The day after Corypheus's death, Estella still wasn't sure it had sunk in.
The Anchors remained on hers and Rom's hands, much as they'd ever been, even though the artifact that had created them had been shattered when they'd used it to close the reopened Breach in the sky above the keep. The hole in the ceiling and the rest of the structural damage remained, of course; for the moment Leon was working out of Cyrus's atelier, perhaps because Cyrus himself was still here, in the infirmary.
There were enough casualties to overflow into the mages' tower, beds and cots pressed close enough that the healers could only just barely fit between them, never mind chairs for visitors. So she'd sat herself at the end of Cy's mattress, pulling her legs up underneath her and setting his feet on her lap rather than taking up any extra space. Harellan was nearby, she knew; he assisted with some of the healing, but his main concern seemed to be watching over Cyrus, and Astraia who was in the next bed over, though still unconscious.
"You still could have told me what the plan was," she said to her brother, reaching forward a bit to bring her fist down on his knee. There was no force to the 'blow;' it wasn't like she was actually upset with him, though admittedly his risk-taking scared her more than a little. Maybe that was why he'd kept it from her. Much as she didn't like to admit it, that might have been for the best. And they succeeded and survived in the end, so she just didn't have it in her to be mad. "My crazy, reckless brother the hero, huh?"
Cyrus had borne her teasing and gentle assault with the smallest of smiles, until she got to the hero part, where he shook his head immediately. “Crazy and reckless I can agree with, but don't go making me a hero." He glanced over at the sleeping elf across the narrow aisle, then down at his hands. “Astraia saved me, you know. At least twice, by my accounting. I want her to know that." There was something strange in the way he said it, like he was asking Estella to tell her, almost. But of course that didn't make any sense.
Harellan cleared his throat. "Many heroes were made yesterday. Yourself included, lethallan. I can say with great confidence that your parents would be incredibly proud to have the two of you as children. I am certainly proud to be your kin."
She might have asked Cy what he meant with a statement like that, but it just about slipped her mind with what her uncle said after. Coming from someone like Harellan, who knew what he knew and was who he was, having pride to be related to them, to her, was far from a platitude. Not when she considered just who else he could count among his kin.
The familiar urge to downplay things as Cyrus seemed to be doing rose in Estella like old instinct, but for once she pushed it down. Conquered it, and let herself feel just a little pride in herself as well. "Thank you." She hadn't done it alone, of course, but neither she nor he was claiming that, and so she let the words sit without the caveats and qualifications. "I'm proud of all of us."
Turning her eyes back to her brother for a moment, she tilted her head and rested a hand on his leg under the blanket. "Will you keep for a bit? There's a party—I thought I should probably put in an appearance. I'll bring you back some baklava?"
Cyrus was quiet a beat too long for the question, but smiled thinly. “I've survived worse, I think. Though your absence will wound me dearly. I expect dessert when next we meet." His tone was light, and he waved her off with a gesture.
Estella laughed, mindful enough of his condition not to shove him as she might normally have done. "I think that can be arranged. Until then, get some rest. I hear heroics are tiring." She'd argue with him over semantics until he accepted it, but perhaps that would be a discussion for later.
Shifting out from beneath his feet, she set them back down carefully and leaned down to give him a hug. He readily wrapped his arms around her, turning his face in towards her neck and curling his fingers into her shirt. “I love you, Stellulam." His words were just a whisper, a harsh one; his fingers trembled where they clenched.
"Love you, too, Cy." She rubbed his back gently, unable to keep things completely light. The victorious mood was infectious, but at the same time... she hadn't known until late yesterday evening that he'd even survived. The relief was overwhelming in its own way, something she was sure was getting to him as well. Once she'd hugged Harellan, she stepped back. "Let me know if Astraia wakes up, okay? I can bring her something, too." With a little wave, she made her way out of the infirmary and across the bailey, still churned up and darkly-stained from the battle the day before. The Venatori bodies had been burned that morning; she could still smell the last of the ashes.
Mounting the stairs to the keep, she pushed open the door and made her way into the main hall, noise and music already filtering out. She was just entering the long hallway in front of what had once been the dais when she bumped into someone. Instinctively reaching out, Estella steadied the person, only to find herself looking down at Zahra.
"Hello, you," she said, unable to keep herself from grinning. Clearly, the captain had already been at the business of having fun for a while. "Enjoying our victory, I take it?"
Zahra leaned against Stel for a moment before properly righting herself. She took a step backwards and swept her hands out wide, encompassing the hallway. Her eyes were lidded at half-mast but feverishly bright. She’d obviously pulled out all the stops for this particular occasion. Her dusky skin was already splotched with rouge, most noticeably along her exposed collarbone; where her shirt crept dangerously low, though she didn’t seem to notice. Or mind, given her proclivities.
“Hello to you too, lady-of-the-hour.” Her voice lowered into a taciturn whisper. As if she were telling a joke with no punchline. She set her mouth into a wide, toothy grin and straightened her shoulders, planting one of her hands on her hips. It seemed to anchor her in place, or else keep her from falling over. A thick eyebrow rose into her hairline. “Of course, this is the perfect time to empty the stores—the stores of booze. The special stuff. Y’know, the world-saving stuff.” She took a swaggering step to Stel’s side, and slung an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a rougher hug than the one she’d given Cyrus.
“I’m gonna miss you guys… you know that?”
Estella laughed, happy to be pulled into the captain's strong grip. "Well, you won't have to miss all of us, right?" Spotting Asala a little ways away, Estella gestured her over. "Word in the infirmary is the two of you will be sailing off into the sunset. Where do you think you'll be headed first?"
A blush was already seeping into her cheeks while she spoke, but Asala didn't seem affected by her own embarrassment. She probably learned how to deal with it by now. "I was hoping we could visit home again, for a little while at least," she said. "After that?" she said, pulling the inebriated Zahra off of Stel and closer to herself, dropping her arms over her shoulders and locking them above her chest in an embrace. "It's up to the Captain," she said with a beaming smile.
Estella huffed softly, tilting her head. That was a bit of a new development, as far as she knew, but apparently it had been a rather long time coming. Or so said the people who knew them especially well. It was certainly nice to see the confidence in Asala and the tenderness in the often-rougher Zee. Probably best not to encroach on their time, though. "No need to be strangers," she said. "You're always welcome to visit us anytime you like." With a small dip of her head, she took her leave, passing further into the hall.
Here the tables had been righted and repaired to the extent possible, several of them sporting rough blocks of wood for replacement legs. If she looked, she'd probably be able to spot the one she'd broken a rib on, when Corypheus had thrown her into it. But she wasn't particularly keen to know, and much preferred the use to which they were currently being put—holding food and drinks for the people who had worked hard and deserved them.
It was bittersweet, to think of how many would eventually be leaving. The advisors, who'd worked perhaps longest and hardest of all, each intended to leave: Marceline to retire to her lakefront property, Rilien to resume his work with Lucien, and Leon to take his place once more among the Seekers of Truth, though those goodbyes would be months out in Marcy's case and possibly as long as years for the other two. Less far away were Aurora and Sparrow's pending departures, to Val Royeaux and Kirkwall respectively, and she knew many of the other mages would scatter without their Captain to promise them safety and with the end of the Breach, which had once been blamed on them. Aurora and Sparrow were at one of the tables, but Aurora looked despondently into her cup, and Estella wasn't sure company would be welcome.
Sparrow seemed a little more sober; Estella waved to her a little when her feet carried her past.
"Stel!" A familiar voice drew her attention to the right. Cor raised a hand to wave at her, inviting her over to another table section, where he sat with Lia, Hissrad, and Donnelly. They seemed to have been there for a while as well, though none of them was in the habit of drinking quite as much as Zahra or Aurora seemed to have already.
Estella readily joined them, sighing a bit as she slid into an empty part of the bench. "Hey guys." She grabbed the freestanding bottle of something at the middle of the table, though there was a lack of empty cups. Hissrad noticed her dilemma and slid his over the table to her, untouched side forward. "Thanks." She poured herself a bit of the wine and took a swallow before turning her attention to the table itself. It looked like there'd been a card game in progress, one that had finished recently.
"Guess this'll be the last time we're all together for a while, won't it?"
Donnelly reached up to rub at the back of his neck. "Yeah. It's been great here, but... we're Lions, you know? I just feel like that's what I'm always gonna be, and right now, Val Royeaux's where I have to go."
She smiled a little sadly, and nodded once. Once, they'd all been the same in that: Argent Lions before anything else, bound by that bond of camaraderie and shared purpose. Part of her always would be—it was only because she'd been a Lion first that she was ever able to rise to the challenge of being an Inquisitor. But she'd taken so many steps toward that new thing that she couldn't retrace them anymore. The Inquisition was her home, in the way that the barracks had been before it.
"I'm gonna stay a little while longer." Lia set down her cup. Her cheeks were a little red, a sure indication that she'd be stopping soon. Estella was already with the Lions when she'd had her first drink, and in all that time she'd never gone overboard with it. "Much as I'd like to go back, I might still be needed here. With Leta escaping..." It was an unfortunate side effect of the damage done to the fortress during the battle. They'd simply found her gone when someone finally thought to look.
"I just want to make sure there's no trouble on your hands before I abandon you, you know?" She grinned.
Estella smiled. "I appreciate that, really." Leta's escape was a little more personal for Lia than the others, probably, given the woman's connection to Marcus and Marcus's to Amalia and Ithilian in turn. No doubt Lia understood better than most just how important it was that someone so closely associated with a man like that not be allowed to go wherever she wanted.
"I'm sticking around for a bit, too," Cor said. "I think I've still got more use here than I do in Val Royeaux, so..." He shrugged, one hand coming up to almost-absently rub at his chest, or rather the maroon tunic over it.
She wondered if that was really all there was to it, but Estella chose not to press. Wiser not to look a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak, and it was reassuring to know that at least the two of them would be sticking around. So much was sure to change, and with the group feeling like its bonds were starting to loosen and let some of them free, well. She'd hold onto whoever let her.
"Speaking of Orlesians, though, I think Julien was looking for you earlier. Not to chase you away, but you can see us anytime." He smiled faintly and nodded to where the man in question was standing against the wall just under the hole in the ceiling, speaking quite seriously about something to Rilien, it seemed.
"Guess I'd best see what that's about." Draining the last of her wine, she handed the cup back to Hissrad with her thanks and stood.
Rilien noticed her approach first; not unusual of him. He gave a small nod, the direction of his attention no doubt informing Julien of her presence as well. “You have recovered satisfactorily?" His own arm was still bandaged where it had been burned by the lyrium dragon's fire; she could see the edges of the gauze just peeking out from beneath the hem of his belled sleeve.
"I'm fine," she said honestly. She'd broken her shoulder and cracked three ribs, but of all that only a little tenderness remained. The Lord and Lady Inquisitors didn't really have to worry about lacking for care in terms of healing, and though the mages and alchemists had done their best to prioritize the severe wounds, she had Harellan, who wasn't exactly concerned with the same rules.
Julien gave her a warm smile, then looked pointedly up at the gap in the ceiling. "You know, I saw a Breach form here, and then close. With my own eyes. But it still seems like some dream I had, and not anything real." He took a quick swallow from the tankard in his hand. "Give me an incorrigible idiot or a diplomatic mess to handle or some assassin in need of skewering and I'm right as rain. This, though... this is very much your sort of thing." He tilted the mug in a gesture of toast. "In case you don't hear it often enough—and I daresay you won't—thank you for making everyone else's petty problems possible by saving us all."
Estella couldn't hold back the half-laugh that followed, shaking her head. "You're welcome. I think. Cor said you wanted to see me about something, though?"
He nodded slightly. "I heard about your escaped prisoner. Rilien supposes, and I agree, that she's more likely to flee west than east, which would put her in Orlais. The Crown would appreciate it if you could pass along any worthwhile information you have about her, in case she ends up our problem."
That made complete sense, of course. "Absolutely." A pause, and then: "Speak for The Crown now, do you? I always thought you were a bit too radical for that."
He bit back a grin and shrugged. "I'm not much for crowns in general, but I've a brain in my head. I can do a lot more good standing next to a man like him than I could ever accomplish trying to stand against him. We'll see how much of my agenda I can push, hm?"
"Best of luck, then." Estella had always found it to be a compelling agenda, after all.
"Thank you. If you happen to catch the Lord Inquisitor before I do, please extend Orlais's gratitude to him as well."
“I will see you tomorrow morning for training." Rilien, of course, could hardly be prevailed upon to give her two days off in a row, when she was in perfectly good shape to practice.
She was going to miss it when he wasn't there to keep her in line that way anymore, but by this point, daily work was a habit she'd have trouble breaking. No one could ever accuse him of being an ineffective teacher.
"I look forward to it."
Her tour of the room took her to the very front next, near where the thrones had once sat. There was another table there now, one that must have been moved from somewhere else. The Heralds' Rest, probably. Khari and Rom looked to be sharing the same spot on the bench, the former sitting in front of the Lord Inquisitor, back against his chest, gesturing expansively, probably in the middle of some story about either the last battle or some of those immediately before it. They both looked to be enjoying themselves, Rom possibly moreso than she'd ever seen him enjoy anything.
Estella took an empty stool near them, curious as to what Khari was talking about.
“—and of course you remember this next part. We're all standing there behind the gates, and Corypheus is all 'tremble before me' blah blah blah, and then this one—" She knocked her elbow back into Rom's arm with no force at all. “This one decides he's feeling like a smart-mouth heroic leader, and so he goes 'are we trembling, Inquisition?'"
She laughed. “And of course the answer is no, because who're we, right? Not afraid of any smelly son of a broodmother, obviously!" There was a chorus of agreement from the others at the table, and most everyone followed her example when she paused to quaff a bit more alcohol, already red in the face and grinning, the expression a tad less edged than her usual bloodthirsty one.
Thrusting one hand out at Estella, Khari lifted an eyebrow as if in challenge. “And then this one gives the Stel-est speech there ever was. Stellar? Has anyone ever made that pun in front of you?"
Estella rolled her eyes. "Maybe once or twice, but it's been a while, so thanks for that." Crossing one leg over the other, she waved a hand. "Anyway, don't mind me. What happened next?"
“Eh... the gates opened and there were a buncha demons and shit. Same as it always goes, on our end." She shrugged. “What everyone really wants to know is what happened after you guys disappeared." She widened her eyes dramatically at Estella, but then tilted her head back to look at Rom. “You gonna take over the story? I did a damn good found—foundy—start. I started it well. So you can finish it."
Rom chuckled at her drunkenness. He'd obviously had quite a bit himself, but drink didn't seem to make him much more talkative than usual. He was at least willing to finish her story, though. "We had a good fight, like we always did, me and Corypheus. Only this time I had Estella with me. She'd never had the pleasure of putting up with the ugly bastard's nonsense blabbering while he's trying to kill you." It was a disturbing habit, to be sure, a sign that he took far too much pleasure in the violence he caused, in the superiority it made him feel.
"He got us pretty good at first. At one point I was down and Estella," he shifted his eyes to her. "You broke our chairs. I was just starting to get used to that one, too."
"Technically Corypheus broke them," she replied with a broad smile. "With his face." Slightly inaccurate, but in the right spirit, at least.
He waved a hand dismissively. "It was a big target. We'd have ended up broken too, I'm sure, but then his dragon died, thanks to our friends down at the lake, and that stopped him cold. And then." He laughed a bit at himself, maybe for the attempt at being dramatic. "Estella reaches out with her mark, and rips that damn orb out of his hands, and blasts him with magic from it. Sent him clear across the room." He gestured with his hand to indicate the travel distance, start point to finish, and then his tone became more subdued.
"After that I just ran across the room, jumped on him, and..." He reached out with his marked hand, grasping at empty air, and made a soft noise imitating the explosion. A very clean way to describe something that had been extremely gruesome. He withdrew his hand, wrapping it around Khari's midsection instead while he took another drink from his cup.
"And then we picked ourselves up off the ground and closed the Breach," she finished with a short nod. "Destroyed the orb in the process, so that green scar in the sky's all that's left of it for good, now." She pointed upwards, drawing most of the eyes to the skyscar in question. It was right over their heads at this angle, after all.
She wondered how Harellan felt about the focus being lost. They weren't exactly common objects, after all. Perhaps something she'd have to ask him when they trained next.
“The Lord and Lady Inquisitor, everyone. How does Zee say it? Big damn heroes." Khari slid her arm over Rom's where he held her, humming in a way that sounded both contented and slightly sleepy. Given how late it was getting, that was hardly surprising.
Estella tapped the table and stood. "I'll see you all later. Maybe tell them the Tourney story again. I know I never get tired of that one." But Rom and Khari's obvious enjoyment of each other's company had reminded her of someone she had not yet seen tonight, and very much wanted to, so she spent the next few minutes searching for Ves.
It was a bit of a slow process; several people stopped her to offer thanks or congratulations, which she returned with as much warmth and appreciation as she could, even as she felt fatigue beginning to wear her down as well. Only after some number of these encounters that she honestly lost track of did she find him, standing rather quietly on the edges of the celebration, his back to one of the hall walls. If she had to take a guess, she'd say he was observing more than participating, something which was hardly like him.
When Estella reached his side, she tilted her head, letting a little of her confusion show through. "Hey," she said gently, "I kind of expected to find you holding court over half the room by now. Is everything all right?" She knew it wasn't, of course, not with recent events so fresh. But she meant to ask whether it was something other than the obvious, and she figured he'd understand.
"I thought I wouldn't hover over you for the night," he said, wrapping an arm around her as she drew close. "I just can't seem to make myself enjoy this. I know I should, but... I wish I could've held on to her a little longer. I wish she could've seen this." In terms of the timing, it was entirely possible Ves wouldn't have been able to make it through the battle, with Saraya causing him as much pain as she had. But the point still stood, and Saraya had passed on without being able to see them defeat Corypheus once and for all.
"Better not to linger on that, I suppose." He cleared his throat, possibly fighting the feeling of it choking up on him. "I've been thinking. You know I'm not leaving you, or the Inquisition, but I really ought to return home sometime. To Denerim. Thought I'd deliver my next update on my deeds to my parents in person." And they were remarkable deeds, for a city elf from the Alienage. "Think you can spare a few days, once everything is cleaned up here?"
Estella leaned easily into him, looping her near arm around his waist in turn. "Of course I can. Anytime you want, you know that." She turned her head to rest her brow at his shoulder. "There's a lot of stories to tell them, I expect." She looked forward to meeting them, too—getting to know the people who'd brought him into the world, even if just for a short visit. Part of her ached to know she'd never be able to do the same in reverse; never know what either of her parents would have made of what she'd become. But she'd take Harellan's word for it, and Ves already knew her family anyway.
"For what it's worth... I think she can see this. I really do." Estella couldn't claim to know what happened to people after they died, but... she believed she'd really talked to her father once. Surely it wasn't so outlandish to suppose that even now, their missing friend was watching over them, and knew what they'd just achieved.
"I think so too. I'm sure she's proud of the fact that, one more time, the Inquisition did the impossible."
The Anchors remained on hers and Rom's hands, much as they'd ever been, even though the artifact that had created them had been shattered when they'd used it to close the reopened Breach in the sky above the keep. The hole in the ceiling and the rest of the structural damage remained, of course; for the moment Leon was working out of Cyrus's atelier, perhaps because Cyrus himself was still here, in the infirmary.
There were enough casualties to overflow into the mages' tower, beds and cots pressed close enough that the healers could only just barely fit between them, never mind chairs for visitors. So she'd sat herself at the end of Cy's mattress, pulling her legs up underneath her and setting his feet on her lap rather than taking up any extra space. Harellan was nearby, she knew; he assisted with some of the healing, but his main concern seemed to be watching over Cyrus, and Astraia who was in the next bed over, though still unconscious.
"You still could have told me what the plan was," she said to her brother, reaching forward a bit to bring her fist down on his knee. There was no force to the 'blow;' it wasn't like she was actually upset with him, though admittedly his risk-taking scared her more than a little. Maybe that was why he'd kept it from her. Much as she didn't like to admit it, that might have been for the best. And they succeeded and survived in the end, so she just didn't have it in her to be mad. "My crazy, reckless brother the hero, huh?"
Cyrus had borne her teasing and gentle assault with the smallest of smiles, until she got to the hero part, where he shook his head immediately. “Crazy and reckless I can agree with, but don't go making me a hero." He glanced over at the sleeping elf across the narrow aisle, then down at his hands. “Astraia saved me, you know. At least twice, by my accounting. I want her to know that." There was something strange in the way he said it, like he was asking Estella to tell her, almost. But of course that didn't make any sense.
Harellan cleared his throat. "Many heroes were made yesterday. Yourself included, lethallan. I can say with great confidence that your parents would be incredibly proud to have the two of you as children. I am certainly proud to be your kin."
She might have asked Cy what he meant with a statement like that, but it just about slipped her mind with what her uncle said after. Coming from someone like Harellan, who knew what he knew and was who he was, having pride to be related to them, to her, was far from a platitude. Not when she considered just who else he could count among his kin.
The familiar urge to downplay things as Cyrus seemed to be doing rose in Estella like old instinct, but for once she pushed it down. Conquered it, and let herself feel just a little pride in herself as well. "Thank you." She hadn't done it alone, of course, but neither she nor he was claiming that, and so she let the words sit without the caveats and qualifications. "I'm proud of all of us."
Turning her eyes back to her brother for a moment, she tilted her head and rested a hand on his leg under the blanket. "Will you keep for a bit? There's a party—I thought I should probably put in an appearance. I'll bring you back some baklava?"
Cyrus was quiet a beat too long for the question, but smiled thinly. “I've survived worse, I think. Though your absence will wound me dearly. I expect dessert when next we meet." His tone was light, and he waved her off with a gesture.
Estella laughed, mindful enough of his condition not to shove him as she might normally have done. "I think that can be arranged. Until then, get some rest. I hear heroics are tiring." She'd argue with him over semantics until he accepted it, but perhaps that would be a discussion for later.
Shifting out from beneath his feet, she set them back down carefully and leaned down to give him a hug. He readily wrapped his arms around her, turning his face in towards her neck and curling his fingers into her shirt. “I love you, Stellulam." His words were just a whisper, a harsh one; his fingers trembled where they clenched.
"Love you, too, Cy." She rubbed his back gently, unable to keep things completely light. The victorious mood was infectious, but at the same time... she hadn't known until late yesterday evening that he'd even survived. The relief was overwhelming in its own way, something she was sure was getting to him as well. Once she'd hugged Harellan, she stepped back. "Let me know if Astraia wakes up, okay? I can bring her something, too." With a little wave, she made her way out of the infirmary and across the bailey, still churned up and darkly-stained from the battle the day before. The Venatori bodies had been burned that morning; she could still smell the last of the ashes.
Mounting the stairs to the keep, she pushed open the door and made her way into the main hall, noise and music already filtering out. She was just entering the long hallway in front of what had once been the dais when she bumped into someone. Instinctively reaching out, Estella steadied the person, only to find herself looking down at Zahra.
"Hello, you," she said, unable to keep herself from grinning. Clearly, the captain had already been at the business of having fun for a while. "Enjoying our victory, I take it?"
Zahra leaned against Stel for a moment before properly righting herself. She took a step backwards and swept her hands out wide, encompassing the hallway. Her eyes were lidded at half-mast but feverishly bright. She’d obviously pulled out all the stops for this particular occasion. Her dusky skin was already splotched with rouge, most noticeably along her exposed collarbone; where her shirt crept dangerously low, though she didn’t seem to notice. Or mind, given her proclivities.
“Hello to you too, lady-of-the-hour.” Her voice lowered into a taciturn whisper. As if she were telling a joke with no punchline. She set her mouth into a wide, toothy grin and straightened her shoulders, planting one of her hands on her hips. It seemed to anchor her in place, or else keep her from falling over. A thick eyebrow rose into her hairline. “Of course, this is the perfect time to empty the stores—the stores of booze. The special stuff. Y’know, the world-saving stuff.” She took a swaggering step to Stel’s side, and slung an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a rougher hug than the one she’d given Cyrus.
“I’m gonna miss you guys… you know that?”
Estella laughed, happy to be pulled into the captain's strong grip. "Well, you won't have to miss all of us, right?" Spotting Asala a little ways away, Estella gestured her over. "Word in the infirmary is the two of you will be sailing off into the sunset. Where do you think you'll be headed first?"
A blush was already seeping into her cheeks while she spoke, but Asala didn't seem affected by her own embarrassment. She probably learned how to deal with it by now. "I was hoping we could visit home again, for a little while at least," she said. "After that?" she said, pulling the inebriated Zahra off of Stel and closer to herself, dropping her arms over her shoulders and locking them above her chest in an embrace. "It's up to the Captain," she said with a beaming smile.
Estella huffed softly, tilting her head. That was a bit of a new development, as far as she knew, but apparently it had been a rather long time coming. Or so said the people who knew them especially well. It was certainly nice to see the confidence in Asala and the tenderness in the often-rougher Zee. Probably best not to encroach on their time, though. "No need to be strangers," she said. "You're always welcome to visit us anytime you like." With a small dip of her head, she took her leave, passing further into the hall.
Here the tables had been righted and repaired to the extent possible, several of them sporting rough blocks of wood for replacement legs. If she looked, she'd probably be able to spot the one she'd broken a rib on, when Corypheus had thrown her into it. But she wasn't particularly keen to know, and much preferred the use to which they were currently being put—holding food and drinks for the people who had worked hard and deserved them.
It was bittersweet, to think of how many would eventually be leaving. The advisors, who'd worked perhaps longest and hardest of all, each intended to leave: Marceline to retire to her lakefront property, Rilien to resume his work with Lucien, and Leon to take his place once more among the Seekers of Truth, though those goodbyes would be months out in Marcy's case and possibly as long as years for the other two. Less far away were Aurora and Sparrow's pending departures, to Val Royeaux and Kirkwall respectively, and she knew many of the other mages would scatter without their Captain to promise them safety and with the end of the Breach, which had once been blamed on them. Aurora and Sparrow were at one of the tables, but Aurora looked despondently into her cup, and Estella wasn't sure company would be welcome.
Sparrow seemed a little more sober; Estella waved to her a little when her feet carried her past.
"Stel!" A familiar voice drew her attention to the right. Cor raised a hand to wave at her, inviting her over to another table section, where he sat with Lia, Hissrad, and Donnelly. They seemed to have been there for a while as well, though none of them was in the habit of drinking quite as much as Zahra or Aurora seemed to have already.
Estella readily joined them, sighing a bit as she slid into an empty part of the bench. "Hey guys." She grabbed the freestanding bottle of something at the middle of the table, though there was a lack of empty cups. Hissrad noticed her dilemma and slid his over the table to her, untouched side forward. "Thanks." She poured herself a bit of the wine and took a swallow before turning her attention to the table itself. It looked like there'd been a card game in progress, one that had finished recently.
"Guess this'll be the last time we're all together for a while, won't it?"
Donnelly reached up to rub at the back of his neck. "Yeah. It's been great here, but... we're Lions, you know? I just feel like that's what I'm always gonna be, and right now, Val Royeaux's where I have to go."
She smiled a little sadly, and nodded once. Once, they'd all been the same in that: Argent Lions before anything else, bound by that bond of camaraderie and shared purpose. Part of her always would be—it was only because she'd been a Lion first that she was ever able to rise to the challenge of being an Inquisitor. But she'd taken so many steps toward that new thing that she couldn't retrace them anymore. The Inquisition was her home, in the way that the barracks had been before it.
"I'm gonna stay a little while longer." Lia set down her cup. Her cheeks were a little red, a sure indication that she'd be stopping soon. Estella was already with the Lions when she'd had her first drink, and in all that time she'd never gone overboard with it. "Much as I'd like to go back, I might still be needed here. With Leta escaping..." It was an unfortunate side effect of the damage done to the fortress during the battle. They'd simply found her gone when someone finally thought to look.
"I just want to make sure there's no trouble on your hands before I abandon you, you know?" She grinned.
Estella smiled. "I appreciate that, really." Leta's escape was a little more personal for Lia than the others, probably, given the woman's connection to Marcus and Marcus's to Amalia and Ithilian in turn. No doubt Lia understood better than most just how important it was that someone so closely associated with a man like that not be allowed to go wherever she wanted.
"I'm sticking around for a bit, too," Cor said. "I think I've still got more use here than I do in Val Royeaux, so..." He shrugged, one hand coming up to almost-absently rub at his chest, or rather the maroon tunic over it.
She wondered if that was really all there was to it, but Estella chose not to press. Wiser not to look a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak, and it was reassuring to know that at least the two of them would be sticking around. So much was sure to change, and with the group feeling like its bonds were starting to loosen and let some of them free, well. She'd hold onto whoever let her.
"Speaking of Orlesians, though, I think Julien was looking for you earlier. Not to chase you away, but you can see us anytime." He smiled faintly and nodded to where the man in question was standing against the wall just under the hole in the ceiling, speaking quite seriously about something to Rilien, it seemed.
"Guess I'd best see what that's about." Draining the last of her wine, she handed the cup back to Hissrad with her thanks and stood.
Rilien noticed her approach first; not unusual of him. He gave a small nod, the direction of his attention no doubt informing Julien of her presence as well. “You have recovered satisfactorily?" His own arm was still bandaged where it had been burned by the lyrium dragon's fire; she could see the edges of the gauze just peeking out from beneath the hem of his belled sleeve.
"I'm fine," she said honestly. She'd broken her shoulder and cracked three ribs, but of all that only a little tenderness remained. The Lord and Lady Inquisitors didn't really have to worry about lacking for care in terms of healing, and though the mages and alchemists had done their best to prioritize the severe wounds, she had Harellan, who wasn't exactly concerned with the same rules.
Julien gave her a warm smile, then looked pointedly up at the gap in the ceiling. "You know, I saw a Breach form here, and then close. With my own eyes. But it still seems like some dream I had, and not anything real." He took a quick swallow from the tankard in his hand. "Give me an incorrigible idiot or a diplomatic mess to handle or some assassin in need of skewering and I'm right as rain. This, though... this is very much your sort of thing." He tilted the mug in a gesture of toast. "In case you don't hear it often enough—and I daresay you won't—thank you for making everyone else's petty problems possible by saving us all."
Estella couldn't hold back the half-laugh that followed, shaking her head. "You're welcome. I think. Cor said you wanted to see me about something, though?"
He nodded slightly. "I heard about your escaped prisoner. Rilien supposes, and I agree, that she's more likely to flee west than east, which would put her in Orlais. The Crown would appreciate it if you could pass along any worthwhile information you have about her, in case she ends up our problem."
That made complete sense, of course. "Absolutely." A pause, and then: "Speak for The Crown now, do you? I always thought you were a bit too radical for that."
He bit back a grin and shrugged. "I'm not much for crowns in general, but I've a brain in my head. I can do a lot more good standing next to a man like him than I could ever accomplish trying to stand against him. We'll see how much of my agenda I can push, hm?"
"Best of luck, then." Estella had always found it to be a compelling agenda, after all.
"Thank you. If you happen to catch the Lord Inquisitor before I do, please extend Orlais's gratitude to him as well."
“I will see you tomorrow morning for training." Rilien, of course, could hardly be prevailed upon to give her two days off in a row, when she was in perfectly good shape to practice.
She was going to miss it when he wasn't there to keep her in line that way anymore, but by this point, daily work was a habit she'd have trouble breaking. No one could ever accuse him of being an ineffective teacher.
"I look forward to it."
Her tour of the room took her to the very front next, near where the thrones had once sat. There was another table there now, one that must have been moved from somewhere else. The Heralds' Rest, probably. Khari and Rom looked to be sharing the same spot on the bench, the former sitting in front of the Lord Inquisitor, back against his chest, gesturing expansively, probably in the middle of some story about either the last battle or some of those immediately before it. They both looked to be enjoying themselves, Rom possibly moreso than she'd ever seen him enjoy anything.
Estella took an empty stool near them, curious as to what Khari was talking about.
“—and of course you remember this next part. We're all standing there behind the gates, and Corypheus is all 'tremble before me' blah blah blah, and then this one—" She knocked her elbow back into Rom's arm with no force at all. “This one decides he's feeling like a smart-mouth heroic leader, and so he goes 'are we trembling, Inquisition?'"
She laughed. “And of course the answer is no, because who're we, right? Not afraid of any smelly son of a broodmother, obviously!" There was a chorus of agreement from the others at the table, and most everyone followed her example when she paused to quaff a bit more alcohol, already red in the face and grinning, the expression a tad less edged than her usual bloodthirsty one.
Thrusting one hand out at Estella, Khari lifted an eyebrow as if in challenge. “And then this one gives the Stel-est speech there ever was. Stellar? Has anyone ever made that pun in front of you?"
Estella rolled her eyes. "Maybe once or twice, but it's been a while, so thanks for that." Crossing one leg over the other, she waved a hand. "Anyway, don't mind me. What happened next?"
“Eh... the gates opened and there were a buncha demons and shit. Same as it always goes, on our end." She shrugged. “What everyone really wants to know is what happened after you guys disappeared." She widened her eyes dramatically at Estella, but then tilted her head back to look at Rom. “You gonna take over the story? I did a damn good found—foundy—start. I started it well. So you can finish it."
Rom chuckled at her drunkenness. He'd obviously had quite a bit himself, but drink didn't seem to make him much more talkative than usual. He was at least willing to finish her story, though. "We had a good fight, like we always did, me and Corypheus. Only this time I had Estella with me. She'd never had the pleasure of putting up with the ugly bastard's nonsense blabbering while he's trying to kill you." It was a disturbing habit, to be sure, a sign that he took far too much pleasure in the violence he caused, in the superiority it made him feel.
"He got us pretty good at first. At one point I was down and Estella," he shifted his eyes to her. "You broke our chairs. I was just starting to get used to that one, too."
"Technically Corypheus broke them," she replied with a broad smile. "With his face." Slightly inaccurate, but in the right spirit, at least.
He waved a hand dismissively. "It was a big target. We'd have ended up broken too, I'm sure, but then his dragon died, thanks to our friends down at the lake, and that stopped him cold. And then." He laughed a bit at himself, maybe for the attempt at being dramatic. "Estella reaches out with her mark, and rips that damn orb out of his hands, and blasts him with magic from it. Sent him clear across the room." He gestured with his hand to indicate the travel distance, start point to finish, and then his tone became more subdued.
"After that I just ran across the room, jumped on him, and..." He reached out with his marked hand, grasping at empty air, and made a soft noise imitating the explosion. A very clean way to describe something that had been extremely gruesome. He withdrew his hand, wrapping it around Khari's midsection instead while he took another drink from his cup.
"And then we picked ourselves up off the ground and closed the Breach," she finished with a short nod. "Destroyed the orb in the process, so that green scar in the sky's all that's left of it for good, now." She pointed upwards, drawing most of the eyes to the skyscar in question. It was right over their heads at this angle, after all.
She wondered how Harellan felt about the focus being lost. They weren't exactly common objects, after all. Perhaps something she'd have to ask him when they trained next.
“The Lord and Lady Inquisitor, everyone. How does Zee say it? Big damn heroes." Khari slid her arm over Rom's where he held her, humming in a way that sounded both contented and slightly sleepy. Given how late it was getting, that was hardly surprising.
Estella tapped the table and stood. "I'll see you all later. Maybe tell them the Tourney story again. I know I never get tired of that one." But Rom and Khari's obvious enjoyment of each other's company had reminded her of someone she had not yet seen tonight, and very much wanted to, so she spent the next few minutes searching for Ves.
It was a bit of a slow process; several people stopped her to offer thanks or congratulations, which she returned with as much warmth and appreciation as she could, even as she felt fatigue beginning to wear her down as well. Only after some number of these encounters that she honestly lost track of did she find him, standing rather quietly on the edges of the celebration, his back to one of the hall walls. If she had to take a guess, she'd say he was observing more than participating, something which was hardly like him.
When Estella reached his side, she tilted her head, letting a little of her confusion show through. "Hey," she said gently, "I kind of expected to find you holding court over half the room by now. Is everything all right?" She knew it wasn't, of course, not with recent events so fresh. But she meant to ask whether it was something other than the obvious, and she figured he'd understand.
"I thought I wouldn't hover over you for the night," he said, wrapping an arm around her as she drew close. "I just can't seem to make myself enjoy this. I know I should, but... I wish I could've held on to her a little longer. I wish she could've seen this." In terms of the timing, it was entirely possible Ves wouldn't have been able to make it through the battle, with Saraya causing him as much pain as she had. But the point still stood, and Saraya had passed on without being able to see them defeat Corypheus once and for all.
"Better not to linger on that, I suppose." He cleared his throat, possibly fighting the feeling of it choking up on him. "I've been thinking. You know I'm not leaving you, or the Inquisition, but I really ought to return home sometime. To Denerim. Thought I'd deliver my next update on my deeds to my parents in person." And they were remarkable deeds, for a city elf from the Alienage. "Think you can spare a few days, once everything is cleaned up here?"
Estella leaned easily into him, looping her near arm around his waist in turn. "Of course I can. Anytime you want, you know that." She turned her head to rest her brow at his shoulder. "There's a lot of stories to tell them, I expect." She looked forward to meeting them, too—getting to know the people who'd brought him into the world, even if just for a short visit. Part of her ached to know she'd never be able to do the same in reverse; never know what either of her parents would have made of what she'd become. But she'd take Harellan's word for it, and Ves already knew her family anyway.
"For what it's worth... I think she can see this. I really do." Estella couldn't claim to know what happened to people after they died, but... she believed she'd really talked to her father once. Surely it wasn't so outlandish to suppose that even now, their missing friend was watching over them, and knew what they'd just achieved.
"I think so too. I'm sure she's proud of the fact that, one more time, the Inquisition did the impossible."