#cassandra..... and the faith discussions with her too. good god. well. maker. i should say

[moinsbienquekaworu]

Bedtime but oh how I wish I had coherent thoughts about. Amaris.

[magneticmage]

Unwritten Fic Excerpts

Tooootally not procrastinating on properly writing.

Under cut for length

Ransley Trevelyan stared at the map of Skyhold in front of him. This fortress was....huge. and well-built to have lasted through so many Ages and hands. He had the faintest feeling that the Inquisition would only be one of the many rulers to stay here for a time, not the last.

Still, there was still much work to be done.

"The gardens would be lovely for a Chantry chapel," He remarked, fingers skimming that section of the map.

"Don't we have enough Chantry idolatry everywhere?" Paeriel Lavellan remarked. Her temper was rather sour towards him on the best of days it seemed, and the various discussions of how to rebuild the fortress were quickly proving to be drawing towards yet another face-off between them.

Lucky for them, Armashok Adaar and Naranka Cadash held more level heads.

Naranka set her tankard of dwarven ale down, "Look, we need to get something done today. It's been four hours of the two of you bickering back and forth. I'm tired of it."

Armashok sighed and scratched the chipped base of his right horn. The scars along his neck and face made his already towering physique even more intimidating. His voice was calm and collected, "Paeriel has a point though. Not all follow the Chantry's teachings nor that if their Maker and his Bride, Andraste. The Dalish have their Creators, the Avvar their gods, the Dwarves their Stone, and my people have the Qun."

"The Qun that brainwashed people." Ransley scowled, "That attacked Kirkwall and Ostwick not too long ago."

"How long ago was the last time the elves were killed by humans?" Paeriel's green eyes flashed towards the human noble faster than her arrows, "Oh, wait, it hasn't even been a year."

Naranka sighed and let her chin slump into her hand, "Can we get past the whole 'your people killed my people in whatever conflict in whatever year slash event', please? The Inquisition is supposed to be a show of unity against Cory-piss-pants and if we can't all pretend to agree agree get along, how are we going to expect our people to? Haven taught us to expect disaster. Skyhold is a chance to show that preparation and strength. Let's not squander it."

The human and elf fell silent and looked away from each other, appropriately chagrined. Damn Carta thug had a point. Ex-Carta, Ransley tried to remind himself. She was right. Theda was falling apart because of old grudges and they would need to put their own aside in order to do what was needed for the good of everyone.

He scrubbed at his face, trying to scrape off the frown that has etched itself into his brow the past few days, "Okay. What do you suggest?"

"We expand the eastern gardens and their greenhouses a bit to allow a greater number of plants. In addition to the amount we all keep in our rooms and have hanging around the halls, it should be enough for whatever we need. It might cut into our supplies for the kitchen but I'm fairly sure we can make the revenue up in some other way," Naranka remarked. Her dark eyes turned to Paeriel, "That satisfies your garden request, yes?"

"I suppose." She remarked, "It's smaller than the western area, but it is closer to my rooms so that should be enough."

"As for Ransley wanting a Chantry chapel, I can't say I'm enthused about it either." Naranka paused and took a long draught of her drink and wiped her mouth on her sleeve, "But it does pacify quite a few complaints we've already had, I suppose."

"And raises others." Ransley rolled his eyes to the stack of letters to the left. All demands for equal representation. It wasn't that he didn't approve of all the changes. It was just...so very different from what he was used to that it made him uncomfortable. Perhaps...that was why the others acted the way they did? They all missed home as much as he did and wanted to bring a piece of it with them. He would need to think harder on this. Perhaps Naranka's initial assessment that he was used to the world making way for him had some merit.

"We could make it a multi-faith chapel of sorts. A place for religious debate and ethics and philosophy. We could put a lyrium-infused statue of a Paragon or two in the garden main path, alongside the statue of Andraste that I saw someone bringing in the other day. We could have some trees and wayshrines and such for the Qunari and Dalish. It might take some work getting everything to fit and flow together but I'm sure Josephine could find a group of people to handle it. She's not failed us yet. " Armashok pressed his thumb into the soft center of his palm and rubbed small circles. The Anchor on their hands flared irritably under the abrupt pressure before it settled. "Will that do?"

"Yes." Ransley combed his fingers through his hair, "So, what say we take a lunch break and then move on to the next section? The outer walls, right?"

"No. No more breaks." Naranka slammed her hands down on the war table. Armashok's drink fell of the table and shattered, scattering glass across the floor. Luckily Ransley managed to save both the Dwarf and his own drinks from ruining the maps and papers with their contents. A quick glance across saw Paeriel setting down her tea on a nearby seat.

"Bit much, don't you think?"He quipped.

That earned him a frustrated glare, "I'm sorry, Lord Trevelyan, but don't you think running off to smooch Cassandra every four hours is a 'bit much'?"

He felt heat fold across his cheeks and stammered out a protest that sounded weak even to his own ears. Armashok rubbed his temple, "We can break after we get this last section done for today. Now the outer walls or the aqueducts? What do we repair first?"

"The aqueducts will provide fresh water for us through its use of fire runes and the ice run off from melting the snow banks. I'm not sure if the indoor plumbing has held up all these years, though," Naranka said, pulling out the relevant files.

"It has in most places. We'll still need to bring in either a dwarven or Tevinter architect to double check the quality though," Ransley said. He gestured at one of the areas marked in red, "It'll be more costly to repair and it will delay us fixing the outer walls on time if we are attacked during then, though."

Paeriel grimaced, her own hand reaching for the Anchor as another minor pulse raced through them, "Honestly, I would much rather have clean drinking water with working plumbing than working outer walls at the moment."

"Even after what happened at Haven?" Naranka's brow rose, "You have to be kidding me, Pae! You don't let the spawn in through a crackand the wonder why you have an ogre breathing down your neck!"

Armashok scratched at his horns again, "Safety is more important right now. We can fix the water issue once we get more established. For now, we need to make sure our people feel safe after Haven's destruction."

Paeriel sighed and leaned forward on her hands, "If I can call in a few favors and have someone work on it so long as they get food and shelter, it should be fine, right?"

Ransley arched a brow, "What kind of contacts do you have, Lavellan?"

"Not exactly my favorite people," She looked away as if ashamed. One more mystery to this woman. No wonder her and Solas got along so well. The two of them seemed wrapped up in their own world of ancient secrets and old ties. How someone so young managed to have so many secrets was beyond him.

"These people...any rules for hiring them? What's the catch?" Naranka folded her arms.

Paeriel tossed her head back and laughed, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

She sighed and spread her hands to either side, "I ran with a group of vengeance hunters called the Knives of Plenty for a time."

"Isn't that the group of former city elves that used the sewers and alleys and other dark places to attack and kill human nobles for abusing their servants?" Armashok asked, "Their services could be bought, but only if you could prove that they were hurting their people. Really worth the coin for some info they could get, though. If memory serves me right."

Paeriel nodded, "Yes. They were primarily city elves, but there were disillusioned Dalish and elven mages seeking Refuge. They even took in elf-blooded humans who shared their cause, as they as as much elven as they are human."

Ransley held up his hands, "Wait a second here! You want us to enlist terrorists to fix our plumbing? And you were one of them? They killed people like us!"

The three of nonhumans exchanged a look between themselves, as if silently daring each other. Naranka cleared her throat, "I should point out, they only targeted human people like you. But you haven't harmed any elves, have you, Ransley?"

"Of course not!" He frowned at them, "This still doesn't explain how they are going to fix the pipes, though."

Paeriel rolled her eyes, "Many of them used to have regular jobs before they were pushed too far. More than half of them worked in tight quarters and bad conditions. This will be a lot safer than their old jobs, they get food and shelter, and a place to feel accepted. We get our pipes and our walls fixed. It's a win-win."

"Plus, we get some good PR for 'reforming crimminals'," Armashok chuckled with his hands making gestures of sarcasm, "How does this go bad?"

"Let's just say I had a rough break with their leader when I left and they will need a lot of convincing to join up." Paeriel leaned forward into her knuckles and looked at the table.

Naranka scratched her head, but nodded her agreement, "Who here doesn't have a dark history of some kind?"

Ransley sighed and looked over at the Dalish. Perhaps, it was time to put grudges aside and try and open up the sheltered walls he had lived in. These three could help him move past the echo chamber he had grown up in. He cleared his throat and set the cups in his hands down, "Tell us about it."