#skyholdevent01

          the assignment was simple: clear out whatever darkspawn they could find while exploring some caves that’d be suitable for shelter. easy enough, and varric had no grievances. well, maybe one. “ - i’m just saying i’m a little curious why they heard ‘darkspawn’ and ‘caves’ and immediately thought, ‘hey, you know who’d be good for this job? the dwarf and the warden.’” his words were spoken lightheartedly, not an ounce of genuine complaint in them, lips trying not to quirk into a smile. still, he pretended to brood evermore as he and blackwall inched further into the mouth of a dark cavern; bianca was held at the ready in his hands. “just once i’d like to hear someone say, ‘oh, we need someone to head out into the warm sunshine and pick flowers and herbs? you know who’d be good for that job? the dwarf and the warden.’”

          the fire crackled and licked at the sky. at night, the western approach grew cold, and varric tossed another handful of kindling into the flames as he sauntered past. first, the campfire; then, the tent. after, only once everything was settled as well as they could be in the ass-end of nowhere, varric settled atop a low rock, stretching out his legs as he looked to his companion. scout the north. the assignment had seemed easy enough, though varric hadn’t expected it to take so long - they’d been away from the main camp for days, by this point. though they were now on their way back, he had let exhaustion settle against his shoulders, and he sighed as he glanced at emrys. “i can take first watch,” he muttered, reaching for the flask of their mostly depleted water. “you should get some rest.”

          it felt like years since varric and carver had spent any time in each other’s company. (it probably had been years; even taking away their time apart since kirkwall, varric realised he rarely saw little hawke unless garrett was also around.) as the camp quietened - with many off to do their assigned tasks for the evening, or get some rest in their tents if they were free - varric settled by the fire next to carver. (he was probably closer than necessary, given that there were other logs to sit on.) he cast a grin at the other and stretched his legs toward the fire, making himself comfortable. “they sending you out on an unreasonable amount of tasks, too, junior?” his voice was teasing, lighthearted, without an ounce of complaint. for all his gripes, he knew the inquisition needed all the help it could get.

          sat on her knees at the edge of camp with an unwavering focus between her sneezing, rory diligently sifted through a massive stack of old tomes and weathered documents; a report here, a log there - part of the overall effort to learn more about the western approach. each dusty discovery was punctuated by the tail end of a pinched ‘choo!’, the squeak as polite and muffled as she could make it. the bustle of camp easily drowned her out, though even then she could pick out the sound of someone approaching. no clink of metal or brush of leather; and rather than the heavy crunch of shod footsteps, the sand rustled gently under bare feet. that, combined with a glimpse of sun-blonde hair, gave rory an inkling of who it was; she turned with a smile. “letha,” she greeted, “i didn’t know you’d be here too.” another sneeze tweaked at her nose, and her face quickly scrunched up to stop it.