The Inquisitor stared down into the yard from the stone steps of Skyhold. Nearby, blades clanged together, filling the thin mountain air with the clamor of metal on metal. She knew the wielders were not using practice swords, and she knew she must put a stop to it.Striding down the stairs and forcefully into the yard, the small audience that had formed around the fighters parted ways for her. Cullen fought with no helmet, an exceptionally stupid decision. His normally perfect hair was disheveled and some of it was plastered against a bloody patch on his skull. For his part, Blackwall fought with no shield. She could see blood had soaked his left gauntlet. Likely as not he’d instinctively moved to block and the only thing there to meet Cullen’s blade was Blackwall’s hand. She scoffed disgustedly at the two of them.Cassandra appeared suddenly at her side, red-faced and breathless. “I’m sorry, Inquisitor, I tried to stop them. They’re beyond reason.”“I know,” the Inquisitor replied, voice deadly silent. “And now, thanks to this public display of aggression, all of Skyhold is bound to know why.” The Inquisitor stepped slowly forward, inside the ring of bodies where the two fighters circled one another. She shook her shaggy black hair off her face and held her head high as she willed the magic into her fingertips. She waited until the electric energy of it crackled off her skin before loosing a bolt of lightning at the ground between the two men just a short distance away. Ironically, neither had taken notice of her entrance, being so fixed on one another, so both were blasted off their feet by the explosion of energy between them. The Inquisitor moved into the center of the blackened circle of earth, looking at neither of the offending parties but speaking to both. “Quarters. Now. Both of you.” Her voice was dry as ash, a shout choked to a whisper by rage. She turned and walked away.Half an hour later the Inquisitor sat on the parapet outside her room. Dusk had fallen over the castle and done much to blanket the flaming rage within her. Faintly, she heard a knock on the great wooden door inside. She waited and did not answer, hoping whomever it was would leave her be. She did not feel like being the Inquisitor just now. She had her own problems to solve.“You know,” a familiar voice said suddenly, just behind her, “it’s rude to ignore your friends.” The dwarf sidled past her and leaned casually against the stone wall. He assessed her carefully with his eyes.“What is it, Varric? I’m not in the mood for games,” she answered softly.“Well, I know you don’t want to face the whole of Skyhold at the moment, having just disciplined two grown men of your inner circle like children.” She winced at his metaphor. The accuracy of it stoked the embarrassment in her chest. “So I figured I’d bring you an update. If you want to hear it.” He waited.“Go on,” she said miserably. “How bad is it?”“Well, as for the men, not terrible. Both are bruised and bloodied and will need a few solid days’ worth of recuperating. I saw Hero myself. He didn’t say much and wouldn’t let anyone patch him up. When I left he was hacking away at some wood outside the barn.” Here she sighed and began to rub her temples. “And the other?” she asked, dreading the answer.“The Seeker paid Curly a visit. Other than a fierce knock on the skull, he’s mostly fine. Physically.” Varric cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. “Emotionally, well…”“Just spit it out, Varric.”“He, uh… well, he’s rather upset, Freckles. I think he’s shaken by your use of magic against him.” Varric looked apologetic, as any good messenger bearing bad news should.The Inquisitor laughed, a bitter, black humor. “Wonderful. Just fucking wonderful. I have two idiots who are supposed to be on the same side fighting in front of our entire organization in my court yard and I’m the one who feels guilty. Naturally.” She let her head fall and was silent a moment before she peered through tendrils of hair at her friend. “How long before everyone knows why?”The dwarven man looked deeply uncomfortable. He shifted position and folded his arms tightly in front of his chest before he answered. “Sorry, Freckles, but most of them already do. They all disappeared to the bar after the fight and, well, you know how fast word spreads here in our little corner at the top of the world.”The Inquisitor jumped to her feet. “FUCK. Fuck fuck Maker damn it bullshit fucking… UGH!” She threw her fists into the air and shot bright red sparks into the darkness. She paced several minutes in silence. Finally, she turned to Varric. “You are my closest friend here, Varric. Please, tell me. What do I do? How can I fix this?” she pleaded.He looked apologetic before answering, matter of factly. “You have to choose one, Freckles. Choose one and be done with it.”>>> Help choose! It’s like a pick your own adventure prompt. Vote for whether the Inquisitor should choose Cullen or Blackwall in the replies. <<<
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