"Inquisitor, I'm sorry to wake you, but we're home." Leliana murmured, causing Nethra's eyes to flutter open. "We have only a few days of rest before we march on Adamant. I would suggest you get some training and sleep. Solas would also like to consult you about the Fade. Be sure to see him."
Nethra frowned. She looked out the carriage door and spotted the bald elf walking up Skyhold's stairs into the main building.
"For now, we would like to discuss a few thing in the War Room. Please come with me, Inquisitor."
The elf followed Leliana to the War Room. The doors opened to reveal Cullen and Josephine.
"Congratulations, Inquisitor." Josephine began, "The Winter Palace was a success. We now have the Empress' army at our disposal, ready to march for Adamant.
"I've already receive numerous letters requesting to know if our Commander is available for marriage." The spymaster smirked.
"I am not interested in any one of those people." Cullen's face was slowly turning pink.
"There were quite a few inquiring about you as well, Inquisitor."
"Me?" Nethra's eyes grew wide.
"Yes. Quite a few were impressed with your gown. Take a look at some of the letters if you'd like. You may find some-"
"I'm sure the Inquisitor has better things to do than look through letters half-written by some conceited Orlesian." Cullen interrupted with a frown wrinkling his face. "We were here to discuss plans, were we not?"
Leliana and Josephine exchanged a look before continuing with the meeting. Nethra peered over to Cullen, who was still as red as a beet.
Once the meeting finished, Nethra headed over to Solas' rotunda. The apostate had already entered his room when Nethra strode in. "Solas, it's been long enough that you should have found something by now about these dreams and that…thing."
"Would you prefer the Commander to tell you?" He murmured, refusing eye contact.
"I would prefer the truth."
The elf flipped through pages on his desk. "It's as I've suspected before. You have a piece of an old Elvhen spirit inside of you."
"Ghilan'nain."
"Indeed. However, your dreams have previously been non-violent. You've never attempted to jump from a height before. Do you recall your trip back from the approach? You marched through the Exalted Plains and camped at…"
"Ghilan'nain's Grove!"
"Did anything happen there? I recall you wandering off for a moment or two."
"I…yes. I found a statue of a woman. A will-o-the-wisp brought me there. When I touched it…"
"It felt like the earth was quaking."
"Solas…what…"
Solas finally reached a page titled 'Descendants of the Evanuris'. "There have been many instances of Elven pantheon recurring in dreams. Many come in the shape of animals or a holy light. When the dreamers come in contact with a statue or area devoted to an Elven god, they have reported strange activities while sleeping. Many have resulted in death or injury. It is unknown if the victims are truly connected to the gods or if they are simply ill or hallucinating."
"A Descendant?"
"It is the only sensible explanation."
"But…the Creators are lost. Their presence doesn't linger here."
"Much of what you were taught as a child is not true. The Dalish have created their own explanations for things."
The female elf frowned. "How do you know they're wrong Solas? How do you assume to know anything more than the Dalish? What makes you so special?"
"There are things I know and have done that would shock you." He almost whispered.
"What the blight is that supposed to mean?" Nethra sighed. "Well, thank you for the help at least, Solas." She trudged out the room.
"You ready for Adamant?" A voice sounded from the fireplace just outside of Solas' atrium.
"As ready as I'll ever be."
"Good. The Commander has been planning this for months. If anyone is prepared, it's him." Varric poured out some spiced wine from a tankard into a smaller cup. "Would you like a seat, Inquisitor?"
Nethra stepped toward the chair to the right of the fireplace, crossing her leg over the other after sitting.
"All this socializing has me exhausted." The elf sighed, sinking into the soft chair.
"Kid, anyone would be exhausted if they had to deal with Chuckles every day." They chuckled in unison. "That's the first time I've seen you laugh in months. Seriously, Jailbird, you need a day off."
"What would you suggest, Varric? A bath in the ice cold river outside the fortress or a manicure courtesy of Blackwall's axe?"
"Well, we could start with some ale." The dwarf smirked.
The Herald's Rest was complete anarchy. Between the tankards being tossed around and the cheering over the arm-wrestling matches, Nethra could barely make out the bard's song. Sera was screaming filthy words at Iron Bull with a grin that could kill, and the Qunari was huffing and puffing like a dwarf who had just escaped a Deep Roads attack. Krem was chuckling in the corner of the room and Blackwall was giving Iron Bull backseat advice.
"Use your wrist! Put your back into it!" He shouted, swaying back and forth with a goblet of wine in his hand.
"You think I'm not doing that?!" Bull growled, veins popping out of his biceps. "She's stronger than she looks!"
"Damn straight, piss-gobbler!"
"I dare say," Dorian mumbled from the right of Nethra, covering the bottom half of his face with his left hand. "The Iron Bull may very well succeed."
"I don't know about that. Looks like Sera's going to win this match." Varric smirked.
"Who said anything about the match?" Dorian's cheeks were a little more flushed than usual. His eyes were glossy and his lips were a little poutier than usual as he stared down the hulking Qunari.
"Dorian!" Nethra hissed, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol, "Keep it in your pants!"
"Now, that would just be a complete disservice."
Iron Bull's forearm smashed into the wooden table. The crowd roared. The entire building rumbled from the cheers.
"Yeaaaaah!" Sera hopped up in down, throwing her arms into the air. "Pay up, ya greasy drunks! Drinks on Bull!"
Cheers erupted from the tavern. Nethra felt as if they could shake all of Skyhold if they got any louder.
After about five more tankards, Nethra said her goodbyes to the tavern residents, stumbling back to the main building of the fortress. Before she could even get up the stairs, she fell into a bush, letting out an "oof!" on impact.
Frantic steps approached her, but she was too dizzy to look.
"Maker's breath, Nethra." A pair of warm hands pulled her up out of the bush, standing her up slowly. "Is that where you've been? The tavern?"
"…Jusss…wannet to have a gunnite." She slurred, rocking back and forth.
"Well, I hope it was all you wanted. You certainly aren't going to have a good morning." His golden locks shone in the moonlight. Nethra reached up to his head, pressing her fingertips to his hair. "What are you…"
"Isss not curly annmore." She stared at the Commander, her eyes glazed over in a drunken haze. The man froze for a moment before erupting in laughter.
"By the Maker, we need to get you into your bed." He spoke through a grin. He wrapped an arm around the elf's side to keep her from wobbling before walking her up the stairs.
"I like yer laugh." She smiled lazily. "Iss been a while."
"Yes, I suppose it has." He gave her a small smile.
The walk up the Inquisitor's staircase probably took around an hour. Nethra would have bruises for weeks from her stumbling, much to Cullen's dismay. He did not want her to hurt herself, but she was making it very hard to help. The Commander finally laid her down onto her massive bed, slowly taking her boots off. He brought her furs up to her neck, pausing when she grabbed his hand.
"Cullen." She mumbled.
"What is it?" They locked eyes for a long while. "You should… Go to sleep." He was so quiet it was barely a whisper. "I don't know what you did, but I'll pray to the Maker that you don't remember a thing." He smirked.
"Probably for the bess."
Cullen smiled once more before planting a small peck on her forehead. Before he could move away, she grabbed his fur cloak, pulling him back in. She kissed him hard on the lips, her breath drenched in alcohol. His were sweet, like the cookies they stole from the kitchens.
Cullen pulled away quickly, prying her hand off his cloak. "I can't. Not while you're…this way." He backed away, moving to the stairs. His steps faded off into the distance.
Nethra gripped her pillow.
Please review/favourite/follow! I'm working on a separate Cullen story so please be on the lookout for that! :) Have a nice day.