Josephine met the group at the gate as they arrived back, a letter in her hand. She had a smile on her face, and Jacquelyn couldn't help but feel a small rush of relief. There must be good news if Josephine was smiling.
"Welcome back, Inquisitor," she greeted, stepping forward as they passed through the gates, "I hope your travels went well?"
"We have made some progress. It is difficult to say yet if the travels went well, however. Crestwood has a rift in the middle of the lake, which will have to be dealt with as soon as is feasible. I shall fill you all in at the war table about the Warden situation, as that is a bit more complicated." Jacquelyn paused for a moment, feeling the wariness once more settling into her bones, "What has been happening here while I was away?"
The rest of the group had already moved away, heading off to do their own things. Likely to get cleaned up after the long trip.
Josephine and Jacquelyn fell into step with each other as they made their way towards the war table, Josephine passing the letter over to Jacquelyn.
"We have received an invitation to attend the ball at the Winter Palace," she explained. "It would seem that your exploits have impressed Duke Gaspard and we have been invited to attend Empress Celine's ball."
"Excellent. Have we had any more word from Cullen and Siara?" Jacquelyn opened the letter and ran her eyes across the neatly penned words while she listened to Josephine.
"Siara wrote to say that while she believes the Venatori threat has been neutralised, she and Cullen would like to stay a few days longer to make certain of it."
"Send word to them to meet us in Orlais," Jacquelyn ordered. "I would like to depart as soon as we can in order to make it in time. At the very least, I believe that the commander of our armies should be attending this ball."
She didn't bother saying anything about why Siara needed to come. In truth, Jacquelyn would prefer the elf not attend. But she didn't want Cullen travelling alone, and more importantly, she didn't want Siara to be left unsupervised.
Josephine nodded.
"Of course. I shall send a letter to Denerim right after our meeting."
"Make sure to include a mention of there being a dress code," Jacquelyn half smiled to Josephine, "I do not want to know how Siara would show up if we did not."
Siara glowered slightly at the letter in her hand, a small, amused smirk on Cullen's face.
"She didn't have to include that specifically," Siara muttered, "I have been to formal occasions before. Funny enough, I do know how they work."
"Out of curiosity, do you even own formal clothes?"
"Nope, but I can get them easily enough," Siara folded the letter back up and skimmed it across the table to Cullen. "I pack light, but I always have enough money on me for anything that I might need. Let's just ignore the part where I don't have anywhere other than on my person to store any money I earn."
Cullen opened the letter and gave it a quick read himself.
"I don't exactly like these things," he muttered, Siara glancing over to him as she leaned casually against the wall.
"I'd never have guessed," she joked, "You seem like the sort of person who would thrive on court intrigue."
Cullen shook his head, putting the letter back down and staring out the window, a small frown on his face. Siara watched him for a moment before pushing herself away from the wall and moving over to stand next to his seat by the window.
"We should probably be headed off soon if we're going to get there in time," she said, "it's probably better for us if we travel slow. Don't want you to relapse while we're travelling or when we reach Orlais."
"I'll be fine."
"Yeah, I've never heard that from a recovering addict before," Siara scoffed, shaking her head. "If you want a different excuse, it's because I hate being in a rush to get anywhere. The stress kills me. Happy now?"
"Now that just sounds like an excuse."
"That's because it is. You better start packing your things back up. We'll leave after you've had a good rest after your packing."
"I've been back to my full strength for a while now, Siara. You don't have to keep coddling me."
"Something else I definitely haven't heard from recovering addicts before." Siara turned and left the room, "If you don't want someone looking out for you, Cullen, that's fine. But I don't like babysitting people when they don't want to help themselves, and I would be fine with leaving you to figure out your recovery on your own."
The door swung closed behind her, Cullen shaking his head.
"Somehow I doubt that," he muttered quietly to himself.
Alistair watched Siara from his seat behind his desk, trying to work out what he was feeling. He was sorry to see her go, he knew that. They'd become pretty good friends, or from his perspective they had, and she had definitely seemed to warm up to him a bit. She had even taken Revas, Mara's mabari, for a couple of walks around the castle gardens. They seemed almost as close as Revas and Mara had been, though Alistair knew that no one could take Mara's place for Revas.
"You seem to be clear of any Venatori, so there isn't really much of a reason for Cullen and me to hang around any longer," Siara continued, "and when Jacquelyn summons you to go somewhere, you can't really argue with it for very long if you're a member of the Inquisition."
"I understand," Alistair said, nodding, "but you don't seem too thrilled."
"I'm not. I hate politics as much as the next person, and The Game is one of the most boring things in the world to me. I can't be bothered playing it," Siara shrugged. "But when the Inquisitor summons you, you must go."
"Revas will miss you."
"I'm sure he will."
There was a pause, a slightly uncomfortable silence filling the room. Siara seemed like she couldn't care less, but Alistair was almost fidgeting. He didn't quite know how to break the silence, and he wasn't very good at goodbyes. Especially not when a part of him felt like he was saying goodbye to one of his last connections to Mara. From what little he knew about Siara, he suspected that she wasn't very good at goodbyes, and in this case, possibly for a similar reason. They were two of the last people who knew Mara very well. Sure, some of his and Mara's old travelling companions were still around the place, but even a lot of them didn't know Mara as well as he and Siara did. He looked down at Revas, who was sprawled out in the sunshine beside Alistair's desk.
"You could take him with you," Alistair suggested. Siara just shook her head.
"It's quite chilly at Skyhold," she told him, "Plus Revas isn't exactly a spring chicken anymore, and he's got a good home here. I think he's enjoying retirement."
She didn't say what she was actually thinking, though Alistair couldn't guess what her real thoughts were. He had no clue that Siara was actually thinking that it was probably only a matter of time before she ended up like Jacen and Mara. Over the past few days everything had started sinking in differently to before. Before, she knew that she was on her own. She knew that her siblings were dead, that she was the last of the three. That now she was alone.
Now, it was sinking in that her chances of surviving to old age were depressingly low. Over the years of her being The Blade, she had amassed quite the horde of enemies. When Mara died (the first time), the chances of her and Jacen surviving dropped. Now that it was only Siara, once she was finished with the Inquisition, her chances of living until a natural death of old age or disease were nearing zero.
She didn't want Revas to go through that again. The reasons she gave Alistair weren't false, they simply weren't the full story. That mabari dogs were well known for their intelligence and loyalty, and that Revas had already bonded with Mara, who died. Siara wasn't convinced that the poor pooch would cope very well if he bonded with Siara, and then she died. The other reason was that Siara didn't want to grow too attached to the dog. She had already lost her sister and her brother, she didn't want to get that attached to someone else - even a dog - and then have said someone die in another fight. And that was the truth of it, wasn't it? In Siara's line of work, dying during battle was more common than retiring.
Revas just looked up at Alistair adoringly and wagged his tail before settling down again with a huff and seeming to fall asleep. He knew they were talking about him. He was happy where he was, and he was letting them know. Siara wondered if the dog knew what she was thinking, but shrugged the thought off. Mabari were smart, they weren't psychic.
"Well, I guess there's nothing else really to say," Alistair rubbed the back of his head awkwardly before shooting Siara an equally awkward smile. "You're welcome here whenever you want. Please, come visit when you can. I think even my beloved wife is somewhat fond of you."
That actually drew a chuckle from Siara. Anora? Fond of Siara? That was a good joke. The queen didn't seem to mind the elf's existence, but she didn't seem like she enjoyed her company. Not that Siara blamed her. Everyone seemed to know that Alistair missed Mara, that he didn't actually love Anora. Not like that. They were married out of a sense of duty. And their personalities complemented each other nicely for ruling a kingdom. Anora, serious and with a good head for politics. Alistair, serious when he absolutely had to be with more of a mind for tactics and, well… fun. Where one had weaknesses, the other had strength. They were a good team.
"I'll see what I can do," Siara agreed, "but no promises. I might even try to bring you another head. Make it a tradition."
Alistair groaned, a pained smile on his face, and Siara grinned. At least they were parting on good terms.