Jacquelyn led her small group of followers back to the town, her mind still reeling with what had happened. It had taken a few days for them to return to Sahrnia, but her mind was still lingering on everything they had seen and experienced. Red lyrium giants, infected templars. Imshael. All the pretty words that the desire demon had whispered in her ear. The battle that almost had not occurred, and the deal that Jacquelyn had very nearly made. If it wasn't for Cole, perhaps she would have made it. But she didn't have to worry about that any more. Imshael was dead. It had been a tough fight, perhaps one of the toughest she had ever had, but they had prevailed.
That didn't mean that his words didn't linger in her mind, no matter how much she tried to push them away, to block them out. How had she almost allowed herself to be taken in by the pretty words of a demon? How had she allowed temptation to come so close to overwhelming her? It was pathetic of her, she knew that. She had been weak to allow her personal insecurities about a woman she didn't have to see anymore be used against her. Siara was gone, out of her sight for the foreseeable future. Why couldn't that be enough?
Jacquelyn glared at the ground as she carefully made her way down the hill, making sure not to slip on any stone or the snow. Michel was standing out the front of the town, his sword held in his hand as he surveyed the area. At least they wouldn't have to search the entire town for him.
"It is done," Jacquelyn called out to him as they drew nearer, skipping with all the pleasantries. "The demon is dead."
She stopped in front of Michel, doing her best not to look tired, raising her chin slightly as she looked him in the eye. She didn't want to be here anymore, didn't want to be anywhere near where that demon had been. She wanted to go home to Skyhold. To Cullen. Wanted to forget everything that had happened in the Emprise.
"It is finally over," Michel's voice was filled with relief, a small smile dancing across his features. "I wish I could have heard him scream, but… Sahrnia is safe. It is a good day," a small chuckle escaped him as he looked around. "Now I find myself free to choose a new direction. I would be honoured to serve the Inquisition, if it will have me."
A small smile found its way to Jacquelyn's face, despite how recent days had gone and how every muscle in her body ached. Michel was a good man, honest. And he had a strong sword arm, which wasn't a bad thing. There was something about him that she couldn't shake, an earnesty, or an eagerness to prove himself. Perhaps she was imagining it, but she felt that Michel was someone who would go far. She didn't know precisely what his history with Celene was, but if he had once been her champion, then having him join the Inquisition could never be a bad thing. Maybe it was partially her own curiosity about the situation, but Jacquelyn didn't want to pass up the opportunity that Michel was offering. And she was certain that they would be able to find a place for him within the Inquisition.
"The Inquisition welcomes you, Michel de Chevin," she greeted, bowing her head towards him slightly. He smiled back at her, bowing in return.
"I shall return to your outpost, to await further instructions," he said, falling to one knee and placing a hand over his heart, his head bent low. Jacquelyn watched him quietly, taking half a step forward before mimicking the salute as Michel once more rose to his feet.
Of course, they couldn't simply teleport back to Skyhold. It had been another long day of travelling when they had reached Michel de Chevin in Sahrnia, and the sun was already low on the horizon. One more night in the Emprise, then they could begin their journey back to Skyhold. Jacquelyn sighed, sitting down on the only chair in her tent. At least here she could have a tent to herself, which would give her the time to go over everything that she had been through the past few days. And, perhaps more importantly, begin writing up reports for Leliana, Cullen, and Josephine to go over. She picked up a sheet of parchment from the stack that the requisition officer had kindly found for her, setting it down on the table before her. She dipped her pen in ink, neatly writing a date and location in smooth, graceful motions. When she went to actually begin on her report, however, she didn't even know how to properly begin.
How was she supposed to write this up? Of course, starting at the start would be best. Beginning with meeting Michel de Chevin and what he had told them. Then proceeding to write about Suledin Keep itself, naturally, but what then? How was she supposed to report on what occurred with Imshael? If she wrote the complete truth, then she would be showing weakness. A weakness she could not afford to have. And of course, she wouldn't look very good simply because she almost allowed a demon to persuade her into allowing it to live, and not even so that it could help her to defeat Corypheus. She set her pen down and stood up once more, pacing the tent, frustrated with herself. Her actions had almost endangered more than just her physical self and her comrades, but also the reputation and image that she had as Inquisitor. Weak, that's what she had been. She could not allow honeyed words to tempt her, she could not allow something like that to happen again. It bothered her, just how easily Imshael had worked its way into her mind. But she couldn't really talk with her comrades about it. As far as she was aware, none of them had experienced what she had. None of them had almost fallen victim to a desire demon.
But Michel had. He had implied as much when they had first met, and his hatred towards the demon implied that there was indeed history between the two. Jacquelyn paused her pacing, looking down at the mark on her hand as she pondered her situation. It still hurt a bit from when she opened a rift during the battle with Imshael, but the pain was dulling slightly. The mark, no matter what its true history was, was proving to be more useful than any of them had initially thought. And even with it, even with Andraste's blessings upon her, Jacquelyn had almost fallen victim to Imshael.
She shook her head, striding to the entry of her tent, shoving the flap open and stepping out into the freezing wind. She knew that Michel de Chevin was around the place, somewhere. He was going to hang back for a few days to ensure that the demon threat was, indeed, dealt with. After that, he would be joining the next group of soldiers as they returned to Skyhold, where he would await his next instructions. But tonight, he was to rest, and Jacquelyn would be able to take advantage of their rest to talk with him. Perhaps he would be able to help her come to terms with what had occurred with Imshael.