Chapter Text
It was funny, if a little frustrating, that no matter how tired she was, Leonora could never get to sleep easily. The sun would drop, the moon would rise, the tavern would spill its vocal contents into the courtyard and they would drift away, silence overtaking the ancient fort once more, and she would remain lying in her bed, staring up at the ceiling and waiting for the fade to arrive. It would eventually, but never as quickly as she wanted.
The problem, she supposed, was that she needed the calm of mental stimulation. She was always physically exhausted, either from combat training, or from actual combat, but when she was home in Skyhold (and it did feel like home), her mind was on fire with the demands of state, the pressures of war, and the minutiae of a court life she’d once thought she’d escaped. Most would think that enough to mentally exhaust someone, but instead her racing mind kept her awake. She needed something to focus on that would calm her mind.
Not for the first time, she missed life in the circle. The library had been well-stocked – not extensive, but enjoyable – and with the markets in Ostwick City she had had a near-endless source of stories to keep her mind active and her imagination running. Skyhold had a library, but it was all reference books, and there was only so much she could hear about Tevinter cruelty or Elven magnificence before her head started to hurt. It was all too real, now. Where were the heroes of old? Where did the gallant knights go? Where was the romance? Where were the happy endings? As she lay on the bed and stared up at the owl statue above her, she made a decision. If she was to lie awake every night she may as well enjoy it. She needed books. Varric would be a good start.
She sighed sleepily, rolling over and dragging the blankets around her as the cold mountain air caressed her face like ghostly fingers. At least she was comfortable.
Cullen sat at his desk, head pounding. He knew he should be sleeping, for his health if for nothing else, but sleep was a hazard. It had been for years, but at least when he was a Templar the lyrium had dulled them. Now he was stripped of his armour and weapons and forced to battle naked and afraid. But he had always been stronger than he seemed and he knew how to fight this battle. Pushing himself to exhaustion meant dreamless sleep. It also meant crushing headaches, but elfroot would help with those. Besides, with nightmares he was barely sleeping anyway, so what difference would staying awake make?
He thumbed through the reports on his desk, and began to sort them by importance, later to be sorted by the time it would take to complete each task. He liked the near-mindless work of organisation. A focus that required little concentration but enough brainpower to keep him awake. An ideal job for a man with a constant headache. In fact, the Inquisition itself was ideal for him. He had a purpose again, one that encouraged him to forge on even when the past sometimes felt like it was about to overtake him. Even the setting, Skyhold, felt good. Almost like home.
The candles on his desk sputtered as cold air gusted down from the hole in his bedroom ceiling. He closed his eyes and let the icy hands of the mountains brush across his face and over his hair. Even with the headache, it was comfortable.
After a half-day of meetings, discussions, conferences, and appointments, Leonora was free to chase books. Having already read the library’s sole remaining copy of Hard in Hightown, Varric’s only other suggestion was the Tale of the Champion. Leo had read it a few years prior, but Varric insisted on giving her her own copy, signed by him. This created its own problems. As a signed first edition she couldn’t very well open it and get creases in the spine. That would ruin it. She needed books that weren’t so precious they couldn’t be read.
Dorian had a few recommendations from the shelves of the library he practically lived in, but he insisted that the best person to speak to would be Cassandra. That was unexpected. Leo hadn’t picked Cassandra for a reader. Maybe reports, definitely the Chant of Light, she could even see her reading treatises on combat techniques, but novels? She shrugged. Might as well try. It wasn’t as though Cassandra would be angry for asking about books.
Cassandra was furious. “Dorian put you up to this, didn’t he? That damnable Tevinter, always sticking his nose in everything. What business is it of his if I like to read? Is there something wrong with that? Why am I to be mocked for this?”
Leo took a step back as Cassandra gestured violently at the mage as he crossed the compound. Not for the first time she was glad Cass used a practice sword while in Skyhold. “Cassandra, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just looking for books to read.”
“Yes Seeker,” Dorian called airily, “she just wants something to stimulate her. I thought you might be able to recommend something to help her ease her tension. She needs something to do with all her spare time in that big, lonely suite of hers. The night can be so long, don’t you think?”
Cassandra made a disgusted noise, then grabbed a hay bale and threw it at him. Dorian waved it off with a flick of the wrist. Her wooden shield went flying, then bounced just as harmlessly as the hay had. The buckles holding his shoulder piece started to clink as he laughed and Cassandra stormed into the smithy, slamming the door.
Okay then, obviously she was missing something here. Someone else, then. Maybe the merchants would have something. She started back across the courtyard.
The merchants, unsurprisingly for a military group, specialised in weapons and armour, and had no books. Blackwall apparently wasn’t much of a reader. Dennet, Eustace, and Cabot all mentioned Hard in Hightown as the only book they’d read, and couldn’t think of anything else. Sera suggested the arcane library below Skyhold but Leo had already explored that and came up with nothing but history books and magical formulae. Cole’s advice was beautiful but unhelpful:
The wood in the walls was once a forest, sagas unfurling within like tendrils of ferns and flowers. Tales as small as acorns that grow tall and spread like branches, each touching each until all are one.
Why don’t you ask them for stories?
Unable to ask the walls for their stories, Leo thanked him and moved on.
She knew she was getting desperate when she hit up the Chargers. Especially considering they’d been drinking since midday.
“Hair of the dog, boss.” Iron Bull insisted. “It’s medicinal.” Stitches nodded in agreement and Leo laughed. At this point, a drink sounded good. It was, after all, the Herald’s Rest. As the Herald it was her duty to rest there. She ordered a pint and winked at Cabot who grunted in return. The bartender, with his dry sense of humour and total lack of respect for her position, was one of the best things about the tavern. He made her feel normal, like she was at a regular bar, with people who didn’t think she was the living sword arm of their saviour. The best escape when a book couldn’t be found. She perched on the back of a seat next to Krem and banged their cups together.
“So, Inquisitor, what brings you here?” Krem’s easy way of chatting was also relaxing.
“Books, actually.”
Krem raised an eyebrow. “Not gunna find many in here. Half the people in this room probably can’t even read.”
“Huh. That’s… a bloody good point actually.”
“If you find any, let me know. We haven’t had many missions lately so I’ve had a lot of time to kill. Being stuck listening to Chief’s bitching all day gets pretty fucking boring, and there’s only so many stuffed nugs I can make.”
“Tried Hard in Hightown? I’ve still got my library copy you can borrow.”
“Yep. And if one more bloody person tells me to read that book I’ll throw my bottle at them.”
Leo snorted. “I know the feeling.”
“HEY BOSS” Iron Bull bellowed, his voice echoing through the tavern like a dragon’s roar. “YOU REALLY WANNA RELAX I GOT A COUPLA IDEAS WE CAN TRY. YOU GOTTA FIND ME TWELVE FOOT OF LIGHT ROPE AND A SADDLE THOUGH.”
The beer in Leo’s mouth burned as it left through her nose, then again as she breathed it back in. Krem’s strong hands began to pound her back as she doubled over, and his thumping intensified as her gasps turned to laughter and the tears streamed down her face, too out of breath to say she wasn’t choking anymore. Eventually she managed to catch her breath, slumping into the mercenary’s side as the giggles slowly subsided. Krem glared at Iron Bull.
“Good one, Chief. Kill the Inquisitor before she gets the bad guy.”
“That would be a terrible breach of Inquisition rules, Iron Bull.” Josephine’s clipped voice belied the smile on her face.
Leo straightened up. She knew that Josephine didn’t mind how casual she was with the inhabitants of Skyhold – Leliana and Cullen had argued strongly that it helped their cause by making her more relatable – but she did feel a sense of duty to her ambassador. The woman had left home and family – things she valued far more than Leonora did – to be the Inquisition’s diplomatic advisor. Reserved, elegant, and composed, she was everything that Leo was not, and yet Leonora could not fault her for her personality was as lovely as her face. Leo wanted Josephine to know how seriously she took her position, even if it seemed at times that she didn’t take it seriously at all.
But the Lady Ambassador’s smile was genuine. The sight of Leo crying with laughter with some of the Inquisition’s most loved members was hardly something to be bothered about. The death of the Inquisitor, more so. She raised her eyebrow at the giant Qunari.
“Iron Bull. We do desire to keep our lovely Inquisitor as alive as possible. It is, after all, only she who can save us. Besides, I must speak with her in a moment and conversations with the dearly departed can be incredibly dull.” She turned to Leo “Inquisitor, if I may have a moment of your time? If it is not too much trouble.”
Leo bounced off the chair and passed her half-full cup to Krem. “Hold this. If I’m not back in five minutes, just wait longer.”
Krem downed the drink in seconds, then winked at Leo. “I’ll owe you one.”
“Bastard.”
--
Outside the tavern, the courtyard was still busy. Merchants were closing up shop and soldiers were tossing practice dummies into a pile by the walls and swords and shields into crates.
“Lady Trevelyan– ”
“Jose, come on,” Leo groaned.
“Sorry - Leonora. I hear you’re looking for novels.” The ambassador looked sideways at Leo, her eyebrow still raised.
“I am. How did you know? Do you have something I can read? I didn’t peg you for a reader.”
“In fact, I love to read. It’s so romantic. I love the old stories of knights and queens and dragons. At least, I used to. These days it seems a little too close to home. In any case, my books are all at home in Antiva, so I unfortunately do not have anything I can lend to you, I am sorry.”
“It’s alright. It’s probably a bit much to expect to have novels out here anyway. They’re not exactly a high priority are they.”
“I disagree. As Leliana and Cullen have pointed out to me, people must be able to relax if they are to continue to have hope. Nobody fights for a cause they feel they have given their all to but which has given them nothing in return. If we wish for people to fight for us and our cause, we must win their hearts and minds. This is best done with small things. Things such as books. To that end, I have decided to populate our libraries with books for pleasure as much as research. My family have trade connections with some booksellers in Val Royeaux, and Varric–“
“I knew it was Varric who told you!”
“Actually it was Warden Blackwall, but that is beside the point. Varric has connections in Kirkwall and Orzammar. Dorian has also offered contacts in Tevinter, although I shudder to think of the content of Tevinter novels. Cullen has also suggested we search Kinloch Hold for books left behind during the uprising. Between us we shall create a library for the people.”
Leo thought about it for a while. It was a wonderful idea, but there was one major flaw.
“Krem made a good point earlier. Half the people here probably can’t read. Is there much point in a library hardly anyone will use?”
“Lad- Leonora. How many people told you today that they had read Varric’s novel? Reading is not as uncommon a skill as you may think. In any case, both Varric and Clemence have offered to teach people to read, as have a number of scouts and messengers when they have days off.”
The idea was astonishing. That so many people were willing to go to such lengths, not because she was the Inquisitor and wanted it, but simply because it would bring happiness to people. What else was there to say?
“Lets do this.”