***** Well, surmounting all of the internet issues I have been having, I have managed to bring you the latest chapter! This time from Seattle where I am at the Dota 2 Internationals with my youtube team: Pariah Caste!
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Part 33
Exodus
"It isn't your responsibility, Astlyr," Cullen said. He was sitting at her desk, having retreated to her quarters, ostensibly because they were quieter. She suspected he had other reasons, but she didn't bring it up.
A week and a half had passed since the dragon indecent, and Astlyr had thought the pesky issue of elven gods and their true natures was finally fleeing her mind. The reports had come back time and time again that no army had been sighted, at least not near Skyhold or the Frostbacks. A few of their farther flung scouting parties had yet to return. Astlyr tried to remind herself that they had traveled almost to Denerim. It was a goodly trek, even on horseback, and they would be moving carefully. Yet these had not received a single crow, not a word. It made her tense.
Then there was the thorny issue of Fen'Harel and his godhood. Every now and again her mind fled back to that territory and today she trod it with Cullen. She turned to her man, her hands planted on her hips, "If I knew Andraste was alive and walking around, wouldn't you like me to tell you?"
Cullen sat back in her wooden desk chair where he had been poised to begin signing a few documents. He fidgeted with his quill pen as he thought. "I don't know that I would. I'm being honest, Astlyr," he said when she gave him an incredulous look. "I think I'd want to come to her on my own."
"By faith alone?" Astlyr cocked an eyebrow.
"I know you think it's ridiculous, but that's how I think I'd prefer it. I doubt you'd get a different answer from Cassandra either."
"What if I you had to fight Andraste?"
"Maker, then I definitely wouldn't want to know!"
"Suppose she wasn't really what you thought she is? What if she was only a human and pretending to be your god?"
"Is Fen'Harel only an elf?" Cullen's gold flecked eyes met hers, questioning. "I always got the impression he was a bit more than that."
"Well, he is, but by his own admission he's not a god," she sat down on her bed sighing.
"If Adraste was here, I wouldn't want you to tell me, god or no," Cullen concluded, firmly. "Here," he held out several papers, "these need your signature as well."
Astlyr heaved an annoyed groan, but crossed to the desk to sign. "I don't like to encourage Fen's propensity for lying. I still think it's wrong to hide what he and his fellow 'gods' truly are from the elves here, but I can also see your point, and Fen's."
"In the end it really isn't your place," Cullen reaffirmed. "You're the leader of Skyhold, and some even still view you as a holy figure," Astlyr made another disgruntled snort and Cullen pressed on, "but you are not an elf, you don't believe in their gods, you don't share their history. It isn't your duty to reveal the nature of their gods."
Astlyr slumped against the desk. "I know. It still bothers me. What do we say to the soldiers if Mythal comes to Skyhold again?"
"If these 'gods' come as friends, we talk to them. If they come as enemies, we tell our forces that they are foes that will attack us, and they will fight. It's what soldiers do."
"I thought you hated keeping things from your men," she looked up from the papers, her pen paused mid signature.
"I do. But that doesn't mean I won't. Besides," he gave her a little smirk, "most of my men are human."
"That's cheating," she sniggered. She scrawled her name messily across the rest of the documents and was about to ask how he felt about lunch, when the watch bell began ringing.
Both she and Cullen sprang towards the door with such speed that they nearly collided. They were neck in neck crossing the main hall, joined by Cassandra, who had been sitting with Myfanwy and Varric beside the big fireplace. The seeker's hand rested tensely on the hilt of her sword as she strode hastily to catch up with her friends. Astlyr rarely wore a blade in Skyhold. She had learned early that an armed qunari strolling about the place was unnerving to the people at best, and at worst downright terrifying. She would have to stop by the armory if she wanted gear, but for the moment tried to remind herself that it was only the bell, nothing more. She could hear no sounds of combat, nor of a giant, winged lizard destroying the courtyard.
Varric and Myfanwy stood at once and trailed after the leaders, curious, but intelligent enough to stay back and out of the way. Astlyr and company reached the courtyard just as the main gates were swinging laboriously outward, the portcullis having already been raised. Allies then, Astlyr guessed, or the gates would never be opened so willingly. Positioning herself to see who was approaching Astlyr was surprised to see only one horse, though with two riders, making their way up the long bridge at a canter. Alun, the stone wolf, was trotting beside the obviously exhausted horse, encouraging the animal onward.
A few stable hands rushed over as soon as hoof beats echoed in the yard. "One of our scouts!" Cassandra confirmed as the man riding fore on the horse reined in the panting beast. He wore the low hood and colors of the Skyhold far-riders, Astlyr noted as the man slid from the saddle. His legs didn't hold him and he collapsed to his knees with a surprised sound. The person who had been riding behind him was obviously unconscious and slid limply off the other side, hitting the ground with a thump before anyone could catch her.
Cullen knelt beside the scout, who was still on all fours, gasping in air, "I'm- I'm alright, Commander. Just been...riding for a long time. My legs are like jelly."
Astlyr moved around the horse to where people had already coming to the aid the second rider. The horse itself, a healthy, lean charger, was huffing for air and trembling with exertion She knew that a horse could, and indeed would, run itself to death if asked, and this beast had come dangerously close to collapsing. She would have to ensure that Dennet himself saw to the intrepid mount. Then she crouched to see who else had ridden into Skyhold, already hearing the portcullis slide back down to seal the fortress safely once more.
"Sera? Maker's balls! Cass, it's Sera!" Astlyr's words were sharp as she took in the short, blond hair and the small, clever face of her friend.
The elf was in a crumpled heap beside the horse's hooves. She was a bloody mess, with wounds obviously not caused by her short fall from the saddle. One of the stable hands was kneeling, supporting her neck and head with a worried expression. Seconds later Cole was there, crouching beside the elf, delicate hands fluttering over her with concern.
"Buttercup?" Varric had drawn closer, with Myfanwy uncertainly tagging behind. "Shit!" he exclaimed when he saw Sera's condition.
Astlyr moved in and scooped the limp elf easily into her arms. Cole was resting a hand on Sera's forehead, walking along beside them. Cullen threw the scout's arm across his shoulders, with Cassandra taking the other side, even as the man protested that he would be alright in a moment. His horse was led slowly away, its head so low that its chin almost touched the snowy ground.
"I'll go ahead and warn the healers," Cole stated before vanishing with his usual puff of smoke and cold air.
"I can report, sers," the scout offered.
"Wait until we've had you seen too," Cullen reassured the man, who was no doubt feeling insecure, surrounded as he was by Skyhold's highest leadership.
The infirmary was its usual, warm and welcoming self. A small fire was being coaxed to life and there was that familiar smell of herbs and fresh beddging. The healers bustled forward, Cole in tow. Astlyr set her charge carefully on a bed. Sera didn't stir. Astlyr ripped her glove from her hand with her teeth and felt for a pulse. It was there. Fluttering, but present. The healers swooped in, bustling her to the side.
"They can help," Cole reminded Astlyr in a calm tone. She heaved a sigh, stepped even further out of their way.
"Never fear, Inquisitor," Audra, the lead healer, confirmed with a smile, "we'll take excellent care of her."
Astlyr turned her attention to the scout. He was a youngish man, with messy blond hair and a ruddy, weathered face. He sat on the edge of his bed, already being fussed over by a healer. He was attempting to wave the woman away, but she insisted on checking him over. "I'm alright," he reassured everyone. He actually looked embarrassed as he met Astlyr's eyes. He seemed ready to stand up and give her a proper salute, but she forestalled him by sitting down at the foot of the bed. "What is your name, scout, and can you tell us what happened?"
"I'm called Edward, Ma'am, Ed to my friends. With the Green Leaf Long Riders. We were assigned to check on Redcliff and then head towards Denerim. We had recently reached the captiold city and were establishing our camp and our plan. A few of ours had gone inside to investigate the goings on."
"Did everything look clear?" Cassandra asked, folding her arms. She kept shooting concerned glances towards Sera.
"She will be alright," Cole answered the concern everyone was emanating. "She's strong. Her spirit is wild, like a cat that had been in too many fights and keeps fighting. She never minds the scratches."
The scout stared at Cole for a long moment before seeming to forget the boy was there and continuing his report as though no one had spoken, "That's just it, Commander, all seemed well, if very quiet. One of my fellows, name of Amber, said she felt as though the city was holding its breath, waiting for something. Even the taverns were less lively than usual, though we had not investigated them all. The only other thing we noticed was that there were not many coming or going from the city's main gates, but it is winter, after all. Trade is bound to slow. When I left my team, we had not concluded our exploration. We found the lady," he nodded towards Sera, "freezing to death on the ground just outside the city, all bloodied as you see her, and muttering things that made no sense."
"What was she saying?" Astlyr questioned.
"Something about cookies, as I recall. And 'elfy elves', whatever those are. Then she went off on a long ramble about pies. One of my lads recognized her as a friend of yours, Inquisitor, so our healer patched her up good, and they loaded her onto my horse and told me to ride hard for Skyhold. Feather is the fastest mount we've yet had," he added, proudly.
"Why not take her in to Denerim for treatment?" Cullen asked.
"We decided this way was best. Our healer is skilled, and we knew that whoever had hurt your lass was somewhere in the city," the scout shrugged. "We thought it more prudent to bring her back to you."
"Did she say anything else on the ride back to Skyhold?" Cullen questioned.
"Well, when she was awake she liked to call me names," the scout smiled ruefully. "Mostly she drifted in and out. Our healer had me dose her as needed with an elfroot concoction to keep her comfortable, but it didn't half make the elf sleepy. "
Astlyr was already lost in thought. She scratched the base of a horn, her mind a busy blur again. "Your team was alright when you left them?"
"Yes, ma'am. And so am I," the man stood to demonstrate, "Nothing ails me that a little food and water wouldn't fix right up." As if on cue one of the healers bustled over to push the man back down into a sitting position and press a mug of tea, and a small loaf with cheese sandwiched on it, into his hands. "Cheers," Edward said, smiling and taking a bite of his meal.
"Astlyr, Cassandra," Cullen motioned with a nod for friends to step aside and chat. Astlyr knew that Varric and Myfanwy were hovering just outside the infirmary, but she wasn't ready to include them in her musings just yet. "This sounds hopeful. I know we were worried about our Long Riders, and it sounds as though his unit is alright, at least."
"You're right, of course," Astlyr agreed. "I'm jumping at shadows. Our scouts are merely being thorough before sending back reports"
"It's understandable for you to be concerned after we lost so many at Halamshiral," said Cullen sympathetically, touching her elbow.
"Get that creepy thing away from me!" Sera's voice was a shrill and loud. Everyone turned to see the young woman struggling to sit up and pointing an accusatory finger at Cole, who backed away obediently. Then the elf hesitated and looked about herself, as though finally recognizing her surroundings. She caught sight of Astlyr and company, her eyes widening, "How'd I get back here?"
"I brought you," the scout waved helpfully from his bed.
"Nuts to you, human. What, you want a tearful 'thank you'? Not bloody likely. I was doin' fine on my own. Didn't ask to be brought no where." She tried again to sit and only managed to prop herself up on her elbows.
Audra was not about to take any lip, "You, missy, have frostbite on your hands and feet, a bad head wound and several lacerations on your legs. If the scout hadn't found you and doctored you up, you would have died of exposure and that's all there is to it. Now be still while we try to save your fingers. You shan't be using that fancy bow of yours without them! You're lucky you didn't catch pneumonia."
Sera scowled and harrumphed but did not seem to have the energy to struggle. Varric, clearly unable to keep to the hallway any longer, strode into the room. Myfanwy was his reserved shadow, hanging well back from Sera. The last time the two elves had interacted it had not gone well. Cole came and took his place beside Myfanwy as if both were children made to stand in the corner. "How are you doing, Buttercup?" Varric asked, managing to be at Sera's side, and out of the way of the healers at the same time.
"Varric, you're still here? I thought you would've had the sense to go home ages ago." Sera said as a healer gingerly applied a salve and bandaged her fingers. They had turned an unhealthy dark blue at the very tips.
"Ah, you know me, I like to stay where the action is. Besides, Kirkwall in winter is not a pleasant place. All the shit just freezes over. No one wants that. But what happened to you out there, kiddo?" Varric asked in his gentle, husky voice. Astlyr caught on at once. If she and her fellow leaders asked for details, the normally prickly Sera might clam up, especially as she was obviously chilled and in pain. But Varric, good old pal Varric, could make it seem like conversation. Like concern rather than a pressing need for information; though Astlyr knew that in Varric's case it was both.
"Well, after I left you toadies to stew in your own juices, I struck out on my own, but I didn't fancy livin' out in the woods like them elfy elves, so I found a big city." Sera explained as an apprentice healer handed her a bowl of warm soup. She ignored the spoon and swigged directly from the rim of the bowl.
"Denerim?"
"I dunno what it was called," Sera shrugged as though this were the least important thing in the world.
"Did it have an alienage?" Varric asked, trying valiantly to keep a casual tone to the conversation.
"Yeah. I went there because that's where all the little people live. I wanted to see if I could find some Jennies, or maybe start a new chapter. Kick up a little interest in not being kicked, y'know?"
"I do indeed," Varric smiled warmly.
"Things were good, yeah? I was making havoc, as usual, and the elves around that place were nice enough. A little hand-shy and squirrely, but trainable. It was goin' great right up until a few days ago. Then these other elves show up, all swagger, and cocky as fuck. Acting like their shit smells like diamonds."
Astlyr raised an eyebrow and Varric shot her a quick 'I have no idea' glance before he focused back on Sera's tale. The elf pressed on as a healer dabbed at a nasty cut just below her hairline on the back of her head. "These elves, I dunno what their problem was, but there were spouting all kinds of shite about the rights of elves to lead, and rule, and all that. Some piss about gods and 'times that were'," she gestured with a bandaged hand to express how stupid all of it was, almost spilling her soup.
Astlyr almost made a sound, but managed to contain herself. She could see Varric's shoulders tense, just slightly. Beside her, Cullen took in a breath and Cas was gripping her crossed arms tightly. Varric cleared his throat, obviously uncertain how to proceed. "So a couple of bossy elves came in and you just left? That doesn't sound like you."
"Nah, I didn't scarper right off," Sera took another swig of her soup. "I told that noisy fucker he was full of piss and that the humans didn't care what elves said, so he could take his high and mighty talk and shove it up where the sun don't shine."
"That sounds more like you," Varric's eyes wrinkled at the corners as he smiled. "What happened then?"
"He hung around, like a bad cold you just can't shake, swaying some people to his weird way of thinkin', but I wasn't worried. He told me I was 'foolish', but I wasn't listening of course. Too busy doing my own business, shaking up nobles and stirring up shit. Getting them what was kicked to kick back, no matter if they was elf or dwarf or whatever. Then, after a little while, I think old efly britches started to get fed up. Started taking serious offense to how the humans around the place treated the elves. He got all uppity, an' he didn't do it smart. Him and his cronies started jumping any human walking alone at night. Once even brought down a guard. They sure weren't doing the elves any favors like that. I told 'em so myself. Told 'em that you have to do little things to help the little people, and then they jumped me too."
"Jumped you?" Varric raised his eyebrows with concern.
"Yeah. Sneaky fucks. I was just having a nice walk around, yeah? Minding my own. Then they was on me like a ferret on an egg, only I squicked free and ran off. Ran right out of that city and I don't plan on goin' back. Things were shite there anyway. Everything smelled of ass." She set down her empty bowl and snuggled into the pillows and blankets. Freshly bandaged and fed she was beginning to look drowsy.
"Right. Most places do after a while," Varric agreed, gently tucking the elf in.
"Things are the same here, right?" Sera mumbled. "You still got your own elfy types cutting around, too big for their britches? You keepin' them in line, Inky?"
Astlyr saw Varric bite back his answer, instead giving Sera a fond smile, "You know how Skyhold is. Nothing here is ever simple. But I like to think we smell marginally less of ass."
"I'll have to give the old place a sniff when I wake up, yeah. See if it smells like home." Sera let her heavy lids fall and was soon open mouthed and snoring gently.
Varric waited until she seemed truly lost to slumber before standing and joining Astlyr and her leadership circle. "Well...that's a thing."
"She only mentioned a few elves," Cassandra, ever the voice of reason, reminded them. "And all they were doing was evangelizing about the elvehn gods. I hardly think it a threat."
Astlyr clucked her tongue, "you're probably right. I still don't like it though. All those slave markets in Tevinter attacked. Alienages emptied without a word, and we have yet to hear any news of Fereldan's Dalish returning. I wish we knew how long those 'elfy elves'-" she made air quotes as she spoke of them, "were in Denerim."
"We had no call for aid from the city," Cas pointed out.
"Of course not," Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. "It's an internal issue. Just a few elves getting rowdy and soon to be dealt with. You don't call for Skyhold when you have the king's army right there."
Astlyr didn't like the sound of that, but let her mind carry on its train of thought, "Anything to do with elves makes me nervous these days. I want crows sent to Denerim, just to check in on our scouts, make sure everything is going alright."
"I will inform Josephine," Cas said, moving to depart.
Astlyr turned back to the scout, who looked earnestly up at her, "thank you for bringing Sera back home," she said, extending a hand for him to shake This he did, with the look of one meeting a childhood hero. She had to admit that, while the adoration could get old, it was still nice to be admired from time to time.
"No trouble, ma'am. Once Feather and I have had a good rest we'll be heading back out to rejoin our unit."
"You've earned an extended stay here at Skyhold, if you like," she offered.
"No thanks," he grinned, "I want to find out what my ol' crew is up to without me. I hate for people to find things out before I do."
"I expect that is why you make a good scout," Astlyr clapped him on the shoulder a bit too firmly. She caught his wince and gave him an apologetic smile before she and Cullen left the infirmary.
During the next week in Skyhold everything fell into rhythm. Astlyr had ensured that Sera had a room made up for her in the tavern and decked out in all the belongings her friend had left behind when she had departed the first time. Though the elf put on a good show of being grumpy, especially when she saw that Fen'harel and Myfanwy were not only still around, but allowed to wander the keep freely, she allowed herself to settle back in. Astlyr suspected, though the rouge would never admit it, that Sera had missed her fortress home. At least she did seem pleased when she noted that Fen wasn't acting the god and lording it over anyone, but rather behaving as one of the team. She didn't think much of Dirthamen, but she didn't seem to mind him, as his easy manner made him quick to befriend others and he never carried himself with anything approaching a superior air. Sera was not introduced to Ghilan'nain.
Astlyr and her fellow leaders kept their ears to the ground for any sign of coming danger. None came, though Astlyr suspected that no news was not good news in this case. Not a single crow had returned from Denerim. No word had come from any of the scouting parties in the area and it made Astlyr decidedly edgy. So much so that Cole was her constant shadow. She felt guilty for monopolizing his concern, but he assured her that if he sensed any pressing pain, he would go to whoever needed him.
Iron Bull and the Chargers had returned to resupply and rest up before heading out again. They had moved southward, investigating deep into the Hinterlands, and had discovered nothing of note.
Almost two weeks from Sera's return, and with no sign of any word from Denerim, Astlyr was getting fed up. She paced Josephine's office like a tiger. Cullen slouched in a chair, attempting to play a game of chess with Cassandra, but having no luck keeping either of their attentions on the game.
"Not a single crow. No scouts have made it back from that area and I don't dare send others. I need to check this out," Astlyr growled, for probably the third time that evening.
Cullen did his best to keep his voice relaxed, though it was a poor cloak for the unease that he too obviously felt. "We cannot set out today. Evening is upon as and we'd be charging straight into a winter night in the foothills of the mountain. Not a good start to any journey."
"Then we head out at first light. I should gather the team." Astlyr said, striking her fist against her palm as though she had just hit on a brilliant idea. Josie actually chuckled at her and Astlyr gave the diplomat a warning glare.
"If you go, you shall hardly be subtle," Josephine reminded them. "Our scouting parties were intended to go unseen. You, on the other hand, are difficult to miss. You keep illustrious company as well. You'll turn heads, as you always do."
"At this point I don't care," Astlyr grouched.
"Checkmate," Cullen flicked a piece into position on the board.
"Ach, damn," Cassandra made a disgusted noise and tipped her king over with resignation.
"Come on, Astlyr," Cullen urged his agitated lover, "let's retire. I left a few important papers in your quarters, as I recall."
Astlyr went with Cullen, ignoring the sniggers from both women in their wake. "That was weak," she wrinkled her nose at the man as he stood and led the way towards the door, reaching a hand back to her. She hooked his fingers lightly with her own as they went.
"Well, I really did leave some papers in your rooms," Cullen protested, "but they're hardly crucial ones." He blushed, "I suppose I could have come up with a better excuse. I just wanted to get you out of there before you wore a hole through the floor."
"The stone floor?"
"If anyone could do it, it'd be you," Cullen smirked as he opened the door to her quarters and they climbed the stairs together.
They began with a tension relieving massage. All intent was to take things farther, once they were both in a more relaxed frame of mind, but it was not to be. As Astlyr gently worked loose the small muscles in Cullen's right hand with her fingertips, and the man melted with pleasure, the alarm bell sounded once again.
Both were up and moving as though someone had scalded them. The main hall was quiet, almost deserted as night came on. Even Varric had abandoned his usual spot, likely in favor of the pub. Dorian appeared, having obviously been in the library. He threw a cloak over his casual robes and rushed to join them. No words were spoken. None were needed.
This time the portcullis was not sliding open to admit a rider. Instead guards were streaming to the walltops, bows in hand, torches being put out along the wall so as to conceal their position and keep their night vision sharp. Astlyr took the wall stairs three at a time, easily outpacing the two men.
Cassandra was already on the wall, scanning the snowy landscape with a practiced eye. "Soldiers," she reported as Astlyr joined her. The moon was almost full that night, and as it reflected off the snow, Astlyr's vision adjusted quickly. She could make out the mass of warriors Cas had indicated heading towards Skyhold with intent.
"Quiet the bell," Astlyr ordered. Word went around to the watch tower and moments later the alarm bell fell silent. The guards nearest her watched Astlyr for orders, their breath visibly ghosting from their lips into the frigid night. Had Astlyr not been so tense she might have realized that she was freezing. Instead she merely scrutinized the oncoming unknown element.
"We have mages on the wall as well," Dorian pointed out in a hushed tone. "Should you need them, they're also waiting your command."
It had taken Skyhold's magic users slightly longer to turn out than the guard, as they had been rousted from dinners and beds rather than barracks. Still, Astlyr had to admit she was impressed with their speed. They were eager as ever to prove themselves useful rather than a liability to Skyhold, and in turn, to all of Fereldan.
"Ma'am," Jones was at Astlyr's elbow then. "Do we draw bows?"
"Not yet," Astlyr said. "Knock arrows only, wait to draw." She peered into the moonlit gloom and something caught her eye. "A flag," she muttered, almost too quietly for the others to hear. Below her she saw the shape of Alun, the stone wolf, standing sentry. He too awaited orders, his head cocked, ears pricked and intent.
"Can you tell whose?" Dorian asked, trying to follow Astlyr's keen gaze.
"It looks like..." Astlyr hesitated, uncertain. The strange company of soldiers had stopped advancing some distance from the bridge which led to Skyhold. The bridge upon which a large wolf statue was positioned. One of the riders broke off from the sloppy columns and cantered forward, flag in hand. He didn't make it far before Alun stood up and his horse spooked wildly, tossing the rider to the snow. The man had managed to come close enough, however, Astlyr had gotten a good glimpse of the flag. What appeared to be two lionesses rampant over a white and gold shield. The symbol of the king's family line. "Well bugger me sideways," Astlyr muttered.
"Who are they?" Cassandra asked, watching as the rider scrambled about trying to decide whether to catch his fleeing horse or raise the flag. Astyr could actually hear laughter coming from the mounted contingent as the man fumbled, finally deciding on the flag and raising it again, he waved it from side to side, fervently.
"Maker's breath! King Alistair?" Cullen gasped.
"We have no proof of that," Cas reminded him, tersely.
"Alun!" Astlyr called down to the wolf, "let them draw nearer!"
The stone animal snorted with distrust, then withdrew to one side of the stone bridge, indicating as best he could without language, that the oncoming riders could come closer to the gates.
"Have we got Inquisition flags flying?" Cullen began fussing around, talking to various guards. "How does the courtyard look. Maker, if it is the king we're not at our best."
"Be calm," Cassandra urged the templar, "we have been playing host to the Inquisition's army. He cannot expect perfection. We are a military instillation after all."
A small party of a dozen riders came forward next, their hoof beats clattering loudly on the stones of the bridge which led to the only entrance to Skyhold. The rider in the lead was wearing an impressive suit of armor, it glinted golden in the moonlight, as did the crown he wore. "Well, he certainly looks like the king," Astlyr pointed out.
"Hail, The Fortress!" as lead rider called in a loud, clear voice.
"Hail, Riders!" Astlyr called back. At her signal a few torches were re-lit so that those on the ground could see Astlyr and her people above. "You bear the flag of the royal family."
"That's because I am the royal family. Well, one of them."
Astlyr stifled a grin. She had only heard the king's voice once before, and that had been face to face, not from such distance, but she remembered being struck by the tone. The decidedly common accent. She heard it again now and cleared her throat. "His majesty is welcome in Skyhold! Open the gates!"
"We thank you," the king called up to her as the great portcullis rose with the sound of crying metal.
Astlyr, Cullen, Cas, Dorian and Jones hurried to meet the visiting royalty as he rode in to the courtyard. Astlyr studied the soldiers still in the snowy field, positioning themslves to ride after their king towards Skyhold. Perhaps fifty warriors. Normally not overly taxing to Skyhold and its barracks, but at the moment she would be hard pressed to find them all places, what with her own army ensconced within the fortress.
King Alistair rode in at the head of his smaller group. His horse was a beautiful white beast with golden armor to match the king's. Two squires rode slightly behind him and one either side, one bearing his standard, the other his helmet. He had removed it so he might wear his crown alone, for better visibility. He smiled down at the stable hand who rushed to take the horse's reins. Everyone else in the courtyard looked uncertain whether to bow, or hurry to look busy and professional. What was the etiquette for late night visits from the king?
Both Cas and Cullen saluted with a fist over their heart and a bow from the waist. Astlyr imitated this, though she was not certain she was expected to. As Inquisitor, how did she stack up to a king? In time of war, her word might be regarded above his. "What brings you to our fortress, highness? This visit can hardly be a social call."
"Indeed it is not," the king's voice sounded more ragged now, and in the torchlight of the courtyard Astlyr could see that his eyes were dark with weariness and a few days' stubble stood out on his cheeks and strong jaw. He slouched in the saddle, well, as much as he could with his armor on. Heavy plate was painful to ride in at the best of times. Had he worn in every day of his journey from Denerim? "We have some dire news from the capitol." King Alistair eased himself from the saddle with much clanking of armor. As his feet hit the cobbles he stumbled and Astlyr caught his arm. This caused a fresh grimace.
"You're wounded? Do you need a healer?"
"No no," he waved off her concern, straightening once again to manage what might have been a regal bearing had he not looked so tired. "Hannah, my squire, has seen to it."
"Hannah?" Astlyr turned to see Jones charge forward towards one of the squires, who removed her helmet to reveal a blond braid and a round, smiling face. She too dismounted and was greeted by Jones with wild enthusiasm. "Inquisitor, this is my younger sister, Hannah!" Jones introduced, seeming to forget the illustrious company of their ruler in that moment.
Hannah stood a head taller than her older sister, and was the leaner of the pair, but their faces were so similar that, if put to the test, Astlyr wasn't certain she could tell one from the other by their features alone. The two women hugged, their armor clattering together as they did do. King Alistair, far from looking insulted by this display, fairly beamed. "Hannah told me she had sisters."
"Quite a few more, actually," the squire spoke as casually to her king as she would a fellow soldier. "This is my eldest, Esther. She's a guard here in Skyhold."
"Guard Captain," Jones puffed out her chest and showed off her armor a bit. Hannah raised her eyebrows in appropriate admiration.
"Sire," Cullen was looking embarrassed on Jones' behalf, even though neither sister seemed one bit concerned about the king standing in their midst. "Would you care to retire into the fortress. It will take some time to barrack your men, but I suspect you have much to discuss with us."
"Yes," King Alistair shook off his distraction. "Hannah, Jeremy, see that the horses are taken care of, then meet me inside. Oh, and check on the queen, would you?"
"The queen?" Cullen looked, if possible, even more alarmed.
"Yes," Alistair sighed with resignation, "my lovely wife is here as well. I left her back with the rest of the force as I wasn't certain you wouldn't shoot us. It is dark after all, and she does rather have issues with being shot."
Dorian, who was standing back from the group, let out a little snort of laughter. Alistair found him and gave him a quick smile and nod. "Your majesties will have to have my quarters," Astlyr decided. They were, after all, the largest and finest in Skyhold. She would have to share with her knight commander. Oh, what a hardship, she thought with a slight smile. "I'll have someone bring hot water for her majesty to bathe and recuperate while we talk with you."
"That sounds splendid," King Alistair said, not losing his jovial tone, even as he limped doggedly after Astlyr and her company.
The group went to Josie's office. It was private, but also had a fireplace and comfortable chairs. Cullen, as dutiful as any squire, helped King Alistair out of his armor. "We have an excellent healing mage who could fix that right up," Astlyr gestured to the neatly bandaged wound on the king's sword arm.
"Perhaps later," Alistair said, smiling a bit crookedly. He was looking her up and down, "I forget how tall your people are," he observed. "I knew a male qunari once. He was a big fellow too. And stoic. Never cracked a smile, seemed to think it would break his face...ahhh, much better," he exhaled as the last piece of armor was freed from him. He flopped down into a chair, ignoring the fact that he was sweaty, a little bloody, and had acquired the rank smell of one who spent days on the road in plate armor. Astlyr almost smiled at this. No one thought of kings being battle ragged. They were always supposed to be handsome and smell of roses.
Astlyr took up another chair, pulling it close to their guest, who almost seemed ready to fall asleep. Dorian had gone for food and warm drinks, but Astlyr wasn't certain that the king would be able to keep his eyes open long enough for the mage to return. She touched his knee, which made Cullen's eyes flick towards her. Touching the king was a special thing reserved for squires, fellow nobles, and his wife. For his part, Alistair did not seem to notice this small infraction, instead managing to sit up straighter and open heavily lidded eyes. "What happened, your majesty?" Astlyr asked, still sitting forward, her eyes intense.
"I'm going to sound mad for saying this," King Alistair said with a rueful smile, rubbing his injured arm, "but the palace was attacked."
"Attacked?!" Cassandra, who had been moving about the room, quietly putting more wood on the fire and stirring it to life, stood in alarm.
"Yes," the king sighed, managing to look almost somber. He seemed to have a perpetual glint of mischief in his eyes no matter what he did. "Took us completely by surprise and we were forced to retreat."
"Who would have dared attack the royal city and the palace itself?" Cullen asked, his hackles obviously raised.
"You won't believe it, but it was elves. A whole army of them."
"Elves?" Astlyr met the eyes of her advisers with dark understanding.
The king cleared his throat and spoke again, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees. "We have no idea where they came from, but they brought a dragon with them."
***** Whoa, Sera is back! And the king is here (as promised) But elves...elves and gods are a-comin'! What will happen next? Stay tuned for next week's exciting chapter!
Just like with the Fen'Harel god discussion from last chapter, my hubby and I rp'ed the Cullen Astlyr conversation as well. I hope it feels in character for them both. My hubby was Cullen, and I was on Astlyr's side. No, we didn't film it. We improved while putting away groceries LOL
Ps. I still have yet to take the time to figure out where I got my chapter numbers fucked up. If you happen to notice when that happened, let me know! 3
Next: 8/13/15
Keep up to date with my author page here on FB: pages/Emily-Luebke-Author/283743888311991
Help me out by checking out the first chapter of an exciting fantasy novel called "The White Rose" which I might work on after I finish Old Gods!
art/The-White-Rose-Chapter-one-sample-chapter-549484071 ****