Vesryn wondered if the Inquisition would ever recover from the bout of fun it was having recently.
It was remarkable how quickly the minds of many got to work to improve on something with potential. In the span of two days the soldiers stationed below Skyhold had carved out lanes in the hillside and smoothed down the snow to make for easy to navigate slopes. Some of the mages cut out packed down steps sturdy enough for heavy individuals to more easily make their way up to the top. And every variety of shield or similarly flat surface was tested out for the purposes of sledding. In the end it was the simple round shield that proved most effective for a single passenger, although those of an old Tevinter design, with a slight convex shape and a smooth outer surface, that won out in the end. There weren't many on hand, just a few taken from battles with the Venatori, which meant that plenty of other designs were being tried out in the meantime.
Vesryn was making an afternoon of it with Stel, Cyrus, and Astraia. He'd wondered if Stel would be willing to spend so much time so selfishly two days in a row, but seeing as it meant Cyrus was getting out and enjoying himself, she was accepting of the sacrificed afternoon. The Venatori shields worked as well as advertised, and the soldiers had taken to oiling them to make them slide more easily along the snow. Once or twice the speeds almost became dangerous, but the snow was still soft enough to cushion anyone's fall if they were unfortunate enough to wipe out.
"Alright... last time," Astraia promised at the top of the lanes. Four paths had been carved out, but the two on the right hand side were now clear for Astraia and Cyrus to make the plummet. She hefted the shield in her hands, grinning sideways at him in the neighboring lane. "Race you."
Cyrus tossed his head, probably trying to clear some of his snow-laden hair out of his eyes. It seemed to be at the awkward stage where it was too short to tie back but long enough to interfere with his vision. At the moment, he hardly seemed to mind. “Very well. Loser owes the winner one of those cinnamon rolls from the tavern."
He backed up several steps, shield held firmly in both hands. “Ready?" He paused for affirmation. “Go."
Lunging into a sprint, Cyrus threw himself forward onto the shield, swinging his legs out under him so he was sliding feet-first down the slope, laying back nearly flat against the shield to minimize wind resistance.
Astraia didn't get quite as good of a start, nor did she take up the aggressive flat position to increase her speed, instead ducking down as low as her small frame would allow in a cross-legged pose. It was evident no more than a second into the race that Cyrus would win, as he practically flew down the slope, easily reaching the bottom before Astraia, despite her own speed being nothing to scoff at.
Cyrus was a few feet from the informal finish line when he hit a curve at the wrong angle, throwing both sled and sledder a considerable distance into the air and over a snowbank. He twisted while airborne, managing to land in a sideways roll and a spray of ice crystals, sliding to a stop just shy of the line. There was half a second's delay, and then he was laughing, the unrestrained sound reaching Vesryn and Stel at the top of the hill easily enough. Before Astraia could slide across the finish line, he reached his hand out and tapped it, laughter dying off a little more gradually than it had begun.
He stood, brushing himself off, then waded through the snow to retrieve his sled, sticking out of the ground at an odd angle where it had landed. “Does it count if I didn't make it all the way there still attached to the sled?"
"I'll give it to you," Astraia conceded, half laughing herself. "You madman."
“Excellent." Cyrus declared this with a light tone. “The sweet taste of victory awaits me, then." He started to climb the slope again, shield under his left arm.
At the top of the hill, Vesryn had been just about to accept a shield from a soldier delivering one back to the top when he heard a voice call out. "Lady Inquisitor!" He turned to find a soldier approaching with some sort of contraption as tall as he was, grinning with red cheeks as much from embarrassment as the cold, if Vesryn had to guess. "We've got a new design to try out, Lady Inquisitor."
Their new design appeared to be a few tower shields secured together with rope, wide enough to sit in when they were laid down vertically, forming a sort of elongated sledding device. The front end had a smaller shield attached, a buckler of some kind, rounded enough to presumably stop the tower shields from nosediving into the snow and sending the whole thing flipping end over end. "We're trying to find better ways for more than one to go down at once," the young soldier explained. "Would you like to try it?"
Stel had to raise a hand to conceal her wry smile. The attempt did look a little ridiculous, and there was a very good chance it would not maintain structural integrity for even one trip down the hill. But Stel looked to be considering it, nodding slightly. "I think we can give it a little field test, if my intrepid crew are willing to help." She lowered her hand, a kind half-turn of her mouth remaining in place.
"Who should we credit if it works?" She asked, tilting her head at the fellow. It was clearly more an inquiry for his name than anything.
"Cidric," the soldier said, rather abruptly, before stumbling a bit over his own tongue. "Uh, my name's Cidric, lady. I'm from Amaranthine."
Vesryn huffed a quiet laugh as he approached the young man. "Don't get too excited now, Cidric." He reached out to accept the sled, as he was obviously among the intrepid crew that would be testing it out. "Since you'll also be getting the blame if we end up snowballs at the bottom." He winked to make sure Cidric didn't take it too seriously. Clapping him on the shoulder, Vesryn positioned the sled at the top of the track, taking up the lead position. By the looks of it, there was room for three people to squeeze in behind him, if they dared. "All aboard!"
He could hear Stel say something else to Cidric, probably some form of encouragement, from the tone, but the exact words weren't distinguishable. Her footsteps through the snow were light, and then she settled in behind him. "This should be interesting," she murmured, bracing her hands on the raised sides of the tower shield they occupied.
Cyrus had apparently returned to the top of the hill in the meantime. He snorted softly when he caught sight of them, shaking his head a bit. “Common sense is screaming no." He handed his shield off to the next person in line, then approached the back of the contraption anyway. “But I'm a madman, so what do I care?" He paused, then: “Astraia, if you would like to try as well, feel free to slide in behind Stellulam. I can push from the back that way."
"I suppose we have a lot of healers here if anyone breaks something," Astraia mused. She was among them, of course, but her experience mending broken bones was limited as of yet. Pushing her hesitation aside, she stepped into the sled behind Stel, carefully situating her weight to be balanced.
"If we do crash, you can all aim for me," Vesryn assured them. "I'm a soft target."
With the sled ready to go, Cyrus was able to get them started on jump into the back just as they started to get some speed downhill. And indeed, it did not take long for the speed to pick up, until the shield was rattling and vibrating beneath Vesryn, wind whipping at his hair and undoubtedly sending it right into Stel's face. They barely survived a few of the bends without being sent flying off the course and into the air.
The last of these was stressful enough on the sled to undo the bindings between the shields somewhere behind the lead. Vesryn could feel the weight of the whole thing shift suddenly when Astraia and Cyrus were separated from them, their half of the sled immediately tipping over and dumping them into the snow. The front half didn't last much longer, twisting back the other way and pitching them over onto their right side. Vesryn skidded into the snow a few feet ahead of the rest, the crash sending up a large cloud of frost into the air, making it impossible to see for a moment.
A quick reach was enough to confirm that Stel had ended up next to him, when his gloved hand found her shoulder. "That went about as well as expected. Everyone okay?"
"I'm alright!" Astraia called from somewhere behind him. "That was really fun."
Stel pushed herself up until she was sitting relatively straight, a small mound of snow cascading off her person in the process. "All my parts are still attached, I think." She glanced in his direction and snorted. "Lord Snowball, indeed."
“Prototype testing has proven unsuccessful." Cyrus said it loud enough to reach the top of the hill again; the words were probably aimed at Cidric. “Back to the drawing board, I should think." There was enough noise in his direction to surmise that he'd staggered to his feet, and a slight scrape as he collected what must have been the back end of the former sled.
"Unless it was designed for the amusement of onlookers. In that case, I believe it functioned admirably." That voice was new, at least to this particular context. It belonged to Harellan, standing at the top of the hill and wearing a rather broad smile. "Do you all have a moment? I believe I've come across something that will interest you."
Lord Snowball collected the front half of the sled, using his free hand to try and get at least some of the snow out of his hair and cloak. He supposed he now understand some of the difficulty Stel had had before arriving at the Herald's Rest yesterday. The hike back up the hill wasn't the easiest with the two heavy halves of the sledding contraption, but those at least they were able to hand off to a very apologetic Cidric. "It's got potential, but still needs some work," Vesryn informed him jokingly. He nodded and thanked them profusely for trying it out. Vesryn supposed it was a rather special occasion for a number of these men, being able to sled like children with some of the Irregulars, and their Lady Inquisitor herself.
"Good to see you Harellan," Vesryn greeted. "Have you met Astraia yet? She's a friend of mine, from the Tirashan."
Astraia stopped beside him, taking in Harellan's appearance, as well as his name. They'd both been present for the game of capture the flag yesterday, as well as the celebrations afterward, but Vesryn wasn't sure if they'd been introduced. Judging by Astraia's reaction they had not, at least not properly. "Hello," she said.
Harellan's smile didn't fade much, though it gentled a bit at the edges. He touched a hand to his heart before letting it fall back to his side. "Andaran atish’an. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Astraia." He looked like he had just realized something, or figured something out, but he didn't give any indication as to what.
His eyes moved back to the others. "It can wait, if you'd rather remain, but I have just received a most unusual visitor to the stables; I suspect the relevant parties are all here."
"I think we've had our fun for the day," Vesryn said. "And we should probably make our escape before the troops come up with another attempt to break our bones." A few good-humored laughs sounded out from behind him.
Before long they were on the path back up towards Skyhold's main gate, located on the far end of the impressive bridge that funneled any would be attacker into a narrow corridor. There the wind picked up rather swiftly, prompting the frigid members of the party to shrink inside their cloaks as best they could, but Astraia took the opportunity to speak up. "May I ask where you're from, uh, Harellan?" She was obviously uneasy about the name, but Vesryn imagined the man must've gotten used to that sort of reaction from other elves by this point.
"Arlathan." The name rolled off his tongue like the easiest thing in the world, though of course it was hardly that. As far as the Dalish knew, Arlathan Forest was lost to the elves, abandoned and empty in the most hostile empire in Thedas. He glanced back a bit at Astraia over his shoulder. "It's a rather long story, I admit, but some of the Elvhen still live there. As did I, many years ago." He smiled, then turned his eyes forward again.
"And you hail from the Tirashan? That too is quite a distance." The observation was delivered in a thoughtful tone. "All the way across Orlais, isn't it?"
Astraia looked a bit too distracted by Harellan's answer to provide one of her own in a timely manner. Vesryn was also hit by a rather stirring emotion in his head provided by Saraya. Arlathan... that was quite the answer. To say she was curious to learn more was an understatement. Astraia, too, seemed inquisitive, but made sure to be respectful. "It is. We came a long way to get here, my brother, Shae and I. Looking for Ves. It's... also a long story."
They passed through the gate, which was then quickly closed behind them. Immediately they felt some relief as the walls provided a little protection from the sharp winds, and they turned right, heading across the grounds for the stables. "I believe Harellan knows the important parts of why you came. No need to worry." That put her at ease a little. Vesryn knew she was very uncomfortable with the topic, given how poor of a liar she was. It seemed the brief talk was at an end, however, as they were approaching the stables.
"Never fear." Harellan moved up to the stable door, pushing it open with the palm of a hand. "I was only curious as to how far our guest had come, after all. As I am now quite certain he is here for you." He gestured the rest of them in ahead of himself.
Vesryn and Astraia were the first two inside, at which point Astraia gasped when it immediately became clear why Harellan had come for them. "Athim!" she cried, rushing past the first few horses. In the center of the stables, not tied to anything but standing dutifully in place, was a large and proud halla, fit for riding or difficult labor, with an almost shining silver-grey coloration and white horns that spiraled back away from his head. Astraia came to a halt before him, putting a hand on his neck, letting her forehead fall against his and rest there. The halla pressed against her softly in greeting, and her grip tightened on him. He looked tired, but if Vesryn was understanding things correctly, he'd come a very long way to find her.
"I'm so happy you're here," Astraia said, her voice thick and breathy. Vesryn noted that the halla was saddled, the bags obviously packed with something. A variety of small shapes. He worried momentarily that there was supposed to be a rider along with the halla, but if he remembered right, this particular halla had been Astraia's favorite among those that belonged to her clan. They'd had a bond as tight if not more so than she had with many of her clan.
He made his way beside Astraia, giving her shoulder a squeeze before he looked back to Stel and Cyrus. "Met many halla before?" Athim would be quite gentle, he knew, so long as they approached as friends.
"Not many," Stel admitted. She was grinning, though, apparently at Astraia's obvious joy. She moved forward quite slowly, keeping her hands in clear sight, and stopping about three feet from Athim. "May I?" she asked, apparently addressing herself to some combination of Astraia and the halla himself. They were quite intelligent, after all.
"Oh, yes, please," Astraia said, stepping to the side a bit and blinking rapidly. "He can see you're friends of mine."
"Hello there, gorgeous," Stel murmured, laying a hand on Athim's soft nose. She stroked down by curling her fingers, then reached up to rub at his ears. "We're glad to meet you. Your friend Astraia has been helping us all very much."
“Might want to stop her before she starts telling him what a good halla he is." Cyrus's words were dry, but the expression on his face was a great deal softer as he studied the scene. “She used to name the Chantry mice." Crossing his arms over his chest, he tilted his head towards the saddlebags. “It looks like you might have gifts, Astraia."
"I didn't open anything." Harellan closed the stable door over behind them with a soft thud. "Figured I'd see if anyone recognized him first. Clearly not a bad idea."
Astraia began to look through the bags, finding a large knitted blanket in the first. She squeezed it, opening it up to find that a decorative pattern of the image of Ghilan'nain atop a halla was stitched into it. Folding it back up, she set it atop Athim's back, and found a sealed letter in the next bag. She pried open the envelope, carefully unfolding the letter and reading slowly over its contents.
Vesryn took a moment to pat at Athim himself next to Stel. "He is rather handsome, isn't he?" Halla came in quite a few shapes, some of them thin and slender, but Athim was a powerful creature, strong and sturdy. He would have to be, to make the journey all the way from the Tirashan to here as winter came on. "I'm starting to feel a little jealous."
"The letter is from Zeth," Astraia said quietly, drawing Vesryn's attention. "Says he asked Athim to come find me. Trusted him to know the way, and knew he wouldn't stop until he reached me." She bit her lip softly, twining the fingers on one hand through the hair on the halla's back. "He and Shae made it home safely, and explained to the clan my decision. They wish me the best." She sniffed. "I doubt all of them are, but it's nice to hear at least."
"I don't know about that," Vesryn said, grinning slightly at her. "I imagine clan Thremael is happy to have a representative in the Inquisition, especially one such as you." Astraia shook her head as if to deny the compliment, but she didn't refute it out loud.
"There are gifts from the clan included," she continued. "A necklace and bracelet from our crafts master, Marelya. Neras made me new boots. Ashwen gave me her scarf. And my mother stitched the blanket." She looked away from the letter, leaning heavily against Athim's flank. "Oh, I think I'm going to cry now."
Stel shuffled over a bit, to rest a hand on Astraia's back, splaying her fingers out between her shoulderblades. "I know that feeling," she said, smiling gently. "We can give you time if you'd like it, but we promise not to laugh otherwise."
Astraia laughed herself, but a tear did manage to escape. "It's all right." She looked back to the letter, reading down near the bottom of it. "Zeth, he... apologized again for what happened. Wants everyone to know... it looks like he couldn't figure out what to write. Sorry isn't nearly enough, he says. But he hopes someday we might be able to forgive him." Her eyes shifted uneasily up to Vesryn and then to Stel and Cy.
Vesryn exhaled a long breath, still watching Athim. "It's going to take a lot more time than this. But this is a good start." He still wasn't sure what had happened was something he could ever forgive, but it was difficult to think clearly about, given how deeply he cared for the people that had been hurt. Time and distance, he felt, were still what was needed the most.
Stel tilted her head. Knowing her, she'd probably already forgiven the parts of the whole ordeal that involved harm to herself. "I'm glad he seems to be doing better," she said, glancing once at Vesryn and then back again at Astraia. "That means there's hope for everything else to work out. And it sounds like he helped them understand what you chose to do. I'm glad."
Cyrus seemed to be in agreement with that much, at least, nodding slightly but not saying anything. He looked slightly ill-at-ease, but that too he was silent about.
It was Harellan who spoke next, in fact. "I think Athim here has earned himself a rest. There's a stall set up here with everything he needs, and you can come visit whenever you like." He paused a moment, then tilted his head at the four of them. "Perhaps we could also use a rest?"
“We have been sledding all day, I suppose." Cyrus's brows furrowed for a moment. “Should be sunset soon. Dinner on the tower roof, anyone?"
It was remarkable how quickly the minds of many got to work to improve on something with potential. In the span of two days the soldiers stationed below Skyhold had carved out lanes in the hillside and smoothed down the snow to make for easy to navigate slopes. Some of the mages cut out packed down steps sturdy enough for heavy individuals to more easily make their way up to the top. And every variety of shield or similarly flat surface was tested out for the purposes of sledding. In the end it was the simple round shield that proved most effective for a single passenger, although those of an old Tevinter design, with a slight convex shape and a smooth outer surface, that won out in the end. There weren't many on hand, just a few taken from battles with the Venatori, which meant that plenty of other designs were being tried out in the meantime.
Vesryn was making an afternoon of it with Stel, Cyrus, and Astraia. He'd wondered if Stel would be willing to spend so much time so selfishly two days in a row, but seeing as it meant Cyrus was getting out and enjoying himself, she was accepting of the sacrificed afternoon. The Venatori shields worked as well as advertised, and the soldiers had taken to oiling them to make them slide more easily along the snow. Once or twice the speeds almost became dangerous, but the snow was still soft enough to cushion anyone's fall if they were unfortunate enough to wipe out.
"Alright... last time," Astraia promised at the top of the lanes. Four paths had been carved out, but the two on the right hand side were now clear for Astraia and Cyrus to make the plummet. She hefted the shield in her hands, grinning sideways at him in the neighboring lane. "Race you."
Cyrus tossed his head, probably trying to clear some of his snow-laden hair out of his eyes. It seemed to be at the awkward stage where it was too short to tie back but long enough to interfere with his vision. At the moment, he hardly seemed to mind. “Very well. Loser owes the winner one of those cinnamon rolls from the tavern."
He backed up several steps, shield held firmly in both hands. “Ready?" He paused for affirmation. “Go."
Lunging into a sprint, Cyrus threw himself forward onto the shield, swinging his legs out under him so he was sliding feet-first down the slope, laying back nearly flat against the shield to minimize wind resistance.
Astraia didn't get quite as good of a start, nor did she take up the aggressive flat position to increase her speed, instead ducking down as low as her small frame would allow in a cross-legged pose. It was evident no more than a second into the race that Cyrus would win, as he practically flew down the slope, easily reaching the bottom before Astraia, despite her own speed being nothing to scoff at.
Cyrus was a few feet from the informal finish line when he hit a curve at the wrong angle, throwing both sled and sledder a considerable distance into the air and over a snowbank. He twisted while airborne, managing to land in a sideways roll and a spray of ice crystals, sliding to a stop just shy of the line. There was half a second's delay, and then he was laughing, the unrestrained sound reaching Vesryn and Stel at the top of the hill easily enough. Before Astraia could slide across the finish line, he reached his hand out and tapped it, laughter dying off a little more gradually than it had begun.
He stood, brushing himself off, then waded through the snow to retrieve his sled, sticking out of the ground at an odd angle where it had landed. “Does it count if I didn't make it all the way there still attached to the sled?"
"I'll give it to you," Astraia conceded, half laughing herself. "You madman."
“Excellent." Cyrus declared this with a light tone. “The sweet taste of victory awaits me, then." He started to climb the slope again, shield under his left arm.
At the top of the hill, Vesryn had been just about to accept a shield from a soldier delivering one back to the top when he heard a voice call out. "Lady Inquisitor!" He turned to find a soldier approaching with some sort of contraption as tall as he was, grinning with red cheeks as much from embarrassment as the cold, if Vesryn had to guess. "We've got a new design to try out, Lady Inquisitor."
Their new design appeared to be a few tower shields secured together with rope, wide enough to sit in when they were laid down vertically, forming a sort of elongated sledding device. The front end had a smaller shield attached, a buckler of some kind, rounded enough to presumably stop the tower shields from nosediving into the snow and sending the whole thing flipping end over end. "We're trying to find better ways for more than one to go down at once," the young soldier explained. "Would you like to try it?"
Stel had to raise a hand to conceal her wry smile. The attempt did look a little ridiculous, and there was a very good chance it would not maintain structural integrity for even one trip down the hill. But Stel looked to be considering it, nodding slightly. "I think we can give it a little field test, if my intrepid crew are willing to help." She lowered her hand, a kind half-turn of her mouth remaining in place.
"Who should we credit if it works?" She asked, tilting her head at the fellow. It was clearly more an inquiry for his name than anything.
"Cidric," the soldier said, rather abruptly, before stumbling a bit over his own tongue. "Uh, my name's Cidric, lady. I'm from Amaranthine."
Vesryn huffed a quiet laugh as he approached the young man. "Don't get too excited now, Cidric." He reached out to accept the sled, as he was obviously among the intrepid crew that would be testing it out. "Since you'll also be getting the blame if we end up snowballs at the bottom." He winked to make sure Cidric didn't take it too seriously. Clapping him on the shoulder, Vesryn positioned the sled at the top of the track, taking up the lead position. By the looks of it, there was room for three people to squeeze in behind him, if they dared. "All aboard!"
He could hear Stel say something else to Cidric, probably some form of encouragement, from the tone, but the exact words weren't distinguishable. Her footsteps through the snow were light, and then she settled in behind him. "This should be interesting," she murmured, bracing her hands on the raised sides of the tower shield they occupied.
Cyrus had apparently returned to the top of the hill in the meantime. He snorted softly when he caught sight of them, shaking his head a bit. “Common sense is screaming no." He handed his shield off to the next person in line, then approached the back of the contraption anyway. “But I'm a madman, so what do I care?" He paused, then: “Astraia, if you would like to try as well, feel free to slide in behind Stellulam. I can push from the back that way."
"I suppose we have a lot of healers here if anyone breaks something," Astraia mused. She was among them, of course, but her experience mending broken bones was limited as of yet. Pushing her hesitation aside, she stepped into the sled behind Stel, carefully situating her weight to be balanced.
"If we do crash, you can all aim for me," Vesryn assured them. "I'm a soft target."
With the sled ready to go, Cyrus was able to get them started on jump into the back just as they started to get some speed downhill. And indeed, it did not take long for the speed to pick up, until the shield was rattling and vibrating beneath Vesryn, wind whipping at his hair and undoubtedly sending it right into Stel's face. They barely survived a few of the bends without being sent flying off the course and into the air.
The last of these was stressful enough on the sled to undo the bindings between the shields somewhere behind the lead. Vesryn could feel the weight of the whole thing shift suddenly when Astraia and Cyrus were separated from them, their half of the sled immediately tipping over and dumping them into the snow. The front half didn't last much longer, twisting back the other way and pitching them over onto their right side. Vesryn skidded into the snow a few feet ahead of the rest, the crash sending up a large cloud of frost into the air, making it impossible to see for a moment.
A quick reach was enough to confirm that Stel had ended up next to him, when his gloved hand found her shoulder. "That went about as well as expected. Everyone okay?"
"I'm alright!" Astraia called from somewhere behind him. "That was really fun."
Stel pushed herself up until she was sitting relatively straight, a small mound of snow cascading off her person in the process. "All my parts are still attached, I think." She glanced in his direction and snorted. "Lord Snowball, indeed."
“Prototype testing has proven unsuccessful." Cyrus said it loud enough to reach the top of the hill again; the words were probably aimed at Cidric. “Back to the drawing board, I should think." There was enough noise in his direction to surmise that he'd staggered to his feet, and a slight scrape as he collected what must have been the back end of the former sled.
"Unless it was designed for the amusement of onlookers. In that case, I believe it functioned admirably." That voice was new, at least to this particular context. It belonged to Harellan, standing at the top of the hill and wearing a rather broad smile. "Do you all have a moment? I believe I've come across something that will interest you."
Lord Snowball collected the front half of the sled, using his free hand to try and get at least some of the snow out of his hair and cloak. He supposed he now understand some of the difficulty Stel had had before arriving at the Herald's Rest yesterday. The hike back up the hill wasn't the easiest with the two heavy halves of the sledding contraption, but those at least they were able to hand off to a very apologetic Cidric. "It's got potential, but still needs some work," Vesryn informed him jokingly. He nodded and thanked them profusely for trying it out. Vesryn supposed it was a rather special occasion for a number of these men, being able to sled like children with some of the Irregulars, and their Lady Inquisitor herself.
"Good to see you Harellan," Vesryn greeted. "Have you met Astraia yet? She's a friend of mine, from the Tirashan."
Astraia stopped beside him, taking in Harellan's appearance, as well as his name. They'd both been present for the game of capture the flag yesterday, as well as the celebrations afterward, but Vesryn wasn't sure if they'd been introduced. Judging by Astraia's reaction they had not, at least not properly. "Hello," she said.
Harellan's smile didn't fade much, though it gentled a bit at the edges. He touched a hand to his heart before letting it fall back to his side. "Andaran atish’an. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Astraia." He looked like he had just realized something, or figured something out, but he didn't give any indication as to what.
His eyes moved back to the others. "It can wait, if you'd rather remain, but I have just received a most unusual visitor to the stables; I suspect the relevant parties are all here."
"I think we've had our fun for the day," Vesryn said. "And we should probably make our escape before the troops come up with another attempt to break our bones." A few good-humored laughs sounded out from behind him.
Before long they were on the path back up towards Skyhold's main gate, located on the far end of the impressive bridge that funneled any would be attacker into a narrow corridor. There the wind picked up rather swiftly, prompting the frigid members of the party to shrink inside their cloaks as best they could, but Astraia took the opportunity to speak up. "May I ask where you're from, uh, Harellan?" She was obviously uneasy about the name, but Vesryn imagined the man must've gotten used to that sort of reaction from other elves by this point.
"Arlathan." The name rolled off his tongue like the easiest thing in the world, though of course it was hardly that. As far as the Dalish knew, Arlathan Forest was lost to the elves, abandoned and empty in the most hostile empire in Thedas. He glanced back a bit at Astraia over his shoulder. "It's a rather long story, I admit, but some of the Elvhen still live there. As did I, many years ago." He smiled, then turned his eyes forward again.
"And you hail from the Tirashan? That too is quite a distance." The observation was delivered in a thoughtful tone. "All the way across Orlais, isn't it?"
Astraia looked a bit too distracted by Harellan's answer to provide one of her own in a timely manner. Vesryn was also hit by a rather stirring emotion in his head provided by Saraya. Arlathan... that was quite the answer. To say she was curious to learn more was an understatement. Astraia, too, seemed inquisitive, but made sure to be respectful. "It is. We came a long way to get here, my brother, Shae and I. Looking for Ves. It's... also a long story."
They passed through the gate, which was then quickly closed behind them. Immediately they felt some relief as the walls provided a little protection from the sharp winds, and they turned right, heading across the grounds for the stables. "I believe Harellan knows the important parts of why you came. No need to worry." That put her at ease a little. Vesryn knew she was very uncomfortable with the topic, given how poor of a liar she was. It seemed the brief talk was at an end, however, as they were approaching the stables.
"Never fear." Harellan moved up to the stable door, pushing it open with the palm of a hand. "I was only curious as to how far our guest had come, after all. As I am now quite certain he is here for you." He gestured the rest of them in ahead of himself.
Vesryn and Astraia were the first two inside, at which point Astraia gasped when it immediately became clear why Harellan had come for them. "Athim!" she cried, rushing past the first few horses. In the center of the stables, not tied to anything but standing dutifully in place, was a large and proud halla, fit for riding or difficult labor, with an almost shining silver-grey coloration and white horns that spiraled back away from his head. Astraia came to a halt before him, putting a hand on his neck, letting her forehead fall against his and rest there. The halla pressed against her softly in greeting, and her grip tightened on him. He looked tired, but if Vesryn was understanding things correctly, he'd come a very long way to find her.
"I'm so happy you're here," Astraia said, her voice thick and breathy. Vesryn noted that the halla was saddled, the bags obviously packed with something. A variety of small shapes. He worried momentarily that there was supposed to be a rider along with the halla, but if he remembered right, this particular halla had been Astraia's favorite among those that belonged to her clan. They'd had a bond as tight if not more so than she had with many of her clan.
He made his way beside Astraia, giving her shoulder a squeeze before he looked back to Stel and Cyrus. "Met many halla before?" Athim would be quite gentle, he knew, so long as they approached as friends.
"Not many," Stel admitted. She was grinning, though, apparently at Astraia's obvious joy. She moved forward quite slowly, keeping her hands in clear sight, and stopping about three feet from Athim. "May I?" she asked, apparently addressing herself to some combination of Astraia and the halla himself. They were quite intelligent, after all.
"Oh, yes, please," Astraia said, stepping to the side a bit and blinking rapidly. "He can see you're friends of mine."
"Hello there, gorgeous," Stel murmured, laying a hand on Athim's soft nose. She stroked down by curling her fingers, then reached up to rub at his ears. "We're glad to meet you. Your friend Astraia has been helping us all very much."
“Might want to stop her before she starts telling him what a good halla he is." Cyrus's words were dry, but the expression on his face was a great deal softer as he studied the scene. “She used to name the Chantry mice." Crossing his arms over his chest, he tilted his head towards the saddlebags. “It looks like you might have gifts, Astraia."
"I didn't open anything." Harellan closed the stable door over behind them with a soft thud. "Figured I'd see if anyone recognized him first. Clearly not a bad idea."
Astraia began to look through the bags, finding a large knitted blanket in the first. She squeezed it, opening it up to find that a decorative pattern of the image of Ghilan'nain atop a halla was stitched into it. Folding it back up, she set it atop Athim's back, and found a sealed letter in the next bag. She pried open the envelope, carefully unfolding the letter and reading slowly over its contents.
Vesryn took a moment to pat at Athim himself next to Stel. "He is rather handsome, isn't he?" Halla came in quite a few shapes, some of them thin and slender, but Athim was a powerful creature, strong and sturdy. He would have to be, to make the journey all the way from the Tirashan to here as winter came on. "I'm starting to feel a little jealous."
"The letter is from Zeth," Astraia said quietly, drawing Vesryn's attention. "Says he asked Athim to come find me. Trusted him to know the way, and knew he wouldn't stop until he reached me." She bit her lip softly, twining the fingers on one hand through the hair on the halla's back. "He and Shae made it home safely, and explained to the clan my decision. They wish me the best." She sniffed. "I doubt all of them are, but it's nice to hear at least."
"I don't know about that," Vesryn said, grinning slightly at her. "I imagine clan Thremael is happy to have a representative in the Inquisition, especially one such as you." Astraia shook her head as if to deny the compliment, but she didn't refute it out loud.
"There are gifts from the clan included," she continued. "A necklace and bracelet from our crafts master, Marelya. Neras made me new boots. Ashwen gave me her scarf. And my mother stitched the blanket." She looked away from the letter, leaning heavily against Athim's flank. "Oh, I think I'm going to cry now."
Stel shuffled over a bit, to rest a hand on Astraia's back, splaying her fingers out between her shoulderblades. "I know that feeling," she said, smiling gently. "We can give you time if you'd like it, but we promise not to laugh otherwise."
Astraia laughed herself, but a tear did manage to escape. "It's all right." She looked back to the letter, reading down near the bottom of it. "Zeth, he... apologized again for what happened. Wants everyone to know... it looks like he couldn't figure out what to write. Sorry isn't nearly enough, he says. But he hopes someday we might be able to forgive him." Her eyes shifted uneasily up to Vesryn and then to Stel and Cy.
Vesryn exhaled a long breath, still watching Athim. "It's going to take a lot more time than this. But this is a good start." He still wasn't sure what had happened was something he could ever forgive, but it was difficult to think clearly about, given how deeply he cared for the people that had been hurt. Time and distance, he felt, were still what was needed the most.
Stel tilted her head. Knowing her, she'd probably already forgiven the parts of the whole ordeal that involved harm to herself. "I'm glad he seems to be doing better," she said, glancing once at Vesryn and then back again at Astraia. "That means there's hope for everything else to work out. And it sounds like he helped them understand what you chose to do. I'm glad."
Cyrus seemed to be in agreement with that much, at least, nodding slightly but not saying anything. He looked slightly ill-at-ease, but that too he was silent about.
It was Harellan who spoke next, in fact. "I think Athim here has earned himself a rest. There's a stall set up here with everything he needs, and you can come visit whenever you like." He paused a moment, then tilted his head at the four of them. "Perhaps we could also use a rest?"
“We have been sledding all day, I suppose." Cyrus's brows furrowed for a moment. “Should be sunset soon. Dinner on the tower roof, anyone?"