Chapter Text
If one asked about the troops of the Inquisition, they would reveal Inquisitor Islington Trevelyan was a polite and amicable man. He cared plenty for his people, working well with his advisors and his Inner Circle. He did what was necessary, making tough decisions throughout the day. His people had seen him come back from the dead, soon after Haven was attacked; to them the Inquisitor was infallible.
Inquisitor Trevelyan was an odd looking man. He had shockingly white hair that he kept combed and neat. Yet he was no albino. His skin was darkly tanned, a trait shared by his branch of his family. His irises were an odd yellow, something that only he possessed in his family. A trait that his family had passed off as him having magic when he showed the aptitude for it.
The man was constantly seen running about Skyhold in between missions, talking to various people regardless of their station. Other than being a mage and having an anchor, he seemed to hold some sort of magic about his personality. How he asked and kept track of the various tales some of the soldiers told him, the occasional question if their loved ones had sent letters. The Inquisition’s cause may have won people to it, but it was the Inquisitor himself who won the hearts of many with his slight personal touch.
There was no magic for that information, just hard work. He met with his Inner Circle frequently, discussing their next move and in between, their people.
“You know, it’s rather heart-warming to see the Inquisitor try and get to know others during his free time. I think he took my advice to heart,” Varric said with a chuckle as he sat at the tavern drinking.
“And what advice would that be?” came the smooth but proud reply. The Tevinter smiled as his friend praised his lover. He was a proud man but it was a different sort of pride that came when he thought about Islington. The man had chosen him of all people; not that it was unexpected. Dorian knew how handsome he was, but it was still a surprise when Islington had insisted on a proper relationship.
“Remember that game of Wicked Grace where Curly lost his clothes? I’m glad he joined us. Sometimes its too easy to see him as a symbol, like Andraste and her bowl. It’s nice to get reminders that he’s still very much a person and I think it’s good that the others see that side of him; not just some sort of figure whose comparable to the legends of old.”
Dorian barked a laugh at the memory. That had been a delightful evening, in many ways. There was the lovely company but it was a treat for his eyes as well as he recalled Cullen trying to escape with what little dignity he had left. “Quite right Varric. Although as you’ve said before, the amount of shit that he manages to survive does make his tale quite unbelievable.”
“One day I’m going to write a story about this,” the dwarf said as he took a swing from his mug.
“Ha, let’s not get ahead of ourselves before Corypheus is dead. Come on Varric, it’s nearly time for us to meet with Josephine for that very important meeting she wants all of us to attend,” Dorian said with a sigh.
Josephine waited eagerly for them at the war room. The rest of the Inner Circle and Cullen had gathered. She clasped her hands together in delight. “Wonderful, now that everyone is here we can begin.”
“Now wait a minute, the boss’ not here,” Iron Bull spoke as he took a good look around.
“Indeed, of all the people I would expect not to be around, the Inquisitor is the last,” Solas said as he folded his arms.
“Quite indeed,” Leliana said as she stepped into the room closing the door as she gave all those who were gathered a smile. Needless to say, several of the Inner Circle looked uncomfortable.
“It’s all right she’s not planning...,” Cole began but Leliana shook her head at him.
“Before we begin speculating as to the reason, let me reassure you that what I am to share is for once, good news, and that this information is not to leave the room. The Inquisitor is not to hear a word about it. Scout Harding has been briefed and she’s keeping the Inquisitor busy while we speak in private.”
A round of affirmations came from those gathered as the atmosphere became a lot more relaxed. While good news came often as the Inquisition expanded, it was not without its share of bad news and the Spymaster’s words were received with some measure of relief..
Sera leaned in curiously. “Well out with it already, what sort of news is it that Issy-prissy isn’t supposed to hear?
The ambassador took a deep breath, shaking her head at the nickname the Inquisitor had been stuck with and smiled at them. “With the Inquisitor’s birthday coming up next week, Lelianna and I were hoping that those of the Inner Circle could throw a surprise birthday party for him.”
The resulting cacophony was expected. Some burst out into laughter but questions flew about the room as each member turned the idea over in their heads.
“It's his birthday? That dog he never said a thing about it!”
“How old is he?”
There was a fair bit of silence as they tried to piece what information they knew.
“Well his white hair doesn't exactly do him any favours in looking young. He looks young enough to be in his early thirties but if I had to bet, I’d say late thirties from his maturity,” Varric said as his voice broke the silence.
There was a slight flipping of pages as Josephine glanced through her notes and smiled as she spoke, “And I’ll gladly take that bet Master Tethras. According to my notes, Islington Trevelyan was born in 9:13 Dragon that would make him twenty-seven after some quick calculation.”
Solas quietly he mused, one finger on his chin as he thought about it. “That is quite a weight our Inquisitor has on his shoulders for someone his age. Although he has more than measured up to his role.”
There was some murmur of agreement and somewhere in the back, Varric tossed a silver coin over to Josephine who caught it.
“Hey, hey we’re here to plan a party for Issy, not count how old he is. Parties are supposed to be fun! We can have games like mud wrestling, pin the cock on the do-”
Vivienne cleared her throat to interrupt Sera before the girl could continue.
“My dear, our Inquisitor is of noble blood. I doubt he would play such… uncouth games. A nice dinner with some canapes would be pleasurable and more suitable for a man of his station.”
The elf growled at the mage, but Blackwall settled an arm on her shoulder, squeezing it gently.
“Sera, this is about Islington’s party. Although I would certainly like to know more about those games you were talking about,” the warden said chuckling. The brief action calmed down the feisty elf, and the room breathed a sigh of relief.
“Perhaps we should consider what Islington is fond of before we make any more plans,” Cassandra said as she thought about it. “I know he likes things which are black and white, and cats.” There was a longer pause as she thought about it.
Each of them pondered quietly about what they knew about the inquisitor. One by one they offered what they knew and Josephine diligently scribbled it down. By the end of the hour they had a list.
“Hmm… from what we have here, it would seem that the best would be just a nice dinner with all of us and perhaps a game or two of Wicked Grace. We definitely need some whiskey about. And those lovely little cakes! This would be wonderful to plan!” The Antivian did a little excited twirl where she was. “Thank you all for coming. There will be a gift presentation of course.”
With a few more conversations exchanged among the Inquisition's Inner Circle, one by one they went back to their own rooms deep in thought. Leliana glanced out the windows of the war room looking at the lights in a tower. “I wonder how the Inquisitor’s dancing lessons with Harding are going,” she said with a chuckle.