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Life at Skyhold had fallen into stagnation, the lack of chaos left an eerie calm that Ryiah knew she shouldn’t get accustomed to. She smirked as she caught the commander sneaking another glance her way. She’d purposefully left her hair free as the wavy ends were tousled by the wind; Cullen had said he liked her hair, reminded him of a red lion’s mane. Creators, it truly made writing her letter back to the Keeper difficult though.
“Daniels!” Oh, how her spine tingled as he yelled at one of his subordinates. “Keep up your guard! The enemy isn’t going to invite you to tea before killing you!” Cullen was so soft spoken when it came to more intimate moments between them that she enjoyed the occasions when he was forceful. A soft blush filling her cheeks as she remembered the kiss upon the battlements. She would bring it out of him again.
“Inquisitor,” Ryiah pulled her eyes from Cullen and focused them on Josephine. A knowing smile on the Antivan’s face. “Sorry to disturb you, but it seems we have more mages seeking sanctuary here.“
“You may allow them in.”
“Right, I must commend your insight into adding more quarters for the mages.”
She shook her head. Formality was so big among shems, it made friendships harder to attain. Things were simpler among her clan. “Thank you Josephine, but Dorian suggested it.”
“I had not realized- but that is no matter. I shall see that they are welcomed in.”
Ryiah went back to writing her letter and watching Cullen that she did not notice the downtrodden handful of mages dragged themselves toward the tavern. At least not at first. She’d tilted her head down to make sure her ink hadn’t smudged, her hair obscuring her vision, when the shrill yell made her jump.
“Cullen!!” The female mage took the remaining steps two at a time, her robes tattered and smudged. Despite her dirt-caked cheeks and knotted black hair, she was beautiful. She stopped short of the Inquisition’s commander and stared up at him hesitantly. “Cullen Stanton Rutherford, is that really you?”
“Solona Amell?” His back was turned to Ryiah, but she could hear the amazement in his voice. “Is it really you?” The human woman nodded emphatically, her smile bright. “I-I thought you’d died!” When they embraced, the elf felt a pang in her chest she was unfamiliar with. Hurt? Jealousy? She didn’t care. All she was concerned with was that this woman was encroaching where she did not belong.
Setting her parchment aside, safely anchored down by the inkwell, she jumped from the ledge and made her way toward the pair. Her appearance was almost as disheveled with her Dalish robes askew, feet covered in dirt, and her hair rather untamed. But she had the air of confidence while the look on the shem’s face was flabbergasted when she announced, “Cullen, it’s not fair that you don’t introduce me.”
He pulled back with a blush, most likely reading the fire in her bright eyes. “Ryiah, this is Amell, she was a mage at Fereldan’s Circle.”
“You mean when you were still a templar?”
“You’re not a templar anymore?” Amell turned her lovely green eyes back to Cullen. Her glance was hopeful as she blinked those thick lashes at him.
Ryiah grit her teeth together.
Cullen opened his mouth to answer, but she cut him off. “Yes, in fact he’s the commander of the Inquisition’s entire forces.”
“Who are you again?”
“Oh forgive me,” she answered with a vindictive grin, “I’m Ryiah of Clan Lavellan. Although people tend to know me by my title better. I’m the Inquisitor.” She noticed the woman bristle at the title. “Welcome to Skyhold.”
“Thank you, your worship.” Her eyes narrowed into a cattish glare as Ryiah placed one of her hands on Cullen’s pauldrons, clearly displeased. “I should go and settle in with the others. We can talk later Cullen.”
The aforementioned seemed incredibly flustered, but muttered a, “Certainly.” Ryiah was thinking curses of the Creators upon the woman, and her ridiculous swaying hips, when a chuckle made her look up into laughing amber eyes. “You look ready to pounce.”
“Thinking about it.”
“I used to dream of having her attentions,” Ryiah could feel her heart fall at his words; she knew she was not his first, but she would have liked to pretend she was. “She doesn’t anymore. Ten years makes a difference, neither of us are the same anymore. Besides, I’m comfortable with where I’m at now.” With this statement, he took her in his arms, ignoring all the pairs of eyes watching them.
“Truly?”
His chuckle made her blush as he tilted her chin up. “Most certainly, my little lioness. I’m prepared to be obstinate in this.” That kiss made her lips tingle the rest of the day, and made the scathing glares from Amell worth it.