#yes this Ted Templar was recruited by Varric

[contreparry]

Omg please do "A chase on horseback" from the Scarlet Pimpernel prompts for our buddy Ted Templar? I NEED IT

The sequel to this Ted Templar post, and a more faithful interpretation of the prompt, I now present “Ted Templar, A Chase On Horseback” for @dadrunkwriting (and @biblioteknician)!

Ted Templar wasn’t much of a rider. Not a lot of places to ride to back home, and horses could be pretty damn intimidating when you got up close to them. Big ol’ hoofs. Big damn teeth. But they grew on you, little by little, and when Ted Templar came in to help streamline the messenger system because an old friend asked (“C’mon Ted, you know I wouldn’t trust my mail with anyone else, you’re not just the best in Kirkwall but the best in Thedas. Take this on as a favor for me?”), well, Ted didn’t like backing down from a challenge.

It was a damn big challenge. A sense of responsibility might have been the thing holding these messengers together, but it was one measly little thread, stretched so tight it might snap at any moment. Stressed messengers. Stressed horses. No communication whatsoever, and every single messenger had... well Ted wished he could meet their mothers because he had a feeling if he did he’d finally understand why Ysolde kept ten knives on her person at any given time and why Wilfred always hoarded hardtack. So much damn hardtack.

But it was getting better. He won a few battles. Lost a few as well, but progress was being made. The horses weren’t run ragged, so Dennet was happy, which meant he wasn’t shouting at messengers, which meant they weren’t as stressed. He managed to chat with some of the Inner Circle- Blackwall could be found at his carpentry bench and had some sage insight on the roads in Orlais and Ferelden, which was good, and there was the funny elvhen lady, Sera, who liked to pop in and cheer them all up with some grand stories and information from the inns and towns up and down the roads. Friends helping friends, she always said before disappearing. Funny girl, that one. Mysterious. Ted didn’t know what to make of her at all. But ah well, he thought as he took a long sip from his morning coffee (imported, but the cook said he wasn’t the only one who enjoyed the drink so he figured the small luxury was fine). He was ready to enjoy a slow day in the stables, where he’d go over the latest maps and reports and reorganize their routes to best ensure safety and punctuality-

“Coach! Coach, there’s a problem!” Samuel exclaimed as he raced into the stables, his broken (now heavily bandaged and splinted) leg barely slowing him down. “Loose horse!” He nearly hit his horns against the doorframe, even though he ducked to enter Ted’s small office at the end of the stables. Ted sighed and rose from his seat, downing his coffee in one great gulp. Sad. He was hoping to savor that, but he’d just have to enjoy his coffee tomorrow with extra gusto. Right now, duty called.

The horse was racing around the yard, frantically shaking its head like a snake, dark eyes wide and wild, golden coat gleaming under the afternoon sun. Her dark mane and tail fluttered in the wind like flags. The horse was saddled, and there was mud on her legs. Her flanks were wet with sweat as she cantered and whinnied and looked pretty damn stressed for a horse. Wilfrid and Lucia sat on the fence as Ysolde chased the horse around the yard, an apple in her long-fingered hand as she tried to tempt the horse to come to her.

“C’mon, Buttercup,” she pleaded with the horse. “I can’t chase you all afternoon, I have a message to take over the mountain, sweetie- Fucking Elgar’nan’s Balls, why must you be as smart as a halla and three times as willful?!” The horse snatched the apple and danced away, back towards the main gate and bridge as if she wanted to cajole them all into a game of chase.

“Go on, Ysolde! You can catch her!” Lucia cheered, her short legs kicking wildly as she leaned forward to shout her encouragement. “You’re her second favorite person, after all!” Seemingly encouraged by the power of positivity, Ysolde managed to snatch Buttercup’s reins and lead her into a gentle trot that turned into a cool-down walk. Yep, solid horsemanship right there. Ted might not be a rider, but he learned the basics, and you always warmed up and cooled down yourself and your partner before and after a run. But where did Buttercup’s rider go?

“Now what’s all this ruckus?” Ted asked, startling his three messengers. They looked around the stables, as if expecting the errant rider to magically pop into existence. Ted half-expected it to happen as well. Lots of strange things happened in Skyhold, and if Mr. Tethras weren’t so insistent that he had to come and fix up this message system...

“Oh Maker’s Bloody Ballsack,” Dennet breathed out, appearing like a ghost in a horror novel at Ted’s shoulder (Sure, Ted believed in ghosts, and he hoped that ghosts believed in him, but it didn’t mean he liked being surprised like that!). “Did Buttercup come in here alone?”

“Far as I know,” he replied. Dennet’s face paled considerably. Not a good sign, but they all dealt with the worst. But nothing could prepare him for what Dennet said next.

“Shit. Ted, that’s the Inquisitor’s horse. She took her out for a morning ride.”

Well that was bad news. He hadn’t met the Inquisitor, only saw her at a distance once, speaking with Mr. Tethras, all bundled up in furs with her dark hair neatly pinned up around her head like a crown. She seemed... well, remarkably well-adjusted, considering the chaos surrounding her. All that stress couldn’t be healthy.

“It’s about noon now,” Ted remarked. “Any idea where she was headed?”

“Only that she promised to stick close. Her Ladyship is a skilled rider. Something terrible must have happened,” Dennet muttered. 

“Samuel! Ysolde! Maps!” Ted hollered. “Lucia, get up to the Inner Circle, go find Jim so he can raise the alarm with the scouts. Wilfred, we’ll be riding out to start the search as soon as we find the search are-”

“FUCKING CREATORS!” Ysolde shouted as Buttercup slipped away and raced out of the ring, recklessly leaping over barrels and fences to  

“Change of plans, y’all keep up with that, I’ll go after the horse!” Ted ordered, and he hopped on the only other saddled horse in the ring- Ol’ Rusty. Ted wasn’t much of a rider, and Rusty wasn’t much of a racer anymore, but between the two of them they should manage to chase after a war mare. Right? Got to keep hope. Got to believe.

So they raced. Past the tavern, past the training grounds, past the chapel, past the watch tower, Buttercup galloping wildly, Ted and Rusty right behind her. He thought she might slow at the bridge, or maybe hesitate at the fork in the road, but Buttercup turned a sharp left and went down, down the narrow hiking trail towards the river, and that-

Was the horse leading them to the Inquisitor?

“Go on, girl. Heard of men leading horses, but horses leading men?” Ted muttered as he and Rusty closed the gap as Buttercup’s gait slowed. He bounced with every step as they went down the path, and when it widened up at the riverbank Ted sidled up to the mare and took the reins in hand.

“Well, show us where your rider is, girl. Ysolde said you’re as smart as a halla, and they’re some bright deer. Go on, show us what you’ve got,” Ted murmured. Buttercup tossed her head and trotted further down the bank, further away from the path and the fortress, but not completely out of sight. And there, in the brambles down the embankment...

“Inquisitor? Miss? You down there?” he called out. The brambles shook, leaves and spring flowers falling to the muddy earth.

“Unfortunately, yes,” a woman’s voice groaned.

“Can you climb out?” Ted asked as he dismounted, Ol’ Rusty content to chew on spring grass while Buttercup looked expectantly at him with her big dark eyes. Smart horse. Smart as a dog. He’d definitely let Dennet know that she deserved the good oats. Maybe some alfalfa.

“I’ve turned my ankle, but with help I can manage it,” the Inquisitor replied, which was awfully positive of her. “Thank you for coming for me, Messere...”

“Ted. Ted Templar. Just my name, not my profession. I run-”

“The messenger corps. I heard. You’ve done good work,” the Inquisitor remarked, and when a hand clad in a dark brown glove reached out through the brambles, Ted grasped it and dragged Inquisitor Trevelyan, leader of the Inquisition and the fearsome mage who closed the Rift, out of the muck and mud and brambles.

“That’s one way to end a horse chase, if you don’t mind me saying, Inquisitor ma’am,” Ted said as the Inquisitor, dressed in simple riding gear, dark hair full of leaves and twigs, face scratched up and a little tired, but smiling, emerged from the bushes.

“It certainly is. Horsemaster Dennet is going to kill me. I promised him I’d be careful,” the Inquisitor mused as she looked up at the fortress above them. Ted helped her limp her way over to Buttercup, then helped lift her up into the saddle.

“Best get to apologizing then, Miss Inquisitor. Ma’am,” Ted replied. “But Dennet’s a softie under all the bluster. You could make him some tea and bring him a scone and he’ll be right as rain. Me, though, much prefer a coffee and a biscuit- not the cookie type, love my sweets but I’m watching my health, you know...”

And so they rode back to Skyhold, Ted Templar and the Inquisitor, and sure, she was a little quiet, but she wasn’t too bad as a traveling companion. She needed to read her maps, though. Maybe if they had a moment to spare he and the corps could mark out safe riding paths around Skyhold. Couldn’t have anyone else falling off their horse and twisting an ankle, after all, and after today Ted Templar was going to learn how to properly ride a horse.