#grewarden

Moments like this when they get a moment to breathe are precious. It hasn't been long since Shiri joined, but she knows intimately that losing yourself in your own thoughts and fears is the easiest precisely when it's quiet. It's both gratitude and compassion that leads her to find Athelstan at the edge of their camp, holding himself against the cold wind and dampness of the forest.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤclever, he thinks, of the warden's disguise. posing as the elder cousland, solas had not even paid mind to the lad, had almost entirely overlooked him if not for his contact with the spymaster. a silent applause ; HE PERFORMS THE SAME TRICK, though much longer lasting. unassuming, dull, compliant. skyhold has the habit of bringing out the hidden parts of its inhabitants, however.

" athelstan, correct ? not fergus ? " a jest, in most parts. he walks the ramparts, thinking on the many times he has completed these tasks. arlathan had him partnered, two sets of eyes better than once, but the inquisition does not fight on these grounds. he hopes it stays that way ; THERE IS TOO MUCH RED THAT STAINS THESE STONES. " smart, i commend you. always best to see these things from an . . . unbiased point of view. "

it’s a far cry from the pristine mage that walked out of kinloch fold all those years ago.    finn’s acutely aware of the change, but he supposes that with the present company included, he’s not the only one that has gone through something after they parted.  for one, though he’s been an apostate for years, it’s a more dangerous thing to be in his company these days, but finn thinks it’s no excuse to refuse to be hospitable.      ❝  had i known there’d be guests over today, i would have bought cookies or something.  ❞     he lets out a soft chuckle, glancing over the humble surroundings with a meaningful look.    ❝  tea then?  while you tell me all about what i assume is a very important matter, since you went to all this trouble to track me down, hmm?  ❞

it’s nothing short a miracle that she gets this moment of peace,   as  short - lived  as it’s bound to be.  the thing is, dami was raised in nature  —   she used to have trees for companions beyond her clan, her family that she misses while surrounded by the stuffy walls and people she doesn’t know.   she has a sense of responsibility after all, but for just a brief moment she welcomes the cold, perched on top of a formation of rocks by the lake like a bird hidden by trees.   she’s inspecting her left hand idly when she realizes she’s no longer alone :  there’s a familiar face, looking right at her.   ah  —    well, this will have to be enough then.     ❝  out for a walk?  ❞      dami wraps hands around her knees and puts on a calm smile, but doesn’t move on from her spot.     ❝  i hope this lord will find it in himself to ignore me for ten minutes longer.  ❞

Sometimes, it feels as though she will never be clean again; that this blood which coats her will seep into her skin & never fully be scrubbed away. And she is well & truly coated in blood in this moment — the sticky, slowly drying near - black ichor of the darkspawn. From her hair to the toe of her boot. Surely some of her own blood is mixed in, but it is impossible to discern it anymore amidst the great dark blot that covers her. Her eyes flash against the dim light, glinting as her gaze snaps to her brother.