Chapter Text
Haven was bloody cold.
He had dressed for winter, and yet the cold was finding a way to seep into his bones. He could usually handle the weather, if he was fighting or travelling, keeping his blood pumping. But he had been stood outside of the Haven Chantry for what had felt like an age, having arrived on horseback a little past dawn, trying to find someone of authority to speak to. But he had either been brushed off or straight up ignored.
Perhaps they had assumed he was there to make trouble; couldn’t be too careful when you were part of an organisation that some considered heretical.
Either that or the entire Inquisition were not morning people.
“Are you alright, soldier?”
He turned to see an elven woman behind him, dressed in the traditional furs and leathers of a Dalish hunter, with vallaslin on her face to confirm his assumption. Her grey eyes met his, and even in the low light of morning, he was struck by how they shone like silver.
Her eyebrows rose a little, as though hinting that she was waiting on a response, and he realised that he had been staring for beat of a moment too long.
“Oh I-” he cleared his throat, straightening up his posture, remembering why he was here, “I’ve been trying to find someone to speak to. My name is Lieutenant Cremisius Aclassi, I represent a mercenary company looking to aid the Inquisition.”
A soft smile passed over her face, “I believe most of the leadership is in a meeting presently, but I’d be happy to pass on a message if you can give me the details.”
He began to explain about the Chargers, answering her questions about their credentials, Bull’s leadership style, even their cost, relaxing the more he went on. Selling the Chargers was second nature, their work spoke for itself, and she asked the right questions of a prospective client. She wrote down no details, but he had no doubt in his mind that she would remember everything he said. She listened with rapt attention, grey eyes watching him intently as he spoke.
She was a beautiful young woman, her elven figure shorter than his own, muscles clearly toned from use of the bow she carried, but a subtle femininity to her that softened her edges, her dark hair long and braided off of her face, a few wildflowers twisted into it. He noticed a few scars scattered across her skin, some older, some much fresher; signs of more recent battle wounds. Whatever her role was within the Inquisition, she was clearly no stranger to a fight.
Once he had finished his pitch, she nodded him towards the centre of the village where people had begun to queue up for breakfast, “It seems you’ve had a long journey, lieutenant. Take a rest by the fire, get something to eat. I’ll pass along a message to those in charge and come find you once they have reached a decision.”
“Thank you. What about you?”
“What about me?” her eyebrows raised a little.
He glanced towards the porridge that was now being ladled out to those waiting and back to her, “Won’t you miss breakfast if you await their outcome?”
She let out a soft breath, a look of surprise in her expression, “I’ve already eaten, I’ve not quite acclimatised to human cooking as yet. But you’re very sweet to worry.”
He laughed a little at that, mostly to cover the warmth in his cheeks as she called him sweet, “Very well then.”
“I’ll be back soon.”
He watched her go as she headed back inside the Chantry, an odd stirring settling into his chest. He shook his head to himself and turned to go find some food, now was not the time to be thinking with anything other than his stomach or his head.
~*~*~
It was a short while later that she returned, finding him having finished his breakfast and wandered further into the village to investigate more about the Inquisition that he had found himself determined to work for. He had heard about the work they were doing, knew in his heart that the Chargers could be of assistance, and seeing it in person only strengthened his resolve.
“Lieutenant!” she called to him, joining him where he was watching some of the soldiers training, “How was breakfast?”
“Not the worst porridge I’ve eaten by a long shot,” he admitted, “But it’s a far cry from a Dalish recipe.”
“You know Dalish cooking?”
“A member of our company was born into a Dalish clan, she’s made us a few things she remembers from her childhood when it’s her turn to cook.”
“Your group truly is full of surprises,” she said with a smile before she straightened up her form a little, as though remembering why she was actually there, “The Herald apologises for not coming to meet you in person, but she said she would be happy to meet your group. Business will take her to the Storm Coast in the next few days.”
He nodded, “That’s good to hear.”
“Will you be staying to travel there with the Herald?”
“I should be heading back as soon as possible, let the Chief know to expect the Herald, make sure he hasn’t gotten himself into too much trouble whilst I’ve been gone.”
“That’s understandable, though the Herald asked me to let you know that if you require any supplies to ensure that you had them.”
“A most generous offer, though I think I’ll be okay. I brought plenty of provisions for the return trip.”
“Well, there is one thing for you to take with you. See to your horse and I’ll find you before you go.”
They parted once again, and true to her word, she returned as he was leading his mount from the stable, who had been fed and watered without want for any gold in exchange. The horsemaster had simply told him that the Inquisition looked after their own.
“Here,” she said, handing a bundle out to him, “For the road.”
He took it from her, feeling the warmth of the contents through the linen wrapping. He pulled on the string holding it together, the sweet smell wafting from within. Inside were half a dozen sweet buns, covered with a sticky glaze.
“Honey cakes,” she clarified, “They just finished cooking.”
“They smell incredible. What’s in these?”
“Well, the trick is-” she met his eyes, a grin spreading across her face, “If things work out between your boss and the Herald, I’ll tell you the secret ingredient when you come back to Haven.”
He gave a nod and a soft laugh, “I’ll hold you to that.”
“I wish you safe travels, Lieutenant.”
“Thank you, for everything… my apologies, I never got your name.”
“No, you didn’t. Something else I’ll tell you when you come back to Haven.”
He chuckled, “Very well.” He took her gloved hand, and her form stiffened for a brief moment before he brushed a kiss against the leather on the back on her hand, “Until we meet again.”
He noted the flush in her cheeks before she returned his warm smile, “Until we meet again.”