Astlyr tried to keep her tone measured, and failed.
Crow looked decidedly edgy as he answered, "I cannot tell you how all died, but most were ferreted out and slaughtered by the elves of the city. Elves that I might have thought had little concern for Inquisition spies. The common people were not the ones being watched, and yet they are the ones who attacked. I too lost many comrades. They almost had me, but I escaped them with the news I bring you now. The Divine instructed me to bring it to you directly."
There was no sound for a long moment save the crackling of the fire and the mad scribbling of Josie's quill on parchment. Astyr's breath caught in her throat. No words seemed willing or able top push themselves past her lips. Cullen and Cassandra looked stricken as well. Josephine finished her writing and exhaled a great breath of sorrow. "I dare not send more men," she said, her voice low. "Crow told me of this before you returned home," she clarified.
"The information your people may have imparted to you, had they survived, is this;" Crow seemingly had more to speak of than the death of so many good spies. "An attempt has been made on the Empress's life. She has fled the palace. We are uncertain where she has taken up hiding, and even the nobles do not seem certain who is to rule in her stead."
"The power vacuum that would create-is creating, must be devastatingly," Cullen murmured, running and hand through his hair.
"I was forced to flee for my life before I could ascertain who will take the throne in her absence. She may have appointed someone who had yet to come forth. I do not know."
"You were right to retreat," Astlyr assured the man. "You would have been no use to us dead." Crow seemed pleased. Perhaps he was not accustomed to his life being valued.
"Is there more to report?" Cassandra asked, not unkindly.
"No, ma'am. That is all the information that I have," Crow said, snapped to smart attention. "With your permission I will leave you. I am wanted by my Divine as soon as I am able to return."
"Alright," Astlyr said, meeting Crow's intense gaze one more time, trying to parse out whether he was holding anything back. She could see nothing but cold honesty in the spy's eyes, but she knew a good spy could conceal what they did not wish known. "You are dismissed. Thank you, master Crow."
"I thank you, Lady Herald," he bowed an elegant leg, sweeping low and out of the room.
"Has Orlais asked for our aid?" Astlyr questioned the diplomat.
"They have not. It is well within the Inquisition's rights to send troops at this point, if we see fit. We have already prevented one assassination, our presence would likely be accepted."
"I don't like it," Astlyr muttered, scratching the base of a horn. "The elves of Halam'Shiral killing our people. This mystery attempt on the Empress's life. All of it gets my hackles up and I can't put my finger on why."
"They do seem likely to be connected." Cassandra agreed, her dark eyes watching the fire.
"Do we send troops?" Cullen asked, leaning forward in his chair.
"Not yet," Astlyr said, already wondering if she was making a mistake as soon as the words left her lips. "We know that any spies we send will probably be slain, and I cannot send troops in blind. Instead, recall the Inquisition soldiers to the fortress."
Cullen watched her, considering her words. "They won't be pleased to leave newly repaired homes and farms."
"They're soldiers. They'll come when they're called," said Cassandra with much more surety than Astlyr felt.
"I want to have the full army at our disposal should we need to send them out on a moment's notice," Astlyr explained. No good waiting until we're in the thick before we send for our men."
"That is wise," Cassandra nodded as Josie scribbled madly, shuffling papers with careless ease and not dropping one.
"I will send out the call immediately," Josephine finished her writing and looked up, scanning the faces of Skyhold's military leaders and its Inquisitor. "Do we wish our spies to investigate anywhere else?"
"Keep them here for the moment," Astlyr said. "I won't lose any more pointlessly. As much as it pains me to be uninformed about what is going on in the world, we must be cautious."
"We are in agreement on that score," said Cullen.
"That's all I can think to do for now," Astlyr sighed, rocking back in her chair, then forward to stand. "If you require me in the next few hours, I'll be spending some much needed time regrouping with a dear friend."
"Ah, yes. Dorian is with Titus," Cassandra easily guessed who Astlyr wanted to see, rising to her own feet and straightening her tunic. She still wore the more regal attire of a general rather than the armor of a soldier she normally favored. Astlyr recalled that, as fierce as Cassandra was in the field, she had been raised in culture.
"I'll go with you," Cullen offered. "I wanted to check in on the young templar. See how he's fairing."
"Alright," Astlyr agreed and she and Cullen left the office.
They walked in silence to Dorian's rooms, where they knew the two men had sequestered themselves as Titus attempted to break free of lyrium's grasp. The pair did not hold hands, but allowed their knuckles to brush flirtatiously as they went. Astlyr felt certain this did not go unnoticed by the few people who were gathered in the main hall to talk or meet friends. She noted, as they passed him, that Varric had installed himself in his chair by the big fire and was already hard at work, no doubt transcribing his notes of their desert adventures while the events were still fresh. Across from him at his table perched Myfanwy. She was drawing rapid sketches of dracolisks, demons, and fleeing Venatori. Astlyr chuckled as he caught sight on an illustration which depicted her standing, be-horned and terrifying, with her hand raised to open a rift. The Venatori who clustered before her looked ready to wet themselves. The elf had their expressions perfect, Astlyr thought with a grin.
Before heading up to Dorian's rooms she and Cullen raided the kitchens. The helpers were as pleased to see her as ever, and when she mentioned she was bringing food to the beleaguered mage the cooks set to work creating a tray of tempting options. Sweet breads, warm tea, and dried fruit with nuts. Someone even scraped together a squash and potato soup, the smell of which made Astlyr's mouth water. She and Cullen each sampled a bowl as they waited for the tray to be finished. The two leaned casually against an unused work table as they ate. Astlyr felt something nudge her foot. Cullen was resting his against hers. It reminded her of their capture, and how he had kept his foot on her leg, to reassure her. She smiled up into his face wishing she could someone capture and keep a moment.
Then the tray of food was finished and Astlyr hefted it carefully. "Well, if he doesn't love everything on here then I am no judge," she beamed at the kitchen staff, who blushed and waved away her praise. The elf with the crooked teeth gave her a wide smile which she returned heartily. Then she and Cullen made their way from the heat of the kitchens and into the relative cool of the stairway.
Dorian's rooms were located near the library. They were small, but he had insisted upon proximity to books rather than size. His rooms were well decorated without being lavish. His style of good living prevailed in soft cushions and a large, high backed chair beside the tiny fire grate, but the starkness of Skyhold was not lost. Patches of grey stone were allowed to peek from behind tapestries. Asltyr had to admire her friend's taste as subtle crimsons blended with deeper earth tones, created a homey yet entirely elegant layout.
Dorian's bed was taken up by Titus. The young man appeared to be unconscious. His chest rose and fell slowly beneath the many blankets which had been laid over him. His face was pale as death, eyes sunken into dark sockets and his red hair drenched with sweat. A half filled jug of water sat beside the bed, as well as an untouched bowl of broth.
Dorian was in his chair, slumped in a doze. He looked worse for the wear as well. His usually vibrant skin was reduced to an ashy pallor and even his mustache seemed to droop. Astlyr crossed to her friend, setting the tray of food on a small, round table she knelt before Dorian, gently touching his knee. He jerked awake, then, seeing her, smiled broadly. "M'gel! I wondered when you were coming to see me. Cole's already been. He got Titus to sleep, poor lad. I've been up with him..." the mage hesitated, rubbing his temples as though this flurry of speech had taxed him.
"How's he been?" Cullen asked.
"I think he's seen the worst of it," Dorian heaved a sigh, "He was better today, believe it or not. I got a little water in him and it didn't come back up, thank the gods."
Cullen sat on the edge of the bed, pulling off a glove he laid a hand on the young templar's forehead. "He's warm, but not dangerously so," affirmed.
"The healer has been here numerous times," Dorian reassured them. "He's had a rough time, but I think he'll pull through it."
"Have the dreams been bad?" Cullen asked, his voice soft as he gently arranged the young man's blankets.
"Yes," Dorian slumped, as though trying to collapse in on himself. "When he's lucid he's able to tell me of them. Mostly abstract horrors, you know, but sometimes he sees his father. The man used to beat him. Makes me suddenly grateful for my family," the mage smiled thinly.
"Dorian, you look done in," Astlyr said, still kneeling before her friend, concern etched on her features.
"I've been up for a few long nights," he admitted, attempting to wave away her worry with a hand which he barely had the energy to raise.
"Why not have some of the other templars sit with him?" Cullen asked. "I know that any of them would have been willing."
"He said he didn't want them," Dorian explained. "Said he'd already dishonored himself enough in their eyes." Cullen made a clucking sound with his tongue which showed exactly what he thought of this notion.
"You need a break," Astlyr announced, standing. "Come on. You can stay in my quarters tonight. Cullen will sit with Titus."
"No, I'm alright M'gel, we can manage." Dorian protested.
"You can, but you won't" she said, putting on her commanding voice. It was startling in the small space. "Come." she held out her hands to him.
"Do you see how she bosses me?" Dorian shot a playful glance towards Cullen. "Does she boss you?"
"I like being bossed by her," Cullen managed a smirk before the blush overtook him.
Dorian laughed, then took Astlyr's offered hands. "Well, if you're going to start snapping orders and dragging me around, I suppose I had better comply."
"Wouldn't want me to blood rage and ruin your decor," Astlyr chuckled, hauling her friend to his feet. He swayed and leaned against her with a grunt. "Alright. Easy," she said, her voice softening considerably.
"Just light headed," Dorian said. "Bit of a headache from staying up so late."
"All the more reason to get you somewhere quiet to rest." Astlyr said. She glanced at the tray of food, knowing she would be unable to carry it and support her friend at the same time.
"I'll have someone bring it up to you," Cullen reassured her.
"Thank you, love," she said, catching herself on the last word, then letting it pass. The templar showed no sign that he found it unusual.
"Come on you big dandy," Astlyr turned back to Dorian, draping his arm over her broad shoulders. "Let's go."
Titus made a coughing sound and Dorian hesitated. "I've got him. Go," Cullen's tone was so firm there could be no more argument.
Dorian slumped willingly against Astlyr's strong arm, obviously relishing the feeling of being supported as much as she enjoyed supporting him. It felt good to be doing this, the simplest form of helping. Cole would be pleased, she thought, as the two made their way slowly across the main hall. Varric spotted them, "you alright, Sparkler? Do we need a healer?"
"He'll be fine," Astlyr called back to her dwarvish companion. "I'm looking after him."
"I won't survive it!" Dorian managed to join the snark, "send help! I won't live out the hour!"
Astlyr heard Varric chuckling as she and Dorian negotiated the stairs up to her rooms. What a pity there were so many of the damn things. Her quarters were cold, no fire burning. Of course, she cursed herself inwardly, she should have asked for her rooms to be prepared. "Don't fret," Dorian raised a hand, and with a twist of his wrist a small fire sparked to life. "I can still manage simple magics," he said when he gave him a glare for exerting himself.
She deposited her friend on the bed, where he sat, watching her move about. She drew the curtains closed to keep in the warmth, something she seldom did for herself, preferring it a bit chilly. Then she tossed a few soft-wood logs onto the hungry fire and returned to her friend. She knelt, beginning to unlace his boots. He tutted, "now then M'gel, I am perfectly capable of taking off my own boots."
"So am I," she said, "and look. I'm already doing it."
"This is embarrassing," he complained as she pulled one boot free and set to work on the other. His hands reached down to stay hers.
"Stop fussing and let me take care of you, dammit," she snarled in the deadliest voice she could manage. It was hardly impressive, but it got the point across.
Dorian let out a loud, true laugh, holding his scarred side, "Hahahaha! Bless me! That is something I would never in a million years have guessed a qunari would one day say to me. Ahahahaha!"
"Oh hush," she scolded, trying, and failing, to contain a smile as she tugged the other boot free. "Now the shirt."
"You're just trying to get me into a state of undress. I knew it! I knew this Cullen thing was all a ruse!"
"Yes. It's you, Dorian. It's always been you," she stopped her work and put her hands on either side of him on the bed, bringing her face close to his, struggling to keep a dopey, flirty expression, and failing. All her facial muscles seemed to be rebelling at once.
"It's the mustache, isn't it? Woman go wild for-"
It was then they both realized that a young man was standing in the doorway, holding the tray of food and looking thoroughly perplexed. "What's the matter?" quipped Dorian as Astlyr removed herself from the bed and went to accept the tray. "Haven't you ever seen a seedy dalliance before?"
"He's kidding," Astlyr assured the youth as he retreated hastily from the room as though a raging inferno was at his back. She turned back to Dorian, who was watching her with weary eyes and smiling. "What are you in the mood for?" she laid out the delicious treats on her table, pouring tea for them both. It smelled minty and was still quite warm.
"Not terribly hungry at the moment," the mage confided.
Astlyr crossed to her friend and held out a cup to him. When he had taken it she pressed her palm to his forehead. "Hmmm, a little warm I suppose. You've probably gone and made yourself ill. What good are you to Titus in that state?"
Dorian harrumphed, but gave little protest as he lifted the cup to his lips and blew delicately. He was still a refined gentleman, even when worn ragged. He sipped experimentally as Astlyr returned to the food and filled a wooden bowl with the soup. "Here. I think this is best."
"Are you going to spoon feed it into me, poor patient that I am?" he asked, cheekily.
"You don't want that," she said, settling the full bowl in his lap and pulling her chair over to sit beside him. "If I were you, I'd eat."
"Threat understood," the mage griped, but he set aside his tea and took a few spoonfuls of the soup. He closed his eyes, and Astlyr could not tell if he was relishing the flavor or falling asleep. His eyes opened again, meeting hers with such a bone weariness that her heart gave a little sting. "I've missed you, M'gel," he said, his voice hushed and husky. "I didn't realize that I hadn't gone without you for such a long stretch in...well, since we met in that unfortunate future. Then you were gone on your desert quest and I...well...you know."
"I missed you too," she said, finding his hand and squeezing it.
He gave a heavy little sigh, resting back against her pillows, "I really don't feel terribly well at all."
"Big of you to admit it," Astlyr removed the soup from his lap and arranged the blankets over him, "alright. You just need a good sleep, that's all," she soothed.
"Hmm," he replied settling in.
Having tucked him in she crossed the room and poured cool water into a small basin from her pitcher, then selected a kerchief from a drawer in her stalwart wardrobe. The place where she had punched the furniture was still plainly visible. She recalled that day. How her friend had found her and bandaged her hand. Reaching his side she dampened the cloth and draped it gently over his eyes. A smile quirked the corners of his lips. "If you tell anyone about this, I will kill you with fire. I have an image to maintain."
"So have I," she chuckled. "My lips are sealed."
She sat with him, offering sips of tea and re-wetting the cool cloth for his brow. He told her more about Titus in a quiet, gentle voice she had only heard him use a few times. "He's a good man, Astlyr. He's just made some bad choices. Haven't we all? He's so eager to atone it's... well it's sickeningly inspiring, really. But aren't we both trying to do that after all? I for my people and him for his mistakes."
"So you really do like him?" she asked, her hand resting in his arm.
"I do, M'gel, quite a lot. It's too soon to cry true love, but I think I can safely say it's gone beyond meetings behind the garden shed." He gave a little chuckle. "He's not as excited about books as I am, sadly. He grew up poor, but a mage in his first circle assignment taught him to read. He prefers the outdoors. Loves horses, as it happens, just like you. When he's better I'll take him visit Dandy in the stables. He's shy. Soft spoken."
"So everything you're not," Astlyr smirked, though she knew he could not see her face, he could no doubt hear it in her voice.
"Opposites attract," he replied. "He grew up on a little farm just outside of Lothering. Joined the templars as a youth right before the Blight. Wasn't sent to the Fereldan circle for training, thank goodness, or he probably would have been killed there. He was trying to support his family, you know? He's got a younger sister, Miriam, and his mother is still alive."
"His family survived the Blight?" Astlyr questioned.
"Yes. When Lothering was sacked they were far enough away to see it coming and flee. His father still managed to get himself blighted and died, but no real loss there, by the sound of it. Titus lost contact with his mum and sister after the mage revolt. Now that he's with the Inquisition he says he'd like to try to find them again."
"And he makes you happy?"
"He does." Dorian's smile was small, but deeply earnest.
"Well, if he ever stops making you happy, just tell me and I'll kick his ass." Astlyr reassured her friend, playfully.
"Are you my best friend or my older sister?" Dorian chuckled.
"If I'm your sister then it seems that you got all the looks in the family," she muttered wryly, taking away the cloth and offering him a sip of tea, which he accepted.
"That's to be expected. I mean, look at me...well, now might not be the best example, but normally I could charm the pants off of passing insects."
"What an absurd power to have," Astlyr snorted, laying the rag gently back over his brow.
"Isn't it just?" he made a sound half way between a sigh and a whimper. "My head is pounding. Please... just talk to me until I fall asleep?" He settled back onto the bed.
"Alright," Astlyr said, speaking more softly, "I can do that. I'll tell you all about our adventures in the desert."
"This should be entertaining," he mumbled, folding his hands on his stomach and snuggling deeper into her pillows.
"Oh, it is," she smiled, setting a hand atop his. A small smile played on his lips as she began. "I think it truly started getting interesting the night that Fen'Harel beat a qunari in a wrestling match..."
***** Ok, ok ok. I admit it. That friend fluff with Dorian and Astlyr was mostly for me. I just love those two so damn much! They're the perfect friend pair and I love writing them because their snark levels go over 9,000 any time they're together! I know that moment was a lot more...fanfic-y than much of this book, but I gotta indulge sometimes. Mah feels!
In other news: call back the army because shit might go down. Probably smart, Astlyr. Probably smart.
I totally wrote Crow Fallow and then fell in love with him. After Old Gods is done, you all might get treated to a short story or two starring that hunk of awesome. Just sayin'.
Thanks for your support guys! I should say it more often, but having loyal readers makes my whole outlook much happier! You are all awesomesauce! It's you, readers. It's always been you. ;)
Random question: any of you guys writers? I'd love to check out your pages!
Next chapter: May be early or late. My week next week is going to be insane, so I don't know when I'll post for certain. I shall try to have it on time, but we shall see. A tentative: 7/16/15
Keep up to date, see book reviews, and chat about books in general right here: pages/Emily-Luebke-Author/283743888311991 *****