"It's the Inquisitor. Open the gates!"
Lavellan felt her lips quirk up into a smile for what she felt was the first time in weeks as the guards on the wall scrambled to draw the gates for their party. The gates should have been open upon her arrival, but she knew that they didn't exactly look the part at the moment. She didn't look like the blessed Herald of Andraste, leader of the Inquisition and her friends looked nothing like the honorable, faithful companions who helped her right the evils that reigned chaos across Thedas. She imagined they all looked rather pathetic right now in their dirt crusted armor and downtrodden mounts. Cassandra was sporting a thick bandage on her arm from where she was horribly bitten by a living corpse. Varric looked downright miserable on the pony he was forced to travel on, and she could have sworn his chest hair was droopier than usual. And Solas, well he looked more like a hobo apostate that he had ever before. She had a feeling that even her horse was depressed after the shitshow that was Crestwood. Her time there had not been a pleasant one to say the least, and if she saw any more damnable corpses that could walk and fight on their own, it would be much too soon.
As the portcullis lifted up, the sounds of Skyhold came at her like a rush. The low drone of the wounded echoed through the courtyard, but it was layered and masked by the merchants plying their goods to anyone who would listen, the clanking of swords as recruits practiced their drills, and the shouts and laughs of the masses wandering about their business. She smiled. There was no place like home, and this felt more a home to her than the creaking wheels of an araval ever did.
As they made their way inside the courtyard, the people parted as if forced by magic, letting them through while bowing and curtsying. She heard shouts of "Welcome back Inquisitor!" and "Maker bless you Herald!" ring out from all sides of the courtyard. She smiled at the attention, trying to sit up a little straighter on her horse. She knew that the reason so many were here were because of the stories they had heard of her. Mother Giselle and Josephine always told her that stories had power, and the stories of her spoke of a woman blessed by the Maker and able to right the wrongs of the world. The least she could do was be friendly and open to those who made the Inquisition more than rebel Chantry sisters, mercenaries for hire, and a handful of apostates, so she smiled softly at the crowd as the group made their way towards the stable.
She was just dismounting her horse and handing the reigns to the stable boy when a familiar voice rang out from behind her.
"Well, look who finally managed to drag herself home." She looked behind her with a huge smile growing on her face.
"Dorian!" she cried, forcing her sore legs to cooperate. She ran over and tackled the poor man as he climbed down the final stair from the kitchens.
He caught her easily, letting out a small "umph" when she threw herself onto his chest. He hugged her tight before softly putting her down, his customary smirk already settled on his face as he faced her. "You do realize that that was completely barbaric of you. Rules of decorum my dear, you should consider learning them. "
She simply smiled even bigger and quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why bother when you and Vivienne have so much fun correcting me? I would hate to deprive you both of that joy."
He looked down at her, fake shock written all over his features. "I do believe my witty nature has finally rubbed off on you. It is simply a miracle."
She snorted in response.
"Or not," he said with an exaggerated sigh of disappointment. "I see you prefer to mimic the horses you so love rather than use your words like a civilized person."
She elbowed him in the side before leaning into him. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, and hers wound around his waist, they just stood there silent for a few moments in the shade watching the rest of her companions unload the horses. She could see that a few of the others had made their way into the courtyard to welcome them back. She sighed with exhaustion as she leaned more heavily on Dorian.
"We were getting worried," Dorian said from above her, his voice softer than she had heard it in a while. "We kept getting reports, but there was little news of you."
"I know," she said, apology heavy in her voice. "There just wasn't any time. Between the corpses and saving the town…"
"Well, you need to learn to make time. People here worry about you."
She squeezed his waist tightly before letting go. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.
They stood there in a companionable silence for another few moments before Dorian pulled away slightly, causing her to look up at him. The beginnings of a smirk grew on his face as he caught her gaze. "I do so dislike most people. I do not want to go through the process of finding a new friend. It can be so tiresome and trying. "
She couldn't help it. She snorted again then laughed even harder at the appalled look on his face.
"You are utterly ridiculous," she said, still giggling away.
"I fear we have differing views on what is ridiculous, my dear," he sniffed, arms crossed as he looked down at her with an eyebrow raised.
She smirked up at him when suddenly her stomach gave the largest growl she had ever heard. She looked in shock down at her stomach as Dorian gave a chuckle.
"How positively uncouth," he said, smirking away as she continued to look at her stomach, "though in all seriousness, when is the last time you ate?"
"Umm, I think it was last night," she said, wracking her brains to try and remember when the last time she had to suffer through a bowl of Cassandra's porridge was.
"Of course it was," he replied with a sigh, "how about we get some food for you, and then we can head to the library. I have been chest high in books since you left and I think I finally managed to find a tome referring to Corypheus."
"That's amazing! Where did you find it?"
With that, the two of them made their way up the stairs towards the kitchens, heads pressed together talking a mile a minute plotting the next step they could take against Corypheus. They were completely unaware with the three sets of eyes watching them ascend the stairs.
Cullen and Bull stood just off to the side of the stables. They had been teaching the new recruits together, Bull having finally been convinced that his experience would in fact be helpful. They had been going over ways to counter Red Templar attacks in the courtyard when the Inquisitor and her group had come through the gates. They had heard very little from the Inquisitor during her time away, and were beginning to worry when they received a raven stating that she would be returning later that day. The recruits had been losing concentration for the last hour of their training, and seeing the Inquisitor return only served to make them lose it entirely. So the pair dismissed them instead, and made their way through the crowd to visit the returning group themselves.
Cullen was nearing the stables when he saw her dismount her horse more gracefully than any woman he had ever known. He smiled softly as she handed the reins to the stable boy then began to pat her horse gently. He admired the way she was with animals, especially the mounts. They always seemed so calm around her, and he would often find her in the stables brushing the horses and humming softly to them. Her yell jolted him from his daydream, and he reached instinctively for his sword when he realized that she was in fact running towards Dorian.
He watched her leap at the man, who proceeded to hug her fiercely before setting her down on the ground. He looked on in jealousy as she poked Dorian in the side and proceeded to lean herself against him. Cullen could tell she was exhausted; it radiated from every muscle in her body and he had never seen herself to be so vulnerable with anyone before.
He felt a hand clasp his shoulder. He looked up at Bull, who was watching the two friends across the courtyard as well. Bull smiled down at him, with a surprisingly understanding look in his eyes.
"I just…" Cullen started to say, wanting to explain himself. He struggled with his words for a moment, when he simply sighed at himself, a small smile mixed with yearning creeping up on his face. "I just hope that someday she will trust me that much."
"I get that," said Bull, something flashing in his eyes before he pulled his hand away and began to walk towards the stables, probably to cajole Varric into joining him for a midday drink. Cullen stopped, confused by Bulls words. But he saw the looks Bull shot towards the pair across the yard, and realized he wasn't the only one who struggled with unrequited feelings. As he watched the pair walk towards the kitchens together, he shook himself out of his thoughts. There was work that needed to be done, and he had to keep his head about him. In fact, he needed to have a serious discussion with Cassandra about just that. So he pushed his feelings down, and made his way over to the Seeker, ready to have a discussion that was long overdue.
Solas watched from the inside of the stables where he stood wiping down his horse. The young boy had tried to insist that he could do it instead, but Solas refused. He had ridden the animal, used it for its gifts and now he would care for it once he was finished. So he stood, brush in hand and hidden in plain sight from prying eyes, watching his vehnan laugh and lean on the Tevinter mage.
No. He mentally cursed himself for his slip. She was not his vehnan and she could never be. He couldn't allow it. He had a mission to complete, one that could not be hindered by emotional entanglements. He was here to regain his orb and help the People, and he couldn't stray from that path. He had made a mess of things before, it was time to put things right.
He could keep telling himself that, remind himself of his goals and plans to fix the world he shattered, but whenever he saw her eyes light up with happiness because of him, a wave of jealousy crashed through his mind. He wanted to be the one to make her smile with joy, something he saw her do less and less as time went on. He feared that all too soon the light inside her would flicker out completely with the pressures of command so heavily tied to her slender shoulders. He knew better than anyone that power has a twisted way of changing people…
He looked over at them again, and saw that the human had an arm around her shoulders, and hers was wound around his waist. His eyes narrowed in anger at another touching her that way, even if he knew it was platonic. He shook his head at the absurdity of his feelings. How he yearned to be the one she leaned on, like she leaned on Dorian, even though he knew the futility of such feelings. She was never so open with him; she was often curious, as he had knowledge that she could never access, and argumentative when they disagreed, but she never let herself go with him the way she was letting go right at this moment. He yearned for her to open up to him, let him into her soul, and her mind…
He was so caught up in his thoughts he almost missed them leaving. They seemed to be in the midst of an important conversation as they headed up the stairs towards the kitchen. His eyes never left her form as she walked up the stairs, head turned towards Dorian. He watched her vallaslin move upon her skin as she nodded and frowned at something Dorian had said. He continued brushing, and if anyone were to look at him, they would never guess his inner turmoil.
He refused to act on his feelings. There were more important things to focus his attentions on. The books in his study called to him, and he knew that as soon as his horse was cared for, he would pour himself into his research. Corypheus needed to be defeated, and the orb would once again be his. That is all that mattered. But still… The hold he had on his mind slipped and for a moment he was flooded with the image of holding her close, her unmarred face smiling up at him, his lips meeting hers under the stars.
No. He could not afford any distractions, no matter how beautiful or fiery they may be. As they climbed the last stair and disappeared through the door, his heart panged for a moment, then returned to normal. He sighed aloud, and then continued to brush the horse, trying to lose himself in the repetitive task and drown out all further thoughts of her.
Author's Note: First of all, I wanted to give some credit and applause to Boa Illustration. Their artwork inspired this chapter. You can see it on post/114176228930/because-sometimes-friendships-are-more-important Secondly I wanted to say thank you very much to everyone who has reviewed and favorited this story. I appreciate it more than I can say, and if you could, please let me know what you thought of this chapter :)