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@templarvirgin
“You’re an odd human. You also remind me of someone.”
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回
回= patching a wound .
“I have bandages and a few poultices if you needsome,” Solas offered the wounded warrior. If memory served, this was Alistair;one of the grey wardens. While Solas wasn’t fond of the grey warden order, hewasn’t going to simply watch the other tend to a wound without offeringassistance. “And while I’m not the best at it, I do have some healingabilities.”
The King and His Shadow
@templarvirgin​
Ah. Pompous ceremonies. They were his favorites, really. Crowds of nobles grasping for political favor, akin to rats on poverty-stricken streets fighting for their next meal. With the newly appointed king naive to the political machinations of the Court, ravenous were the lords and ladies who sought to sway the sovereign to their benefit.
Eyes that delighted in the ludicrosity observed from the furthest corner of the dining hall, amber pools following passing men and women with eyes that both undressed and scrutinized. His gaze searched for daggers hidden within the sleeves of fustian lords, or perhaps for vials of poison hidden in the bodice of a well-endowed beauty. A trained eye such as his could spot an assassin in the midst of the royal ball, and after an hour of silent observation, the golden-haired fellow slipped into the throngs of nobles with ease.
Approaching the royal throne sent suspicious glances his way from the royal guards, but at the king’s behest, they allowed him passage. Even though the elf aided King Alistair and the Hero to end the Blight, he was still a foreigner, and an assassin on top of that. Trust was never truly his, and understandably so. Loyalty could always be bought for those of his occupation. Luckily for the young Theirin, Zevran had no intention of betraying his former traveling companion. That, and the Crown paid handsomely for his services.
A hand swept upon his breastplate, where his heart lay, as the elf took a grandiose bow before Alistair with a grin that showed he was, indeed, mocking him. “Greetings, my King. You seem uncomfortable in that golden armor of yours. Perhaps you wish to be free of it?” A light chuckle escaped, before the elf lowered his hands back down to his side. “In other news, it would seem your advisors were correct: I spotted at least six people with the intention of killing you tonight.”
He was nervous, and rationally so. Cullen’s first day at the Fereldan Circle - his circle, his new home. His armor felt too big, clanged as he walked and shifted. The blond felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb, regardless of his dressing in the same armor as the rest of the templars. It would be fine, he kept reminding himself. This was something he could do, something he’d been raised to do.
In the mean time, however, he was just standing near the entrance of the building - looking around and shifting awkwardly from foot to foot not entirely sure what to do with himself. He’d love to reach out, find someone to help him or guide him. But instead there he was, looking around nervously.
@templarvirgin
@templarvirgin || Greeter
He met the man outside of Skyhold’s gates. After he’d received the King’s letter apologizing for what happened at Redcliff, it only seemed natural to invite him to see Skyhold for himself. Alistair would be met with the traditional pomp and ceremony. Josephine had talked Quinn through the proper way to greet a King. Even still, the Inquisitor was nervous. He tried not to appear so as the entourage from Ferelden approached. “Welcome to Skyhold, Your Majesty. The stables are just this way if you’d like to drop your horses off,” he smiled politely, bowed, and turned to walk away. He only took one step before he stumbled, but thankfully managed to right himself. Sweet Andraste tell me no one saw that.
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“I’ve got that wanderlust.”
“Good thing we’re traveling around so much then.” Toni joked, glancing over at him.
"I can’t do it anymore!"
Shout at my muse to see how they’ll respond.
Caitlin jerked up, almost sending the book she was cradling in her lap to read into the fire.  Clutching it to her chest, she stared up at the other warden, eyes wide.  “Can’t do what?  What’s wrong?  It was Morrigan, wasn’t it?  Wait, did something happen with Zevran?”
templarvirgin
“Your highness. I’m Inquisitor Lavellan and I am here to escort you to Skyhold.”Â
