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Interlocking
Chapter Thirty Four: Always
"He catches her questioning gaze and clears his throat. 'Quæsíverat. Semper memorata. Semper amavit.'" - Krem and Harding find each other in a world torn apart. A story told in brief glimpses.
Krem is hardly back in Skyhold three minutes before Harding is pulling him into one of the emptied towers and pushing him back against the door. His laugh is caught by her mouth, her hand fisted in his tunic as she pulls him down to her. His smirk is short-lived, his mouth forming a silent 'o' when her hands have found their way past his armor and beneath his belt.
It is only minutes before they are naked and sweat-slicked and collapsed against the door.
Krem gathers her hair in his gentle fingers and presses a kiss to her temple.
"Welcome back Harding!" Iron Bull's sonorous bellow fills the tavern as mugs around the Chargers' table are raised.
Harding looks around the warm faces in eager curiosity.
Bull pulls a bow from behind him and hands it to Harding.
Krem's smile is wide, his hand resting at the small of her back as she reaches for the present across the table.
"What's this?" she breathes in quiet wonder, her hands wrapping reverently along the smooth wood.
Bull swallows his large gulp of ale and plops his tankard down on the table. "Just a little something from the gang," he offers, wiping his mouth with his arm, a wide smile left in place. "Now that we'll be seeing you back on the field."
Harding cannot take her eyes from the sturdy, graceful bow, her fingers running tenderly along the length of it. "But…you didn't…"
"Course we did," Skinner interrupts, nudging the awed dwarf with an elbow. "You're family now."
Harding glances up at Skinner, eyes wet with tears she isn't prepared for.
"Aw, shit, she's gonna cry," Rocky chuckles into his mug of ale.
"Am not," Harding shoots back with a shaky smile, her eyes narrowing playfully.
There is laughter around the table. She wipes across her nose with her free hand and looks back down to the bow. Grim grunts as he reaches for the bow, turning it over in her hands so that she catches the mark of lettering along the wood. She eyes it intently, brows furrowed, and then looks up at Grim as he silently sits back in his chair. "What's it say?"
"It's Tevene," Bull answers, spreading an arm across the back of his chair, his eyes dancing toward Krem.
Harding looks up at him beside her.
Krem leans against the table and takes the bow in his hands, running his fingers along the carved words. His smile speaks of memory and longing. "Old Tevene promise." He catches her questioning gaze and clears his throat. "Quæsíverat. Semper memorata. Semper amavit."
Something stirs in her as he says the words.
He hands the bow back to her and she takes it slowly, gently, with the hesitant touch of someone who knows how easy breaking is. And how to cradle close that which isn't ready to be let go.
Krem brushes a strand of hair from her cheek. "Always sought. Always remembered. Always loved."
Bull smiles into his mug. Dalish calls him something in elvish that has the others laughing.
And Harding simply looks at him. Her smile is slow-blooming and confident. "What a mush," she chuckles.
And he is.
And she loves it.
Harding fastens her coat around her as Krem holds her water skin out. She smiles her thanks and reaches into her mount's saddlebag to place the skin.
"Emprise, huh?" Krem asks, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks off past the gate.
Harding blows a breath through her lips and closes her saddlebag. "Certainly not looking forward to that one."
"Too much snow?"
"Too many pompous Orlesians."
Krem chuckles.
Harding sobers as she tightens the strap of her saddle along her mount. "But if reports are right," she starts, her shoulders falling slightly, "then the red lyrium's coming out of that place."
Krem purses his lips. "And that'll be a serious advantage for Corypheus when we head into the Wilds."
Harding nods, rubbing her hands together in the chill. "I know the Inquisitor wants to head into the Arbor Wilds as soon as possible but Commander Cullen thinks this might be big."
Krem is silent for a moment, nudging the snow at his feet with the toe of his boot.
Harding reaches for his hand. "We'll send for you if we need. Right now, a scouting complement's best."
His fingers lace with hers through their gloves, his eyes warm on hers. "Then it's a good thing they've got you back."
Harding sighs in mild relief, tugging on his hand softly so that he leans toward her and she plants a lingering kiss along his lips. "Thank you," she whispers against his mouth. His other hand is holding her head to him as he deepens the kiss, reveling in her taste, trying to make it last, and then he pulls from her reluctantly.
His thumb brushes along her cheek and then his hand is back at his side. He pulls a deep breath in. "Make me proud."
Harding feels the weight of her new bow along her back. It is reassuring. Anchoring. Promising. She squeezes his hand and knows the weight of love.
Constant and steady and sure.
"Always."