Dorian;
The Inquisitor was staring blankly at the Advisors, as were the other mages they had gathered for the meeting. It was an ambush, of sorts, and Lady Trevelyan had a deep dislike of traps she didn't craft herself.
"We realise you had private tutoring with the First Enchanter of the Ostwick Circle, and obviously passed your Harrowing, and so we, and the Seeker, feel that it would be extremely beneficial to the Inquisition if you would refrain from using blades in combat unless absolutely necessary." Dorian could feel the tension in the room rise at the words of Josephine. They were not intended to offend, but as far as he could tell, the inquisitor only prided herself on two things; her charm and her skill with a blade. Yet if was not Josephine the Inquisitor directed her gaze upon, it was the Seeker, Cassandra Pentaghast. She did not look angry in the slightest, only wounded. Apparently there was more to the issue than it seemed, but the Inquisitor smiled in time, a fierce, predatory thing. "I will do whatever the Inquisition deems necessary."
"I am sure any of the mages present would be more than happy to help you if you feel your-" Leliana picked up where Josephine left off, but it was doubtful the Inquisitor would hear, as she was now halfway down the stairs.
"With all due respect, Advisors, I've seen her fight, I don't think she needs any help from 'the mages', as you put it." Dorian was still mad at the redheaded bard for removing the choice of a compromise from their dealings with Alexius, dealings that they were all still recovering from.
The training yard was quiet, and Dorian was curious about what lay unspoken between the Inquisitor and the Seeker. Varric had not known when he had asked, only dissolved into a fit of laughter upon further speculation until he was no longer able to produce comprehensible words. Dorian only managed to glean 'thank you' and 'I had almost forgotten'.
She was hacking away at a training dummy, not her usual sort of attacks which were smooth and quick, but harsh, vicious movements meant to maim and elongate suffering. Her enthusiasm suggested she was more hurt by the suggestion she practice magic more often than he had originally thought. "You know, I could put a Chantry flag on that and you could pretend it was the Seeker, if you like. Though I doubt your companions will find that to be in good taste." Dorian smiled easily, the comment had at least made her stop swinging long enough to listen before she began again.
"I think they meant for you to set an example for the mages." Thunk. "They think that if mages see you, leading warriors and such, that they will be contented." Thunk. Thunk.
"The mages will never be contented. Is anyone ever contented?" She had removed the head of the dummy and was holding it in one hand, throwing it at his feet.
He chose to ignore the question, it was unanswerable. "Did you know that mages have fought in every major battle since the first Blight. Yes, you did. Well do you know that with special dispensation from the Chantry, some of those mages even rose to be called Knight-Enchanters, summoning blades from the Fade to protect, defend or even hack at stuffed bags of straw upon a wooden apparatus, as you are so skilfully demonstrating. Food for thought." He was pleased with himself, she had actually stopped to listen and did not seem to have a clue as to what he was talking about. Nearby, the Iron Bull had emerged from the Keep, limping slightly, he seemed to be grateful to see the fading sun after being stuck in the infirmary so long. Dorian recalled the Inquisitor's reaction to having to drag both his and Sera's lifeless bodies back to Skyhold, she did not sleep, only tried what little healing skills she knew to keep them alive. They were close, those three, always laughing in the Tavern and cavorting around until one of them lost consciousness, usually Sera. When he had tried to help, her hands had been shaking, trying to tie a bandage around Bull's arm. Dorian had reached over, plucking the strips of cloth from her hand s and tying the knot easily. She had thanked him then, as she did now.
"I apologise, Dorian, if I offended you, Solas or Vivienne with my actions. I appreciate the help. I will try." She had attempted to collect herself, pulling off the little armour she had been wearing at the meeting and pulling her unruly hair away from her face to reveal both her eyes, glowing like the setting sun, they were unnatural for a human, he thought. There was more to this Inquisitor than her companions knew, perhaps they should organise a meeting and compare notes. He thought it best not to joke about that with her at the present time; the Bull had spotted them and shouldered his broadsword to join them. "It was my pleasure, my lady." He knew in moments he would be the third wheel of the cart, so to speak, and decided to join Varric who was having a jolly chat to Bianca the crossbow a small distance away. He could use the ranged target practice anyway.
"Beautiful, Bianca!" the dwarf laughed as Dorian approached, situating himself so as to have a view of the Inquisitor in case she tried out the blades from the Fade.
"Can you see what's happening over there?" Varric chuckled, not taking his eyes off his target, a rather battered looking dummy with a quiver of arrows in its head alone.
'Can you?" Dorian replied, raising an eyebrow. He glanced across the field at what the woman held in her hands; a sword that blazed with a blinding, burning light. It swung easily in her hand and she was laughing, the sound carried across the training yard as the Qunari appeared impressed, but she quickly let the blade fade in her hands. Dorian clapped softly as the dwarf sunk another arrow in the target.
"I've got a pretty good idea. I didn't think anyone else except Blackwall had noticed, the old warden seems to know more than he lets on." The look on Varric's face suggested they were not gossiping about combat tactics. "Don't tell Cass, though, Maker that would be a disaster, the poor kid's already been banned from flirting with the soldiers."
"Do you really not know why the Inquisitor would be upset with the Seeker about the blades?" Dorian was not going to let that one go easily.
"It's certainly not the fact the girl's got loose moral standards, according to the Seeker. No, I don't know, they don't hate each other though, I know that much. The Seeker respects her, which is something I never thought would happen but…"
Dorian's mouth had opened slightly; he was staring in the Inquisitor's direction without a hint of subtlety. "What are you do-" It was certainly a sight to see, the Inquisitor and the Bull were engaged in close combat, with two long wooden sticks to even the odds. She was taunting him and he was laughing heartily, swinging his makeshift sword confidently. She was on the ground more than once, rolling arund avoiding his blows efficiently, then she went in for the kill. Unfortunately at the same time he did, she had not been paying attention and was now locked in a battle of strength with the Qunari- his downward blow only stopped by her double-handed parry. Neither of them moved, if he truly wanted to Bull could have broken her weapon with sheer strength alone, but he did not, and she would not give up.
The Inquisitor put up an admirable fight, but there was no way she would win, not unless she could shift the balance somehow. Bull seemed to realise this, and opted for a less serious approach, tossing aside his own weapon and grabbing hers with a single hand between hers, lifting her off the ground with relative ease. The dwarf and the Tevene could hear them, barely. Thankfully the wind was in their favour. "Rule number three of combat training, don't battle the big guy." He chuckled, their faces were inches apart and she was mad, though quickly turned the tables by swinging her legs around the Qunari's torso. Instinctively, his free hand to hold her up, throwing the stick aside, or attempted to before she caught it midair and brought it across the back of his neck, carefully hooking it around his horns, holding it and herself in place. The shock soon wore off Bull's face and settled into another expression, one of respect, among other things. Dorian had not seen him this serious since the last demon he faced. It was a private moment, and Varric and he were intruders. They would have turned away, but apparently the dwarf could read lips. "Rule number one, don't let your opponent distract you, she says. I always said that kid had balls." He was chuckling.
The pair seemed entranced; it was the most singularly passionate display of violence and skill Dorian had ever seen. Both Varric and Dorian turned as the human woman leant and hovered less than an inch from the Qunari's lips, chest still heaving from the effort of hoisting herself around by her arms and thighs. They stayed that was for a moment, before he removed a hand from her back and used it to clasp the back of her neck, meeting her lips with near dangerous force. The pair did not notice they had an audience, even as the Qunari began to walk towards the stables.
"Not a word to the Seeker?" Dorian confirmed, letting his eyes drift anywhere but the stables.
'Right, I'll let the stable hands know they just got the night off, courtesy of Her Eminence the Inquisitor Trevelyan."
"Right, I'll keep the Warden out of the training yard then."