#a has-been hero whose usefulness ceased and his happy ending was torn from him by pointless intrigue

[invinciblerodent]

brb, i have to go and. make strangled noises at nothing real quick; it just hit me over the head how Wyll's use of the metaphor of dancing as a stand-in for romance and intimacy really just. accompanies him all throughout his story, and how perfect it is

I guess I should have expected a character like him, that's both deeply poetic in his speech and courtly in his upbringing, would come to idealize a chivalric romance a bit, and translate his feelings on/of love to an element of courting that's as ritualistic and processional as ballroom dancing, but sometimes just realizing the obvious can really knock you off your feet for a second

like. just like how there is almost a blueprint to a perfect storybook romance in both stories and -consequently- in his head (I think romance might even be one of the literary genres with the highest number of unwritten rules that need to be fulfilled for a work to count as a romance), there is also a fairly strict method to a court dance. There is a series of well-known and practiced steps that was laid out in advance, and one is to perform them in succession, and in sync with one's partner. If one of the parties doesn't know or doesn't want to follow the rules/steps, it gets... tangled, messy, and you both stumble. The dance and the relationship both fall apart. The happy ending of a tale is not reached without all the steps in-between being followed, and he so dearly wants his fairytale ending, his happy, fulfilled love, I just---

it's such a perfect metaphor, and what makes it even more perfect is that Wyll is ostensibly aware of it, and he chose it, purposefully, and i don't want to watch the Act 3 commitment scene because I've not yet done it myself and don't want to spoil it, but I would be so surprised if he a.) made no mention of storybook romances, or b.) didn't just straight up propose y'know

i'm (metaphorically) crying, if it were possible to play this game on six different characters simultaneously without getting bored or confused I fucking would

[the-unaligned-player]

New World of Darkness XY Splat AU Dream SMP Most Fitting Splat.

Dream: Dethroned Grace of Heart

He existed as the effective ruler of the lands settling disputes and fostering community in his land. He then had his life, history, and belief systematically torn apart followed by his nakama turning on him. Now he is a corruptive creature of despair that only exists to spread the misery that is his life to everyone around him. Learn from the mistakes that caused him else ye be doomed to repeat it, and end his suffering for there is no kindness that can ever reach the thrice burned.

Tommy: Gangrel Carthian

A somewhat domesticated but still very feral animal that as of recently seems to genuinely be trying to be a better person. Not prone to thinking things through, still goes by his heart but said heart seems more tempered. Would still fistfight god because he exists though, as long as he never truly breaks ‘rebellion for rebellions sake’ will always be a part of him. Would like for him to continue to improve.

Punz: Torn Bonepicker

If the betrayal was true this man is a true Viceful Bonepicker. A man endlessly grabbing at the wealth in front of him despite the fact that he already had more than enough secured. Now he is claimed by that rusted iron moss. I’d feel bad for him but it doesn’t seemed to have changed him much.

Schlatt: Daeva Invictus

A unsubtle tyrant who endlessly indulged in deeper and further into vices in a desperate bid to feel alive again while hurting everyone around him with his flexes of power, one whose final death was celebrated by everyone. A perfect fit for the Tempting Tyrants. Smart enough to want to stay dead.

Wilbur: Ventrue Invictus Masquerading as a Carthian

A man who started a country in a bid for power disguised as freedom. Desperate for control and importance, once deposed he swiftly spiraled out of control losing all grip on his touchstones and required final death as it was the only kindness that could be given to one so wracked with derangement as to appear Malkovian. Dumb enough to want to come back.

Tubbo: Fairest Dawn Courtsman

A doll, played with and treasured by everyone as one does a toy. Voice silent and never heard when that vow is broken. Both inaction and action have hurt those they care about and his grasp on reality has been slipping ever since. Loves, loves so so much but the love returned always leaves him feeling hollow and used when alone so he clings to anyone who will. A self perpetuating behavior but such is the pattern taught by the addicting Durances of The Fairest. Still, that earnest belief that things can get better can always bring a smile to the faces of those willing to listen.

Ranboo: Hollow Mekhet Ordo Dracul (VII?)

A supernatural creature of shadow with a part of himself that may be working for the antagonist, desperate to understand his condition and overcome it? It’s like this Splat was made for him. :)

The Unaligned Player: Dethroned Seeker of Diamonds

I desire to understand the world around me and it’s inhabitants, a desire born from the wish to spread knowledge to other that they may make fully informed decisions. As for the Dethroned part, ~I have crippling depression~, am innately evil, and have utterly wrecked my emotions in the process of staying sane and alive so despair, hate, fear, and general suffering have just become a part of me leaving me with an even more alien perspective than I should possess. If you end my suffering and there’s an afterwards I’ll thank you but I’ll fight you because I haven’t done enough for murder to be the solution yet.

Technoblade: Avenger (Unusually stable)

A man of rage and vengeance, laser focused on tyranny as the subject of his ire. He does not forgive, he does not forget, his hatred does not cease. Even after the sun has burned out there he will stand, cremating and destroying all tyranny he can find. Despite all of this, he is no monster, no beast to be murdered and corpse to be mounted or harvested. He is a man, empowered only by his devotion such that one could mistake him for a paladin and not be inaccurate.

Karl: Acanthus Guardian with a Minor in Scelesti

The man who travels through the thornbush of time, losing bits and pieces of himself along the way. He accepts the price and accepts the burden, knowing that every step he takes through the hedges could be his last, that every decision he makes has consequences far beyond him. The sights he beholds and the things he does are burned into his soul, but if it keeps everyone else alive, he’ll gladly give up all that makes him him.

Captain Puffy: Yuri’s Group

A mortal woman that makes the attempt to take care of and protect the souls of beings far greater than her. Doubles duty as one who actively attempts to prevent those that would hurt her charges from doing so. Maternal and caring, with the appropriate amount of badassery required to live in a World of Darkness with her chosen profession, I’d think of no better splat for the therapist knight than as a Hunter of Yuri’s Group.

Quackity: Mastigos Hegemon with a minor in Scelesti.

A man of words with no true bones for the physical matters in backing up his talk. Always vying for some semblance of power, making grandiose yet simultaneously dull plans and schemes that inevitably bite him in the ass. Standing for nothing but himself he does his best to make others stand below him, always clinging to hierarchy for protection and influence and inevitably dividing his faction into rats snapping at eachother and crabs keeping eachother trapped in a bucket. Poor Starscream, always a joke, always dissatisfied.

Ranbob: Obrimos Paternoster with a major in Scelesti

A lass who looked upon the quartz mask of our favorite despairing blob, and saw God. Fueled by their quiet zealotry, this humble bookkeeper saw fit to burn away the world that reviled them for their faith. Death to all who come to their temple of worship, for none would accept the one who worships the God who is as a Devil.

Awesamdude: Talassii Nemeses

A icon of fear that promotes the fear and suffering of their victim brought about by binding entrapment and confinement in response to transgression. An Iron Maiden, a burning cross, the c4 strapped to your chest, and a bear trap. The embodiment of Law as Punishment and the man who will bring the hammer down if you make a mockery of his domain.

Sapnap: Hero

The glory seeker, the tragedy, the Hero of their story. Desperate for a sense of some importance they turned to a universal icon of praise: Slaying monsters. Setting themselves up as the tragic hero who must put down their wayward friend, they make a mockery of history and hype themselves up far too much for how important they are. Claiming possession and protagonism of a story that was never truly theirs, no happy ending awaits them in the end. A fitting fate for a Hero.

[ellenembee]

The Revelation of All Things - 50. In which she gets by with a little help (from her friends)

Read the full fic on AO3.

Read on Tumblr (desktop)

Bull and Varric watched from their regular table as the Inquisitor emerged from Josephine's office into the main hall. Bull raised his hand to get her attention, but she didn't look his way at all. Instead, she walked quickly to her own door and disappeared through it, her posture stiff and her face emotionless. If he were anyone else, he probably wouldn't have noticed a thing. But he wasn't anyone else.

"Hmmmmm..."

Varric nodded. "Yeah. Wonder what's up?"

Figures that the dwarf would notice, too.

"Don't know. But here comes someone who does."

Unlike the Inquisitor, Leliana made a beeline for the table where he and Varric were enjoying their evening meal.

"Bull. Just who I was looking for. Come with me."

"Uh, sure thing, Red."

Leliana barely glanced at him as she passed by. Bull and Varric shared a mutual look of surprise, but Bull quickly got up and followed the spymaster up to her rookery. When they reached the top, Bull stood patiently as she sent her agents out. Finally, she crossed her arms and let out a small huff.

"I need your assistance," she said quietly, mindful of the center opening into the library below.

"Sure. What's up?" he replied in a similar low tone.

"I'm not sure, yet. Josephine has been trying to reinstate her family's ability to trade in Orlais, but someone has killed her couriers and destroyed the paperwork. I have uncovered a few leads, but the more I find, the more worried I become that someone will make an attempt on Josie's life. I don't want to worry her prematurely, but I would be immensely grateful for another set of eyes and ears on the ground here in Skyhold. And if you see or hear of anything useful from your Ben-Hassrath contacts, let me know."

"Absolutely. Are we talking a noble with a grudge or professional assassins?"

"Everything points to assassins. I'm not sure if they've been hired by someone else or if they themselves have a grudge against the Montilyet family."

"Hmmmm... I'll send out feelers within the network. Between the two of us, I'm sure we can track this down."

Leliana nodded. "Thank you, Bull. Your help is appreciated."

Bull chuckled. "Hey, that's what you pay me for, right? I'll be honest, though. This wasn't the conversation I expected."

"Oh? How so?"

"Varric and I saw the Inquisitor leave your little tea party. She didn't look so happy. I mean, to us. No one else would have noticed, but..."

"Ahhh... yes. Well, that's something else entirely. We have been receiving some... unpleasant messages from various citizens about the impropriety of the rumored affair between our Inquisitor and her Commander. The whispered talk in the back rooms and dark hallways all over Thedas is worse. She did not take it well."

"What are they saying?"

"Here. You can read them yourself if you like."

Leliana handed him a small stack of parchment. As he quickly skimmed the notes, he found himself cursing under his breath. The vitriol directed at the Commander in particular for "sullying himself" with a "knife-eared upstart" sickened him. Some even went so far as to compare him to Andraste's betrayer and husband, Maferath, and warned that the Commander would betray their Herald of Andraste soon enough. Many more, however, were directly degrading to the Inquisitor's status as an elf and a mage.

"These people insane," he muttered under his breath.

Leliana laughed. "Quite possibly. The conspiracy theories and ravings of sick people never cease to amaze me. It's one reason I have always strived to remain in the shadows. And the reality of an organization this large is that we could very well be torn apart from within, so it is best to keep them around as a reminder of what we hope to avoid."

"Anyone who knows her - anyone who knows the Commander for that matter - would never say such shitty things."

"Which is why it is important that she continue to travel around Thedas closing rifts and uniting people against Corypheus. In the end, we do not need these crazy townsfolk to believe in us. We need the average person and the powerful to recognize and join with us. Before our alliance with Orlais, we would occasionally receive a scathing note from this or that noble, but since the Empress offered her support, those messages have largely turned into whispers behind closed doors. The rich and powerful know where their bread is buttered, and right now, it is with us."

"I guess." Bull narrowed his one good eye. "In that spirit, perhaps you wouldn't object to a possible alliance with the Qunari, then?"

Usually, Leliana was too good at the Game to let her emotions show. His offer, however, clearly took her by surprise.

"I... I don't know. What kind of alliance?"

Bull shrugged. "Don't know, yet. There've been flutters among the Ben-Hassrath about it. I know they'll require a show of good faith. I just didn't think it'd be something you'd entertain. But maybe you wouldn't object if I brought it up with the boss?"

"I... don't suppose there's any harm in at least hearing what they have to say. I've never heard of the Qunari allying with anyone before."

Bull gave her a smug grin. "That's because they never have. Corypheus is bad news. They know that as well as anyone."

"Corypheus is a threat to their hope of ever conquering Tevinter."

Bull laughed. In truth, he wasn't sure of the motivation behind such an offer, but he wasn't in a position to question it.

"Well, yes. That's part of it."

"Run it by the Inquisitor. If she approves, we'll talk more about it."

Bull nodded and turned to leave, but Leliana's voice stopped him.

"Will you let the other companions know that the Inquisitor and Commander will be out for the next few days on Inquisition business?"

Bull threw Leliana a lewd look over his shoulder as he descended the stairs. She smirked at him in return.

By the time he reached the great hall, Dorian had joined Varric at the table. Bull sat down at his plate and started eating again. The other two just stared at him until Varric loudly and deliberately cleared his throat.

"Well?"

"The Inquisitor is going to be gone for the next few days on Inquisition business."

The dwarf gave him a shrewd look. "On 'business'? Without her companions?"

"Yup." Bull paused, reveling in the reveal. "And with the Commander."

Dorian let out a low whistle. "Well, well, well. Who would've thought he'd work up the nerve? I wonder where they're going." He started to stand. "Perhaps I should go give the Commander some pointers..."

Bull put his hand on the mage's shoulder and gently pushed him back down into his chair. "She and the Commander are reviewing the work of a blacksmith near Honnleath. They'll be taking a few soldiers with them. I wouldn't call it a romantic trip, Dorian."

The mage tinged red at the contact but said nothing. Since their last trip together, tensions between himself and the Tevinter mage were now at critical levels, but Dorian had yet to make a move. Either it would end in mayhem or in the bedroom. Bull would prefer the latter - not least because the former might upset their Inquisitor. Regardless, he decided to leave the teasing for later. They had more important matters to deal with tonight. Dorian brushed Bull's hand off his shoulder and made a petulant face.

"Spoilsport. I could have gotten at least four or five blushes out of the Commander before he threw me out of his office."

Varric snickered but then turned almost immediately back to Bull with a more serious expression. "What else?"

"She's been getting some hate mail. Pretty awful stuff. Some of it about her and the Commander... Rumors and such. I'm sure you can relate. Not everyone loves your fiction as much as Cassandra."

"Well. Shit. I certainly can. My editor usually keeps most of it out of my sight, though. It takes some time to get desensitized to things like that. I'm surprised Leliana even showed her the letters."

"I don't think she saw them. Just heard about them. But it's something she'll need to get used to as a public figure. Sheltering her from these things won't help her."

He firmly believed it, but it didn't make it any easier to take. Bull sometimes wished the Inquisitor had a thicker skin. Then again, she wouldn't be her if she did.

The three of them fell into a solemn silence, each chewing through their dinners slowly, wrapped up in their own thoughts. After a few minutes, Hawke approached, plate in hand, and looked them over. Her bow-shaped lips contorted in displeasure. Bull just shrugged at her as Dorian let out a deep sigh and took a long drink from his wine.

"I'd ask if someone died, but in our line of work, the answer is far too likely to be yes," she joked as she sat down next to Varric and then frowned at the complete lack of response. "Alright. I'll bite. What's up? I don't think I've ever seen the three of you this quiet. Either you're planning something really big - in which case, I want in - or something really depressing just happened - and I should probably know about it whether I want to or not."

Varric filled her in on the conversation. There was a bit of a lull before Varric took a sarcastic poke at Hawke.

"You've never had to deal with people who hated you before, have you?"

"Oh, no! Not at all. A Circle full of hostile mages and templars, Qunari, Carta, Coterie, various and sundry evil doers whose plots and schemes I've ruined, Chantry Mothers, a decimated city full of angry people..." She paused, but when no one spoke, she continued airily, "Plenty of people said nasty things about me, but I never believe any of it. Deep down, I'm sure they all really adore me. Cullen did. If I can turn a stodgy templar like him, I must be some kind of badass hero or something. Still glad that man finally came to his senses in the end. He's a good sort, even if he does have a stick up his ass most of the time." She leaned back and looked at them all in turn. "But if you're all so concerned for your lovely Inquisitor, why aren't you upstairs cheering her up?"

After a long pause, Dorian stood suddenly. "Excellent question, my dear." He picked up his bottle of wine and a couple of glasses off the table then looked around expectantly. "Well?"

Bull shrugged. Just because she needed to learn how to deal with it didn't mean she needed to do it alone.

"I'm in. You two coming?"

Hawke held up her hands. "I wouldn't want to intrude on family bonding time."

"You've got a shit ton of experience with this sort of thing, though," Bull reminded her.

Hawke seemed to waver as she considered Bull's point. Varric finally got up and grabbed her by the elbow.

"Come on. If we don't cheer her up, she'll be stewing on this all night. Grab another bottle or three, Sparkler. If we're gonna do this, we should do it up right."

Dorian gave a little cheer and pulled another few bottles off a nearby table. They finagled their way past the guards and took the stairs up to the Inquisitor's quarters. After a short but heated debate on whether they should knock, Bull pounded his fist on the door. They heard nothing until a small voice called out from the other side.

"Who's there?"

"Everyone, apparently," Dorian said jovially. "But more specifically, it's me, Varric, Bull, and Hawke. You looked a little down earlier, so we've come to cheer you up... with wine!"

The lock clicked, and the Inquisitor's tired face appeared. She smiled at them weakly, and it was apparent to all that she'd shed a few tears at least. Bull felt a little twinge of regret that they hadn't thought to come up sooner. What the woman needed was a distraction. If the Commander couldn't provide that tonight, then it was up to them.

"Well, as long as you have wine..."

She backed away and waved her hand for them to ascend the stairs into her quarters. As soon as they crested the stairs, Hawke gave a long, low whistle and threw herself down on the couch in front of the fire.

"Fancy digs, Inquisitor! Must be pretty lonely up here on your own, though."

The Inquisitor motioned for everyone to sit. Varric sat on the couch with Hawke, and Dorian lounged on the rug in front of the fire. Bull took a spot toward the back against the wall next to the fire place. The Inquisitor sat on the floor in front of the couch. From his spot, Bull could see everyone's face except Dorian's.

"It took some getting used to - the being alone. Those first few weeks in Haven, I thought I might go stir crazy in that tiny cabin by myself. But I've adjusted fairly well. We're often out in the field anyway. The large windows and tall ceilings here help, too."

Bull considered her words. He knew a little about the Dalish, but he hadn't really stopped to consider how the different customs might affect her.

"You were never alone in your clan?" he queried.

"Not really, no. Not like you mean. I... kept to myself more often than the others, but even then, we all slept near each other. Having a big space like this to myself is quite out of the ordinary. Half my clan could fit in here. It does have its upsides, though. I've even developed a taste for shemlen beds."

Dorian made a face as he handed each of them a glass of wine. "I can't imagine sleeping on the ground all the time. And around a whole group of people? It's bad enough when we're traveling around the back hills of Ferelden and Orlais. Give me a fluffy bed with plush velvet pillows, a full wine cellar and possibly a nice bubble bath."

Varric chuckled. "Yes, Dorian. We're all aware of your idea of the 'bare necessities.'" Dorian merely gave Varric a disdainful look, so the dwarf continued, "I don't mind sleeping on the ground. Maker knows I had to do enough of it while wandering around Sundermount with Hawke."

"Hey! I never made you come along. You were there of your own free will... unlike here, I understand. Something about being conscripted - detained and questioned about a certain dashing warrior's whereabouts?"

Varric shook his head. "The things I do for you..."

Hawke looked around at them with a smug look. "See? Unmitigated adoration."

Bull watched a small smile play at the corners of the Inquisitor's mouth as the two friends bantered back and forth. But she had yet to truly smile, and the glass of wine Dorian provided earlier sat untouched on the floor.

"I'm not sure how you do it, Hawke... stay so positive in the face of such darkness."

"My dearest Inquisitor, never mistake sarcasm and arrogance for positivity. I've got the former in large supply, but positivity? That's a hard commodity to come by. I have to admit, I'm impressed by your fortitude. Running the Inquisition - an organization this large - with so much responsibility... I'm not sure how you manage to stay sane."

The Inquisitor finally gave them a real, albeit small, smile. "It is a bit terrifying, isn't it? But I've made good friends here. My advisors and companions have been the real driving force behind the success of the Inquisition. And, of course, people like you and Stroud - strong warriors sacrificing themselves once again for the greater good. The Inquisition couldn't succeed without you - without all of you."

Hawke blinked once and then broke into a wide grin. "That was quite amazing what you did there. We came up here to cheer you up, and suddenly you're giving us a pep talk. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were buttering us up for some awful battle in the desert wastelands of Orlais... ... oh, wait..."

She winked at the Inquisitor, and Bull laughed. Hawke was certainly a larger than life personality, but in retrospect, he found himself glad that the job of Inquisitor hadn't fallen in her lap. Their Inquisitor might be quiet sometimes. She might have moments of doubt and introspection. But she had an inherent kindness held up by an iron will. She never pushed her advantage unless absolutely necessary. It wasn't his style, per se, but people like him and Hawke didn't need to be in charge of organizations like this one.

And your fellow followers of the Qun would probably exile you for even thinking like that.

He should be figuring out weaknesses and finding ways to exploit the kingdoms of Ferelden and Orlais. He shouldn't care about who was in charge of the Inquisition as long as that person eliminated the threat - Corypheus. The Qun allowed no personal thoughts, only honor and duty to the exclusion of all else. He was supposed to be working to help these lost people comprehend "the way." Perhaps he'd been a spy among the unenlightened for too long. He'd begun to think like them, and even more troubling, he wasn't nearly as upset about it as he should be.

"Don't let her fool you, Snowflake," Varric warned. "She's just using that sarcasm to cover up her glaring insecurities. Hawke's not as invincible as she seems. You should have seen her after Fenris left-"

"Maker's balls, Varric! That was a special circumstance and has long since been resolved, as you well know. A minor blip in the heroic history of Marian Hawke."

Varric's eyes positively twinkled. "How is Fenris, by the way? Still as broodingly handsome and gratingly rude as ever, I expect."

"As if I'd be with anyone who wasn't at least as pretty as me... Fenris is fine, thank you. It's only taken... what? A month or two for you to ask?"

"Well, I never know what to expect. You're on, then you're off, then you're on-"

Hawke leaned back on the couch, crossed her arms in front of her, and gave them all an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "One time. One time he ran away from our relationship-"

"-for three years-" Varric inserted.

"-because he'd been hurt! And anyway, you're just jealous."

Varric let out a sarcastic laugh. "Me? Jealous of that depressing elf?"

Bull heard the note of bitterness in Varric's tone and filed it away for later while he watched the Inquisitor's expression go from mildly amused and slightly uncomfortable to rapt attention in a split second. No one else seemed to notice, not even the typically observant dwarf... although Varric clearly had some issues to work through where Marian Hawke was concerned. Dorian turned his head to look back at Bull with a devilish grin on his face.

"This is quite entertaining," he murmured with a quirk of his perfectly manicured brow.

And Varric wasn't through, yet. "You're kidding, right? If you're still together, where is Fenris now?"

"He's got his own things to take care of. Besides, you know he would die to protect me. I'd rather not give him the opportunity."

"He's just ok with that? The Fenris I know would be livid that you left him behind."

Hawke raised an eyebrow and turned to look at the others. "Oh, hello everyone! Don't mind us! Same conversation, different day. Here I thought we'd cheer up the Inquisitor, maybe eat some fancy treats from snooty nobles... instead you get an earful about my love life. At least you do look a little cheered up. Glad to know my relationship foibles are entertaining. Got any chocolates?"

The Inquisitor smiled. "No chocolates, but I do have cookies."

She got up to retrieve a large, ornate tin from her desk and passed it around. There was a brief, awkward lull as everyone chewed on Orlesian caramel cookies. Finally the Inquisitor spoke.

"I don't mean to pry, but... you're with an elf?"

Hawke gave her a confused look. "Yes, Fenris is an elf. He was a slave in Tevinter for a long time. I helped free him from his master, Danarius."

"Oh. I didn't know that. I've only read bits and pieces of the Tale of the-"

"Don't bother," Hawke interrupted with a wave of her hand. "That book is not even close to an accurate depiction of what happened. But Varric likes to take 'artistic liberties' with the truth. Be careful or you, too, might end up a celebrity on the run."

Varric rolled his eyes. "You're so dramatic, Hawke. You know I just want you to be happy..."

Hawke reached over and pulled him into a bear hug. "Oh, there's my trusty dwarf!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

Varric grumbled, but he was grinning ear to ear. Bull chuckled to himself at their complex relationship. Except for the deeply buried undertone of sexual tension, they reminded him strongly of a Qunari relationship. For the Qunari, sex and relationships existed in completely separate spheres.

Bull reflected briefly on Dorian. Even if their game of cat and mouse ended with casual sex at some point, the idea of sleeping with someone he knew - someone he worked with on a regular basis - was decidedly un-Qunari. And as with his shifting thoughts, that didn't bother him as much as it should. On a superficial level, he understood that he should probably analyze those thoughts a bit harder, but he couldn't seem to summon the strength for it. So, he shook his head as if to clear the thoughts away and focused on the Inquisitor once more.

"Do you ever find that being with him makes things... harder for you? Do you feel like you have fewer opportunities?"

Hawke furrowed her brow. "I don't quite follow..."

"I mean... do people treat you differently because he's there? Because he's... not human."

Hawke smiled and slowly nodded her head in understanding. "Ahhh... I see what you're asking. Do I feel slighted or that I've missed out on opportunities from bigoted, idiotic people because I'm with an elf?"

The Inquisitor blushed. "I... sorry. You don't have to answer."

"No. I'm happy to let you know that I've never cared what others thought of my relationship with Fenris-" she shot a glare at Varric "-or what 'opportunities' I might miss. I love him. He's far more valuable to me than a few lost jobs or whispered insults. And the advantage of being a warrior is no one insults you to your face unless they're looking for a fight. It's a part of life." She paused and then added with a small smile, "If I know Cullen at all - which I do - he doesn't care, either. He doesn't do anything by halves. If he said he's in, he's all in. Educating some backward ass hats on how to treat his woman won't bother him a bit."

The Inquisitor's face flushed deep red, and she looked down at her hands. "Um... yes. Thank you. I appreciate your candor. Still... it's hard knowing I could potentially harm him by simply existing and being with him. I'm not used to shem- human culture, but the disparagement of elves seems universal."

Dorian gave her a sheepish half smile. "I wish I could argue, but as you've just heard, my own country actively keeps elves as slaves. The best I can offer is that there are many in Tevinter who would like to see that change."

"And there are people like you, Snowflake," Varric added softly, "making that change happen... even if it is gradual. What you did in Orlais - Briala being named the first elven nobility - that will have consequences far and wide. You are actively making the world a better place for elves with every move you make. If... when you defeat Corypheus, you'll secure your place as another elven hero of Thedas... I'll make sure of that."

Varric grinned, and the Inquisitor laughed. "I knew you were writing all this down!"

"I'll at least have a cameo appearance, right?" Hawke queried. "Don't write me as too tragic should the worst befall me in this siege."

Varric laughed at Hawke's long-suffering tone and the hand she'd thrown against her forehead with dramatic flourish. Then he shuddered.

"Don't jinx it, Hawke!"

Bull let his mind drift as the conversation turned to more mundane topics. They spoke a little about the siege and then more about some odd happenings around Skyhold involving a barrel full of daggers and some missing cheese. Then the Inquisitor asked for a story, and Hawke and Varric took some time to argue about which story to tell. Eventually they settled on the Kirkwall Rebellions because the Inquisitor needed to know how "badass" her Commander really was. And indeed, if even a portion of the story were true, Bull had to credit the Commander with his bravery in the face of a mad woman. Varric had settled into full storyteller mode, his voice undulating with the emotion of the story, and Bull relaxed into the stone wall as he watched the others watch Varric.

"Meredith ordered the templars to kill Hawke, but Cullen refused and demanded the Knight-Commander step down. When he took his stand, he had no way of knowing whether his fellow templars would back him up. They very well could have followed Meredith's orders to kill all of us. But he stepped right between Hawke and Meredith, raised his sword against his Knight-Commander and shouted, 'You'll have to go through me!' It was chaos for a while after that, but the Commander fought with us valiantly."

Bull chuckled slightly at the proud but shy look on the Inquisitor's face as she listened to Varric and Hawke sing his praises. If Cullen were here, he'd be blushing wildly and arguing that his stand had come far too late - that he should have seen through Meredith sooner. But this was Varric and Hawke's show for the Inquisitor, and they were going to play it up as much as possible.

"Meredith was reduced to a toxic statue, and Cullen, now leading the templars, let us go in peace. He spent most of his time working with one of our other companions, Aveline, to rebuild Kirkwall until the Seeker tapped him a few years later to join her little start-up organization. Something about an Inquisition..."

The Inquisitor laughed. "And you told her you didn't have any idea how to find the Champion. So they made me Inquisitor instead."

Hawke shook her head. "You're the one with the glowy mark that closes rifts. I just defended a city against a Qunari invasion and took out a mad Knight-Commander."

"Among other things," Varric mumbled.

The Inquisitor laughed again and looked around her, resting her eyes on each of them in turn. Bull suddenly felt naked under her gaze, as if he had no defenses. He averted his eye, unsure of why he was reacting that way.

"Thank you all so much. This has been a lovely evening... just the distraction I needed, as you all seemed to already know. I'm not sure what I did to deserve such friends."

"Besides saving our asses on a regular basis?"

The Inquisitor grinned at Varric's question. "Yes, besides that."

"I'll write up a list," he promised.

They all laughed and then stood to go. Bull was the last to wish her a goodnight. As he was about to walk out her door, though, a small hand on his arm stopped him.

"Thank you again, Bull. Also, I'll be back in a few days if there's anything you'd like to discuss."

Bull was stunned. He literally couldn't think of anything to say except, "Uh... what?"

"You just seem like you have something on your mind. If you'd like to talk about it, I'm happy to listen."

Bull wracked his brain for any way she could have possibly talked with Leliana before he'd come up the stairs. Perhaps a note? But why would the spymaster have sent a note about that?

"Uh, sure boss. Just have a question for you. Nothing special."

"OK. I'll come find you when I get back."

"Sounds good. I'll... uh... let you get to sleep now. Safe travels."

"Thank you. Good night."

Bull walked out and waved nonchalantly as she closed and locked the door behind him. Inside, however, he was reeling from her pointed comment. Was he that easy to read? He'd never been before. Varric had mentioned something about her uncanny ability to sense when someone was hiding something, but he wasn't really hiding anything. He couldn't hide what he didn't know.

But he did suspect the Qunari were up to something. Perhaps that's what she'd picked up on. That meant that he had a tell, though. A Ben-Hassrath couldn't afford tells, especially ones the leader of the Inquisition could suss out. The Iron Bull frowned and knew he wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight as he sifted through anything and everything that might have given him away.