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9:42 Dragon, Skyhold, Frostback Mountains, Ferelden/Orlesian border, Thedas
Leliana’s announcement that Morrigan’s departure from Skyhold was imminent came as a soft whisper in Maxwell Trevelyan’s ear. The Great Hall was bursting with celebration at the defeat of Corypheus and it was as he stood engaged in idle chit chat with the one of the Orlesian supporters of the Inquisition that he felt a sudden yet not completely unexpected pressure up against his back. Almost from the very beginning, since he’d walked out of the destroyed Temple of Ashes, she’d promised to have his back in any way she could. He hadn’t considered she might mean that literally, but there she was, her back to his, always on watch, always on the watch for danger or intrigue.
It struck him then, in that breath of a moment between noticing her presence, her whispered words in his ear, and then a just as quick departure just how much he would miss her when she left for Val Royeaux.
But that was a worry for later. For now, he simply nodded, a slight smile curving his lips at Lady Felicity as if in response to something she had said. A skill he’d learned from older brothers and sisters back in Ostwick, one that he’d never thought he’d need but had, ironically, been one of the most important he’d relied on over the past year. Gaining support for the Inquisition hadn’t been easy, but with only a bit of gentle prodding from Josephine, he’d fallen back into the old habits he’d tried so hard to forget after leaving home.
But even as the woman continued, Maxwell’s thoughts drifted to Morrigan. Her departure came as no surprise. If he was honest, he’d expected it days ago, certainly before Skyhold was packed with some of the most elite in all of Thedas wanting to rub elbows with those who had defeated The Elder One.
But perhaps she’d been waiting for the fallout of the battle to settle. To see if Flemeth would take advantage of their success and come for her and her son at Skyhold despite the might of the Inquisition. On the other hand, he considered, maybe she’d been practical enough to see to her own needs for once. Though she tried to hide it from the rest, her injuries from Corypheus’ dragon had been quite substantial. He’d half thought to ask her to stay on until she was fully healed before she and Kieran left for whatever chase they would inevitably be drawn into next, but in the end had held his tongue. If he’d read Flemeth correctly during their brief encounter, the inevitable fight to come next for Morrigan would be much worse.
Then again, it could be something as simple as deciding to stay so that Kieran might have a chance to visit the friends he had made here one last time. And dare he suggest it, herself as well.
He could almost hear her scoffing huff in the back of his mind, and it tugged his lips to an even deeper smile. Truth be told, as prickly as she could be at times, he was going to miss her.
He was startled from his musings when soft, yet strong fingers threaded with his own from behind and the warm humor of his lover’s voice next tickled his ear. “You look distracted, amatus,” Dorian murmured. “Have I been paying so little attention to you this evening? Or are you that desperate for rescue from her ladyship?”
Without waiting for a response, Dorian shifted around to Maxwell’s side, their hands still linked and in open view as he took up conversation with Lady Felicity while Maxwell struggled against the heat now staining his cheeks. He and Dorian had agreed long ago in their relationship that they would not hide it from others. After the debacle with Revered Mother Giselle and then Dorian’s father, an awkward misunderstanding between them, and with the impending final battle with Corypheus looming, they’d finally come to an agreement. They wanted to be together; why hide it from the world?
But be that as it may, he still occasionally could not hide his reaction whenever Dorian decided to put it on display. He wasn’t against it – never that – but he was still getting used to the fact he had finally, unexpectedly, found the love of his life.
Now, as Dorian regaled Lady Felicity with tales of that final battle, Maxwell ducked his head and attempted to regain his composure. His gaze traveled around the room, spotting their friends and companions also engaged in conversation and generally having a good time. That brought a smile to his face and helped the heat to fade.
He was just turning back and about to re-engage in the conversation when he caught a fleeting look of disapproval from Revered Mother Giselle. Though she had apologized for “any misunderstanding” after their last discussion of his relationship with “that mage from Tevinter,” Maxwell had avoided her as much as possible. It seemed, however, that her feelings had not changed one whit since, and he couldn’t stop a heavy sigh, one just loud enough for Dorian to catch and return his reassurance with a tight squeeze of his hand.
Calculating just how rude it would be to remove himself and Dorian from the conversation and sneak off some place quiet and alone, Maxwell next found Leliana. After leaving him, she had apparently been pulled into conversation with Cullen and Lace Harding. But even as she continued talking, she tipped her head slightly in the direction of the Revered Mother while lifting a brow in question.
Maxwell’s breath caught. How she was able to figure things out as she did continued to amaze him and her silent question now was...unexpected. But there was a flipside to this coin as well. In just a few days, she would be leaving for Val Royeaux to take up the robes of the Divine.
The Divine.
Without breaking eye contact with her, he silently contemplated her offer, and in doing so the heavy truth of the situation hit him.
Corypheus was dead.
A Divine had been chosen.
Hope blossomed in his chest, unexpected, unsolicited. In the grand scheme of things, Revered Mother Giselle and her opinions did not bother him in the least. However, if she were to leave and he would no longer have to actively avoid her, that would be the greatest gift indeed.
Turning his attention back to Lady Felicity – who was clearly enjoying Dorian’s attention in that moment – Maxwell gently extricated his hand from his lover’s and excused himself. “My apologies, my lady,” he told her sincerely, “but I am being hailed by the Divine herself. If you will excuse me.”
He left before any protest could be made. Along the way, he collected two glasses of wine from one of the servers making the rounds around the Great Hall and upon arriving beside Leliana, now alone, handed one to her. “I thought we were done with all the intrigue now that Corypheus is gone,” he murmured, a laugh wrapping around his words.
Leliana’s laugh was light, but a smug grin spread across her face as she looked up at him. “If only one Orlesian is present in a room, Inquisitor, then there will always be intrigue.”
“But you are Orlesian, are you not?”
She dipped her head in acknowledgement. “And I am here.”
For just a moment, he was able to hold back a laugh, but when she winked at him, he lost all hope at holding it in and it broke free. After several moments, he raised his glass, clinked it against hers, and mused, “Whatever am I going to do without you around, I wonder.”
As always, she had a ready answer. “I’m quite sure Charter will keep you on your toes,” she replied, though whether it was reassurance or a threat, he wasn’t certain. “Now then, as my last duty to you before I leave to take up my role as Divine Victoria...” She tipped her head slightly in the direction of Revered Mother Giselle once again. “What would you have me do with her?”
Two pairs of eyes now settled upon the woman who was now in conversation with Varric, Josephine, and Cassandra.
“I wondered if perhaps she could be ‘recalled’ to Val Royeaux,” he replied softly. So many clerics had been lost at the Divine Conclave with Divine Justinia, surely there was a need for a woman with her sense of self-worth.
Leliana’s eyes flashed with amusement as she turned slightly, regaling him with an appraising smile. “And here I thought I would leave you woefully unequipped in my absence.”
Maxwell nearly choked on a sip of his wine. He might be a novice at the Grand Game himself, but even he had his moments. “You will be missed,” he assured her in a more serious tone. “Rest assured of that.” Then with an unrepentant grin and flash of amusement, he added, “Truly, I am ruined for any and all other spymasters after working with you.”
Laughing, Leliana looped an arm through his and squeezed, her smile bright and genuine. “I will miss you as well, my friend,” she returned, “but I will do more good for you and the Inquisition in Val Royeaux.” Tugging on their connection just slightly, she started to lead him back across the room where Dorian had finally broken free of Lady Felicity and was starting in their direction. “Starting,” she added with a wink, “by recalling certain clerical leadership to discuss a few changes I have in mind and allowing you some peace of mind...”