Chapter 02 - Jonas
Character Creator - Nicholas
○ right after 'Here Lies the Abyss' ○
Once upon another time, on a road not travelled, there was Jonas Trevelyan.
And in that time, upon a desk in Skyhold's guest wing, sits a letter waiting to be sent.
A letter addressed to Elena Amell.
A letter that the Dreamwalker picks up, not ashamed to read someone else's private thoughts.
If he was drawn to the scroll, then it is related to her somehow - and then, he feels entitled to read.
Where are you this time?
○•○•○•○
My beloved,
Our mission at the Adamant has not ended as well as we might have expected. I am alive though, and amazingly quite unharmed. You'll be glad to know that our Inquisitor friend strictly forbade me from staying behind when we got trapped in the Fade – I'll have much more to tell you about this, and I don't feel confident enough to have it written on a scroll. It will have to wait until I am back at your side.
(Yes, I did think of staying behind. And yes, I'm well aware you'll be mad at me. My love, you'd have done just the same, don't even try to deny it.)
Anyway, I survived, and Ansell sacrificed himself for the sake of the group. I can't believe Hawke is gone… Even if we had some disagreements in the past, he was a true hero, one that usually comes only once in a lifetime. And I had three born in mine, lucky me.
You came first, you saved Ferelden, and now you're trying to save the Grey Wardens as well… And you also agreed to marry me, that was certainly the bravest deed of them all!
And then Hawke came. Not cut from the same cloth obviously, but at least he did try to make things better. Failed completely, let Anders live, but still. He tried. I don't want to marry this one though, we just don't see eye to eye enough about anything… Besides, your beard is less scratchy than his.
And then he came… Our Inquisitor friend. Never going to marry this one either, I swear; he's already somewhat claimed, if I interpreted the glances he kept shooting at that tevine mage who went into the Fade with us correctly. (Speaking of the Tevine, you'd like his mustache I think. It's glorious.)
This morning, when I came down from the rookery, he was in the library with this Pavus. Comforting him, it seemed – from what I overheard, the Tevine had just received news that a slave of his family had been killed covering up for him. Some dalish woman named Mira or Miranda, I think. Well, slavery is bad and Jonas really doesn't agree with the system – and still, there was no judgement in him at all when Dorian told him what happened.
I've talked to Leliana, you know – we had an extended chat in this raven-den of hers. She likes him, this Jonas. You know what she told me? That he reminds her of you, because 'he'd never turn on a friend, ever'. He also talked her out of having some people stabbed, bled out, beheaded, burnt and melted, if I recall correctly – I found her quite softened, almost as she used to be, back then during the Blight. She said I should go and have a drink with this group of 'thugs he usually hangs out with at the Herald'. She had such a fond face when she told me that, I swear I felt compelled to investigate said 'thugs'.
Well, the first one turns out to be Cullen, your flirt from the Circle Tower… Small world, heh?
Then there's one of our fellow Grey Wardens – Blackwall. Did we meet him before? Name's familiar. Beard's impressive.
And the third is… I don't know if I have adequate words to describe him. Remember your Sten, all gloomy and highty and judgy ? Well, this Qunari is quite the exact opposite. He drinks, he brawls, he sings – my ears are still ringing, Maker help me.
Anyway, don't believe anything Leliana may write to you about my… investigation. I might have ended up half-drowned at the bottom of a mead barrel, but it was all an astute strategy on my part, to get closer and to know them better. The Inquisitor himself said the four of us were 'nice chaps'. The orlesian mage, Madame de Fer, said we were 'a disgrace'. I strongly advise that you give more credit to the Inquisitor's judgment in this, my love. Really.
He's really special, this Jonas. Battle-scarred and passionate wyvern hunter, and still so kind to the weird boy with the weird hat that keeps blurting out the weirdest things ever. (He told me of a lady that 'was named after the kindness of the heart, but she assumed it was after the purse hanging from a belt'. I haven't the faintest idea of whom he's referring to.) I hope you get to meet His Inquisitorial Grace someday. He's not so good with books, not so good with speeches and niceties and anything diplomatic either, but he's a kind soul. Generous and open-hearted, you'd like him. Quite a lot, my dear.
Well, time's up. (Leliana says hi.)
I can't wait to be back at your side, my love. Be well until then, and keep in mind that you don't have my shield above you, so no running straight into deadly traps, please.
I love you.
Alistair.
○•○•○•○
So here she is.
Mira, or Miranda, or Miriel.
Enslaved by a tevine family, and killed.
No solace here either…
And the Dreamwalker wanders away.
Once upon another time, on a road not travelled, there was...