Andersson and Reece arrived at the airlock together, looking cleaner, sharper, and better rested than they had in days. Their jumpsuits were fresh, zipped up and neat, and the calm ease between them said everything about how they'd spent their rest day. Hale was already waiting when they arrived, arms folded, her own uniform crisp and hair tied back, exuding the kind of no-nonsense competence that never quite managed to hide the fatigue underneath.
"Good morning," Andersson greeted as they approached. "Did you have a good rest day?"
"It was so good," Hale replied, exhaling with something like relief. "Just nice not to be going at a hundred thousand miles an hour for once." She gave Andersson a once-over. "You're looking better. Any more weird tree stuff?"
Andersson tapped the side of his head. "There's still stuff going on in here. But I'm learning to live with it."
Hale tilted her head. "What did you two get up to yesterday?"
Reece didn't miss a beat. "I could tell you, but you wouldn't want to know." He winked.
Hale made a face. "Yeah, probably not."
Reece added, tone full of smug satisfaction, "Like, a lot."
"Great," Hale said flatly, already regretting the question. "Thanks. Wish I never asked."
Andersson tried to suppress the grin tugging at his mouth—and failed.
Andersson stepped forward and keyed the control panel beside the airlock. The system hummed softly as it cycled through the pressure sequence, then with a muted hiss, the doors parted. Fresh morning air spilled into the ship—cool, fragrant, and sharp with the scent of Vael'theron's towering everflora.
Reece took a deep breath. "That's the stuff."
Hale followed suit, visibly relaxing. "Damn that feels good."
They stepped out onto the ramp, morning light glinting off metal and forest canopy alike. The world outside felt vibrant, humming with a low, living energy that hadn't dulled in Andersson's mind since the day he'd arrived.
"You know," Andersson said casually as they walked, "I didn't lock you in. You could've gone outside anytime."
Hale shot him a dry look. "And go where? I can't do anything without people pointing and calling Shemlen at us like we're some kind of mythical creature."
"Well," Andersson said, glancing at her with a faint smirk, "you kind of are."
Hale rolled her eyes. "What I'm saying is—I can't exactly run to the mall."
Reece looked around theatrically. "Do they even have malls?"
"Fuck knows," Hale muttered. "The trees probably grow their outfits or something crazy."
Reece cupped his hands to his mouth and called out in a faux-serious tone. "Hey, tree! Grow me a thong!"
Andersson barked a short laugh, shaking his head. "Please don't antagonize the planet."
"Why not?" Reece grinned. "She already likes you better than me."
The three of them strolled through the docking corridor, boots clinking softly against polished alloy. The spaceport was a monument to Stonari engineering—blocky and functional, with wide corridors reinforced by heavy struts and load-bearing beams. The walls were etched with glowing script that pulsed faintly in rhythm with the facility's energy grid, a subtle flourish of beauty in an otherwise utilitarian design.
Andersson had walked this route a dozen times over the last few days. But today… it felt different.
It felt familiar.
They passed a junction near one of the side bays, and something on the wall pulled his attention. Just a warning stencil—nothing dramatic. But the second he glanced at it, the symbols clicked into place in his mind with effortless precision.
CAUTION: THRUSTER EXHAUST FROM DOCKED VESSELS. REMAIN BEHIND SAFETY LINE WHEN RAMP INDICATOR IS RED.
There was no overlay. No projected translation. No help from EDI.
He could read it.
In Thedan. Stonari to be precise.
He lingered for just a moment—long enough for Reece to glance back at him—but said nothing. He kept walking.
And it kept happening.
Murals inlaid into the walls shifted as they moved past—scenes of exploration, starlight reflected in dark seas, vessels sailing across the void crewed by silhouettes he could now name without hesitation: Elarin, Stonari, Qunari. The shape of the corridor itself guided them subtly forward, curves designed not just for traffic flow, but for intention—for experience.
He felt it all in his bones. Like the space was tuned to a frequency he now walked in sync with. Like muscle memory. But it wasn't memory. Not really.
At least… not his.
And that was the strangest part of all. Not the understanding. Not the sudden flashes of clarity. But the ease of it.
Up ahead, Hale and Reece were already laughing—loud enough that it echoed back toward him down the corridor.
"I mean, you have to admit," Hale was saying, "for a warlord, he's not bad on the eyes."
Reece snorted. "Well, you can have him. I've got all the muscle I need right here." He looked back towards Andersson, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Pretty sure Karass is into us though."
Hale rolled her eyes. "I just haven't worked my charms on him yet."
They rounded the corner toward the waiting shuttle, still trading mock-thirsty banter, when Reece glanced back and caught Andersson lagging behind.
"Hey," he called over his shoulder, grinning. "You coming?"
Andersson blinked. The script on the wall still lingered in the back of his mind—etched there now, like it had always been a part of him. But he said nothing.
Reece had made his concern about the whole evolving brain thing pretty clear.
Andersson forced a smile. "Yeah—thought I'd forgotten something."
He quickened his pace, falling in step beside them just as the shuttle ramp hissed open and the doors parted to let them in. He didn't look back. Didn't need to. The feeling was already fading—folding neatly into a part of himself that no longer felt so foreign.
They stepped onto the shuttle, the doors hissing shut behind them with a soft hydraulic sigh. The hum of the engines kicked in as the autopilot began cycling through its departure sequence, prepping for the short arc up over Vael'theron and into the high-altitude cradle of Skyhold.
Andersson and Reece slid into the seats beside each other, close enough that their legs pressed together. Reece said something low that made Andersson laugh, and a moment later, their fingers were laced—easily, instinctively. They weren't making a show of it. They just were.
Hale sat across from them and watched with a dry, unimpressed expression.
"I'm pretty sure the Thedans look down on PDA," Hale muttered from across the shuttle cabin, not quite joking as she eyed the way Reece was leaned comfortably against Andersson, their hands still laced together.
Andersson shrugged, not looking away. "Well, good thing we're not Thedan."
Hale gave him a flat look. "Well technically, you are."
Reece grinned and leaned his head back against Andersson's shoulder. "We're just culturally enriching the experience."
Hale rolled her eyes but smiled. "I'm just jealous, really. You two are getting your fair share of galaxy-shaking romance. When's it my turn?"
Reece chuckled. "You want us to talk to Karass for you? Let him know there's no room in our relationship for a third?"
Andersson glanced sideways with a slight grin on his face. "Our relationship?"
Reece ignored him, eyes still on Hale. "Seriously, the man wants front-row seats to the Andersson and Reece show."
"Figures," Hale muttered, looking out of the window.
Reece winked. "Don't be jealous."
"I'm not jealous," she said with a soft laugh, "I'm just wondering when I get a stupidly attractive alien bringing me coffee in bed."
Reece raised his eyebrow. "There's no coffee here, and Karass hated it, remember? This relationship is doomed to fail."
"I mean," Reece added with mock solemnity, "if you want us to put in a word, I'll let him down gently. Tell him neither of us are available."
Hale shrugged one shoulder. "Nah. I'll handle it myself. Just give me five minutes in a room with him and zero rules of engagement."
Andersson tilted his head, amused. "And if that doesn't work out, you could always try Davrin."
Reece looked up sharply. "Excuse me?"
Andersson smirked. "What? I would…"
"Don't make me come over there, Andersson. You don't wanna see jealous Kyle."
Hale snorted. "They might start fighting over you."
Andersson leaned back against the seat, grinning. "Don't threaten me with a good time."
"I swear to god," Reece muttered, rubbing his eyes.
Hale gave a thoughtful nod. "Davrin is beautiful, but we didn't exactly get off to a good start. And let's be real—he's definitely catching the train to Andersson Central."
Reece growled, mock-threatening. "Don't make me reroute this shuttle to Tree Land and take that guy out."
Andersson smiled. "Anyone ever tell you you're cute when you're jealous?"
"I'm cute in every situation," Reece replied smoothly.
"True."
Hale let her head fall back with a groan. "Ugh. Kill me."
Outside, the shuttle continued its quiet arc through the morning sky, weaving between the mountains as the spires of Skyhold rose ahead, sharp against the horizon.
