Those Who Hold The Line(Dragon Age: Inquisition)

[Selwyn]

Inquisitor Malphar has finally seen Corypheus destroyed and the breach in the rifts closed. In his wake, Thedas holds its breath. In the north, Qunari Ambassador Hasim must outpace the hounds of war and find a way to keep the tentative peace from self-destructing. Set after the main story but before the events of Trespasser DLC.

(This is an RP fiction wrote by Selwyn (Hasim) and Peri (Malphar). There will be frequent perspective switching between the two main characters.)
...

Malphar​

No matter how many times his gaze glanced wandered upwards to the sky, the lingering green lights were not something he could get used to. Everyone in his hold who stayed on grew used to it eventually. The first week, they'd watch the stars shimmer beyond the thin veil. For the first month, they'd eagerly listen to the stories of Corypheus, the Fade and how Thedas was saved. After two, they no longer crowded the campfires, and the sky's dazzling display was nothing but a reminder of things passed.

But Corypheus was no myth, and the fight against him continued to weigh down on the shoulders of the Inquisitor. His duties continued, his forces remained and so did his influence, but Malphar no longer felt determined as he had when his foe had been a mad darkspawn magister with a dragon at his side and ambitions to become a god. Where was the glory in correspondence, in keeping delicate relations with the Chantry, the Seekers and the Mages? Where was the thrill of victory in exchanging couriers and letters with Tevinter, Orlais and Ferelden?

His advisors took to independence like ducks to water, and Malphar bore them no ill will for it. More often than not, the council room remained empty and the Inquisitor on his balcony, surveying his frozen kingdom of isolation. Well. Imagined isolation. The road to Skyhold was never empty. Travellers, merchants, seldom envoys from noble houses. And of course, some pilgrims as well. Hard as he tried to dispel the notion that he was some kind of herald of Andraste, some believers clung tighter than ever to that idea.

Malphar let them, turning them away had had little to no impact on their numbers.

Back to the green lights. A banner for his accomplishments, and a reminder that the adventure of his lifetime had come to a close. He would not have the luxury of a lonely vigil tonight, however; important guests would soon reach the approach, cross the drawbridge and enter his hold and have their audience with the Inquisitor.

He smoothed a gloved hand over the white leather. He remembered the colourful commentary Sera had for his 'shoot me first' attire. It made him chuckle, even now. Sera had been among the first to promise to stay, and leave. He couldn't blame her. She wasn't built for politics. He however, did not have a choice. Malphar wasn't childish about it. He had tremendous power at his fingertips and the Rift in his palm.

Hasim​

It was not often that the Arishok, Ariqun, and Arigena came together to speak. Their individual duties took them far and wide within Par Vollen and none of them were disposed towards pleasantries anyway. But the rising superpower in the south could no longer be ignored. Tevinter, Orlais, and Ferelden were already hastening to treat with them and it would be folly to continue casting a blind eye in Skyhold's direction.

"You understand your mission, Hasim?"

Before the three leaders, a single figure knelt on the ground. The light from the lanterns glittered along the metal adorning his horns - the symbols of his continued and faithful service to the Qun. There was a small silence before the answer, brief and thoughtful, and an equally thoughtful answer.

"I understand. I will treat with the basalit-an, and understand their ways. Information regarding the power their leader, the Inquisitor, holds will be transmitted back to Par Vollen through the Ben-Hassrath. I will attempt to insert myself within the inner circle of the Inquisitor for further and better understanding of his mentality, and determine the likelihood of future conflict."

"An adequate answer," said the Ariqun. It was a neutral statement, but the tone seemed to be in Hasim's favor. He remained kneeling.

"You understand the consequences of failure."

"I will not be like Hissrad," Hasim said, "I will not call myself Tal-Vashoth."

The Arishok shifted, and Hasim heard the soft slide of his leather and armor against the hard steel thrones. The war-axe that leaned against his leg would easily bite through his considerably thinner armor, and cleave his spine in two if he showed even the slightest hint of wavering.

It was a testament to his unmoving nature that the Arishok leaned back, seemingly content with the still neutrality of his expression.

"So shall it be," the Arigena said. She waved her hand at him. "Go now. Your ships wait for you."

Hasim nodded again, and left the main chamber as quickly as he dared. Triplet glares burned the skin between his shoulders, branding him with the full weight and implication of his duty.

Treat with the basalit-an. It could not be so hard. They were a strange and scattered people, yes, but the Inquisitor had shown a surprising propensity for the collection of eclectic individuals. A Qunari ambassador in his motley crew would raise no brows, especially when the Qun had already reached out once to him before.

A failed attempt, yes. But that could be attributed to Hissrad's failure, and weakness on the part of the Inquisitor. The Qun were too efficient to take offense for long. Not when war was simmering on the horizon, and enemies toed their borders. The action had been taken into account, measured against the benefits, and quietly shuffled aside. Hissrad would need to be disposed of, someday, but the Inquisitor was a wild card that needed leashing sooner than later.

A dreadnought was moored outside in the harbor. Besides her was her escort of smaller, but still impressive, cruisers that bobbed in the calm water. The sailors were already assembled, the ships already prepared, and all that was missing was the presence of the most important passenger.

Hasim glanced back.

Sunlight shone on the carved domes of Qunandar. A breeze rustled the rainforest around the sprawling architecture. The entire city moved, breathed, pulsed with the ebb and flow of the people inside it, until Hasim could feel the warm beat of it all in the stone under his sandals, inhale the spice-laden breathe of the city as it matched him. He would be leaving this all soon, for the frozen and hard landscape the bas called their homes. He'd heard Skyhold was nestled among jagged mountains, all blanketed in snow thicker than a qun was tall, and that dragons slumbered between the peaks.

Qun did not get homesick, though, so Hasim merely turned away and crossed the remaining distance that separated him and his future. Gulls screamed in the sky and weaved among the sails. Soon enough, however, the gulls of the warm north fell away and were replaced by wispy long clouds that skittered across the sky upon chill winds.

Hasim and his dreadnought made good time. They flew over the Amaranthine Ocean within weeks and entered the mouth of the Waking Sea without ever seeing trouble on either sides of the coast. The peace didn't settle Hasim's mind. It, in fact, troubled him further. It felt wrong to behold Thedas in a regional peace. There had to be a war somewhere, somehow, or it was like the sky was the sea and men spoke in animal tongues.

His usual tunic - light and airy - was replaced by a heavy gambeson he secured with a belt. The boots he wore felt oppressive compared to his normal sandals. It was all, his viddathari companion - a human named Tithras - assured him, perfectly normal for the climb. The bas all wore something similar around this time of year.

The bas truly were things, then, because Hasim had never felt colder in his life. Perhaps their nerves were deadened as their minds in the temperature.

The cotton and wool of the gambeson wasn't enough. A greatcoat soon joined his layers, but Hasim still felt the southern wind gnaw on his fingerbones no matter how deeply he shoved them into his pockets. It whipped his dark cheeks, stabbed at him in the early mornings where the chill was worst, until his careful neutrality towards southern Thedas had soured into well-deserved disdain.

Arrival was a blessing. The sight of the Frostback - ragged and snarling - wasn't, but Hasim was glad to be off the dreadnought by them. Even Tithras, hardy as he was, looked a little blue around the edges when they began to unboard at the small harbor town that'd come into being after Skyhold's meteoric rise on the world stage.

"We go up?" he asked Tithras when night had fallen and the shadow of the mountains became increasingly looming. The path that would lead into Skyhold seemed impossibly small - a silver thread caught among a giant's fangs.

Tithras nodded. Hasim held in his sigh until he left, and then stared at the Frostback as long as he could bear the night wind.

Their ascendence wasn't a failure. It wasn't a success either. The order and discipline of the Qunari kept them from complaining when they marched up, but their displeasure could be seen in the tightness around their eyes. Coming upon Skyhold was no mercy - its location had forced them up in the first place - but it was something.

"We would enter Skyhold," he called when they approached the gates, "I am Hasim, speaker for the Qun. Let us in."

...

 

[Selwyn]

...

Hasim​

The guards at the bridge to Skyhold had seen all manner of creatures and travellers, yet the Qunari never failed to strike a nerve with them. It wasn't just the appearance (demonic horns) or their mannerisms (cold as stone), they always seemed to have some sort of unpleasant reason for sending their people out. The Iron Bull, well, he was an exception, and he had not been the same since the loss of his band of mercenaries.

Besides. No announcement of a Qunari envoy had been made. No one had told them anything!

But given their duties, moving aside without say so from the fortress was impossible.

"'Fraid we can't do that. Never heard of no Qunaris coming to visit. You don't look like pilgrims." The braver of the two spoke up, though there was a noticeable shiver in his grip on the hilt of his undrawn sword.

​

"We are not pilgrims," Hasim said dryly. "I am here as an ambassador of the Qun, to negotiate with your Inquisitor. I would speak with him and not the… gate holder."

His gaze flicked between the two, noting their wary stances. Hasim was not armed and none of his escort had drawn their arms either. Surely, the bas would not be stupid enough to attack them?

He glanced at the way they gripped their blades.

Hm. Perhaps.

They would not move to attack. They didn't need to - Hasim doubted the guards had the temerity to declare them attackers when their approach to the castle had been visible for kilometers.


Of course not. The guards may be Fereldan in their manners, but their occupation demanded a certain amount of restraint. Plus, the figure that had strode out of Skyhold and along the bridge now reached their guard posts, and no one would question the authority of one of Lelianna's subordinates. The hooded woman whispered to the guard who had spoken, and immediately, he relaxed, hands casually slipping away from his blade.

"Right. The Nightingale didn't mention nothing to us this morning. I apologise," a curt nod of the head towards the delegation, and both guards stepped aside, "Welcome to Skyhold, sirs."

It was as close to cordial as Fereldans would get. Lelianna's spy had vanished, as they were so prone to, and the bridge lay empty, the gate at its far end open.

Hasim inclined his head about a fraction of a fraction of a centimeter, and then strode forward. With his advance, so followed his escort. They fanned out once they were in the Skyhold courtyard and he glanced around, wondering if they would be received or if the caretaker of this castle was content to let him wander until he stumbled upon the Inquisitor.

Perhaps not. A bas came closer, clad in the livery of the castle.

"Water and stables for the horses," Hasim said when he came closer, not waiting to let him speak. "Food and rooms for the qun. I would speak to your Inquisitor now."

The servant, wisely, did not speak against him.

As the courtyard slowly drained of the Qunari (after much insistence, they were roomed together in one wing) and their horses and supplies were carefully stored elsewhere, Hasim let himself be led deeper into the castle to see the elf that currently held all the nations of Thedas in his green palm.

He wasn't sure what he expected. Someone small, of course, elves were tiny but still… impressive? A warrior, or a mage of some sort. Definitely a leader. The Inquisitor held court with his advisors, who fulfilled positions similar to Hasim's leaders, so surely the Inquisitor had to be some mix of all three. He could not be underestimated.

"This is Ambassador Hasim of the Qun," said the servant when they entered the court, "Here to speak on the behalf of the Qun."

Hasim bent at the waist, mindful of what the basalit-an would want out of him, and spoke. "I come here on the orders of my people to speak with the Inquisitor of Skyhold. Let us meet in peace, and part better than we've met."

Malphar​

"I've always been at peace with your people, ambassador. I'm just surprised the Qun have sent another to my court," A glance to a side-door was all Malphar would show of his acknowledgement of the Iron Bull, who had, wisely, left the hall moments ago, when Lelianna announced where the delegation was from.

Malphar leaned back in his chair. Even elevated above the rest of the room, he didn't particularly rise above the Qunari, but their positions at least were known by everyone in the room. His advisors already suspected the reason for their visit; after the disastrous break with Bull and his Chargers, the Qunari could not simply leave the Inquisition be. Not when every noble in Thedas was clamouring for Malphar's favour, not when the Chantry and Circles relied on him for judgement. Whether it was resentful respect or simply caution that had them send another to speak with him, remained to be seen.

This Hasim wasn't quite as warlike as his previous encounters with Qunari had promised. For one, he wore a thick fur coat and several layers of cloth. Almost as if the horned behemoth was...cold?

Strange. Strange and vulnerable. The last things he'd associate with Qun.

Hasim​

"After the direction of our… last encounter, the Qun has decided that a fresh agent might be better." Hissrad's exclusion from the Qun was not mentioned and perhaps it was for the better. Tal-Vashoth and failure aside, he might've proven an obstacle for Hasim's mission here.

His chin tilted up marginally. "I hope to be a fine addition to your court, Inquisitor. Let us hope this peace lasts better than the previous iterations. The Qun wish to… understand your intentions for the future. Thedas is in a unique position, and the Qun watches to see what you and your Inquisition may do next. I am sure that the other nations have sent their own representatives as well."

Malphar​

Something didn't quite feel right. Maybe it was just the insinuation of this delegation, but if there was one thing Malphar had grown allergic to, it was being pushed around. The Qunari didn't exactly 'ask'. They had simply sent him this new thing, ambassador and entourage, to deal with and expected not to be met with rejection. The entitlement that reeked of? Well, it wouldn't just have Sera chomping at the bit. But he had to be an adult about this. Not everyone could live in the attic and steal freshly baked buns from the kitchen. Diplomacy had become a necessary evil, and he would have to wield it more often than his bow from now on.

Yes, the rest of Thedas had paid tribute and allegiance to him, mostly. Yes, they'd sent delegations. But none had so imperiously demanded to be accepted at his court and invited to stay at Skyhold. The Qunari, as always, surprised him.

"The Qun seems very, very interested now that the rest of Thedas answers my call. What would you say if I denied your offer, ambassador?"

Malphar shifted a little, brought his fingers to lace together as he watched the Qunari closely. This was the key player right here, a Qunari diplomat, not a warrior. Bull would be appalled.

Hasim​

Deny it? Why would he deny it?

Hasim tilted his head, and a well-practiced expression of thoughtfulness flashed across his face. He met eyes with the Inquisitor. He wasn't stupid, no. He understood the power he wielded - understood it, perhaps, a shade too well for Qunari interests. Nothing about him or his actions before implied a warmongerer but who knew with the basalit-an? It would match them to deny them for a petty reason.

"I would leave," he said, "and the Qun will know that you bade me to leave. It will be remembered, for when the Inquisition and the Qun cross paths once again. We met in peace once… twice. Perhaps the third time will follow the pattern. Perhaps it will not."

The Qun were always ready for military action. They'd remained in a perpetual secret war with the rest of Thedas, after all - what was one more enemy?

But, then again, their enemies usually were each other's enemies as well. Nor did their enemies hold the power to cut reality like one might a tapestry.

"At least, if I am truly to leave, then grant me the generosity of the Inquisition for some days to impart my message. An understanding might be reached given time to think and settle, Inquisitor."

Malphar​

"There'll be no need. I merely wished to confirm my suspicion." Malphar would have to keep a close eye on the Qunari here, and especially their ambassador. Mere observation? That didn't sound as efficient as could be. And why send so large a delegation? With human companions as well? They would fit in easily at Skyhold, between ancient elven sentinels, former Grey Wardens and despondent warriors from across Thedas, but their purpose here remained murky.

"You're welcome to stay in Skyhold. I have no quarrel with the Qun. The upper east wing has already been placed at your disposal. Welcome to the Inquisition, ambassador Hasim."

It was as much a dismissal as a sign to the advisors and attendants to take over. Malphar seldom lingered to mingle, and Qunari weren't exactly chatty party guests. If they had needs, they'd be met, but their mere presence here in Skyhold didn't entitle them to indulge in the Inquisitor's company.

Hasim​

Hasim watched the Inquisitor slide out of the court and leave his duties to his advisors. The three - the military advisor and the others, Hasim presumed, handled the mind, body, and soul of the Inquisition together when the Inquisitor did not. It rankled his sensibilities that the Inquisitor would not preside over the rest of the meeting, but he smoothed down his irritation quickly.

He offered the advisors a tepid smile that didn't reach his eyes. They did not trust him, he could tell. What lies had Hissrad told them about the Qun? What lies did they think they knew? One woman hung back while the man approached.

"Commander Cullen," he said. He spoke brusquely, but warmly, and Hasim took his hand after only a moment's hesitation. His grip was strong but comfortable, and he didn't seem bothered when Hasim took his hand back quickly.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, commander," Hasim said, staying a careful distance back so he wouldn't have to tilt his head down directly to look into the human's eyes. "Your reputation precedes you."

"Does it?" The corner of Cullen's mouth twitched up a little, and then he stood aside to introduce his companion. "This is Lady Josephine."

The woman that came up to him was even shorter. From what he could see of her, she had the typical cast of an Antivan and pleasant, handsome features. She gave him a small bow and a cultured smile hovered on her lips.

"Ambassador Hasim," she said. "I've heard of you."

"And I you," Hasim said. In the circles they frequented, meeting the ambassadors of other courts became a common thing. Hasim appeared less frequently than Josephine did, by nature of his people's isolated ways, but he wasn't ignorant of her… or her reputation. "I see that the Inquisition will only pick the best."

She took the comment in stride. "The Qunari must be especially interested in Inquisition affairs, if they sent you along."

His gaze flickered between her's and Cullen's, noting the way the man stepped back to let Josephine take his place. Support? Protector? It was no accident that Josephine came to him as she did, and Hasim didn't forget the woman he'd seen leave the court with her hood obscuring her face. The triumvirate wasn't united, and that unsettled him.

"The atmosphere of Thedas changes, and so must our techniques. Decades without peace can train nations to respond hastily but that would not be… copacetic to our intended results."

"I did not realize the Qun would be so ready to stand down."

"A successful campaign is not built solely upon battles," Hasim replied blithely as he arranged his sleeves to cover his hands better. There was a chill in the court. "We see no reason for the Inquisition to move against us - but our enemies are numerous, and they all desire to see power on their side of the scale. Orlais, Tevinter, and the rest… they all tempt you and yours."

"And the Qun will not?"

"The Qun has no quarrel with the Inquisition. Your Inquisitor himself said that the Inquisition has no quarrel with the Qun. We only seek to keep it that way, and to remind you of that."

Josephine plucked at her sleeve. Cullen slunk besides them, oddly quiet despite the occasional clink of armor. Through the course of their conversation, they'd gravitated to one corner of the court. "You are worried that the others will try to convince us to go to war with you."

"It is a possibility."

"You think the Inquisition is interested in that?"

"I know you not."

"And you are sent here to be a liaison. To tell the Qun if they have something to be worried about."

"I am sent here to be an ambassador." Hasim turned his pale eyes on the lady once more. It was to her credit that she did not look away, even when his shadow fell on her. "It pleases me to make your acquaintance as well, Lady Josephine. I can only hope that it shall remain so. I must make my leave now, and check upon my delegation. If you would excuse me?"

He did not wait for an answer. Giving them both a nod that was polite, if curt, he turned and left the court in a flutter of blue fabric and fur. The court was growing stuffy. A brief foray out into the bracing night might help his muddled mind.

Malphar​

His first impression with the Inquisition's leadership was memorable, and Josephine would no doubt be sending ravens out all night in order to gather more information. No guest stayed at Skyhold without explicit knowledge about them getting into her hands, whether it was Lelianna's doing or her own liaisons. Josephine never lost sight of the 'game', and another player had just unwittingly entered the crowded field around Inquisitor Lavellan.

Who, incidentally, had escaped the nightly, stuffy business of the hall being used to dine in, which translated directly into a battlefield of words at every table. Hasim was not the only delegation staying here, and between Orlesian masked ladies and tightly-lipped Nevarran knights, the Inquisitor always felt decisively uncomfortable. How long had it been since he hunted for his own food? He sorely missed living with his clan, even if Skyhold provided every comfort a man, elf or dwarf could hope for.

His bouts of nostalgia were increasing, as were the dreams of the fade. The palm of his left had become a thing of its own, no longer a mere body part. Sometimes Malphar wondered what would happen if he hacked it off.

Not that such flights of fancied violence occurred often, but in times of stress, Malphar could feel Thedas on his shoulders. Last week, a very ominous letter from Dorian about the state of Tevinter. This week, Qunari ambassadors.

"You understand them better than I do."

His companion said nothing, nose snuffling as he rifled through Malphar's pockets in search of a treat. It would have surprised the Inquisitor too if Talis had answered, considering he was a Hart stag.

"I like your horns better."

Talis snorted and Malphar tightened the last buckle of the saddle. A nightly ride would surely lift his spirits, even if his advisors would give him those lecturing glances in the morning.


He pulled his coat closer. Snow crunched under his boots and the little loops over his horn's decorations hit each other as they swung in the wind. It was cold, unbearably cold, but Hasim thought he might be getting used to it. Or he was contracting pneumonia and his body was just shutting down.

Tithras reported that all was well. His escort were well fed and quartered, and nothing like poison appeared in their food. Now, all that was left to check was his horses.

The stable was near the gates. Hasim shielded his face against a particular harsh howl of wind before he finally slid into the relative shelter of the stables.


The animals at Skyhold were hardy, but the stables were comfortably warm nonetheless. Straw and hay were kept well away from the mage-lights, even though the risk of anything catching on fire was very low. Most of the horses here had a shaggy, thick coat, and Malphar's hart was a beast of the cold forests anyway, with a lot of layers to his silvery hair. Noticeably, the Qunari's horses were far too smooth for the climate. They were covered in blankets, mage-lights positioned at each stall and still they crowded together as best they could. Malphar felt more concerned about their wellbeing than the visiting delegation, but he'd let them be. Talis took up considerable space between the stalls, antlers branching out elegantly to both sides and making it impossible for someone tall to walk by him. Anything shorter than the statured stag? No problem at all.

Malphar ducked around his mount in order to lead him out, only to be confronted with a mass of fur and horns he did not expect in the stables.

"Ambassador."

It didn't come out as controlled and distant as he wanted. Like a child caught stealing from the kitchen, Malphar felt a vague sense of guilt for being right here, when he should be making appearances.


Hasim glanced at him, and the massive deer besides him, and the air turned distinctly questioning. Rather than ask, however, he tilted his head back to the massive deer's horns would not touch him.

"Inquisitor. I came down to see to my horses. I assume you are with your own… mount, as well?"

Whatever that creature the Inquisitor leading was, anyway.


"...You seem surprised."

It was a little intriguing, he had to admit, to see the Qunari's reaction to Talis. At least it would hold Malphar's interests long enough to give the ambassador a closer look. He really didn't match the warrior image firmly lodged within Malphar's mind of a Qunari. Sure, he was large, huge even, but there was something softer around the edges that he couldn't put his fingers on. Maybe the reaction to the cold, or maybe the plating on the horns.

"Is this the first time you've seen a hart, ambassador?" Malphar only reached the withers of his stag, but the Qunari was face to face with him.


The deer - the hart - seemed to be staring at him. Hasim stared back when he realized he had to go around it if he wanted to reach his horses. Those antlers looked like they could gore a Qunari. He looked down at the Inquisitor, who was comically small besides the massive creature.

"It is," he said. His eyes wandered to the saddle. In Par Vollen, most antlered creatures had been about knee-high. "I did not know you could train such animals to be ridden."

The creature seemed rooted in place. It did not even fidget, as other creatures might have in its place. "You are going riding?"


There may not have been any intentional accusation in that tone, but Malphar's guilty conscience certainly applied layers of it generously. The quaint notion of pleasant surprise dissipated quickly and the Inquisitor remembered to take the reins of his hart and tug the massive animal a little to the side.

"Yes. I prefer the silence to the chatter in the hall. I'd rather go hunt than be besieged by Orlesian nobles."

Well, that was a little more expressive than intended, but Malphar wouldn't correct himself and look like a stammering fool.

"...You don't look like you want to accompany me."

Could Qunari shiver? He bet this one could.


He looked at the shivering mass of Qunari horses just barely visible beyond the hart's thick body. They were huddled together and covered in blankets, and Hasim felt a sudden and strong feeling of kinship with them in that moment. He looked at the Inquisitor again.

"Is that an offer?" he asked. The horses seemed to shiver more. "...perhaps an offer I cannot take. The horses we brought with us were from Ferelden, promised to be hardy in weather of the Frostback, but they seem to be less than sure now. Maybe later."

Maybe never, considering the weather. A strange thing, this elf, wandering out like the snow wasn't piling on high enough to go over his pointed ears. What if he fell into a snowdrift? Then Thedas would be short one Inquisitor and Hasim would be out here for nothing.


Malphar gave it a second of thought, and then something mischievous tugged at his mind. Well, if the ambassador was here to keep things peaceful, he ought to appease the Inquisitor's whims, shouldn't he?

"Oh, you could borrow one of my horses," he gestured over to a stall where a thickly maned, dark horse was chewing hay, entirely oblivious to the plight of the Qunari mounts, "It is a lovely sight this time of night."

The mere hint of a smirk tugged at his lips, but Malphar knew how to tame it into an innocent, inviting smile.


A sinking feeling entered his gut. Hasim followed his gaze to one of the shaggy horses. They looked strong enough to support him, yes, but… "Where would we go?"

What kind of person just wanders out at night, in the middle of a blizzard? He ducked so that his horns didn't touch that of the hart's, and offered his palm to the Skyhold horse. It snuffled as it looked up from its feed, and snorted into his palm in search of a treat. Hasim let it have a sugar cube from his pocket - he'd been keeping some on his person for the trek upward for his own horse as both lure and minor apology for subjecting it to the cold.

It was saddled, already. He could, theoretically, get on and ride out with the Inquisitor.

"Are you certain of this? Just earlier this evening, you seemed ready to walk me out your gates."


"Oh, that was not personal, ambassador. I have to test the waters a little, if you can understand. I receive delegations weekly, and their purpose is not always so clear-cut as yours. There are plenty of interested parties that would do just about anything to receive my allegiance, and there are those that would rather see it leashed, contained, and in their control. And whilst I may not fully understand the Qun, I know they are not particularly capable of deception."

Malphar swung himself up on his hart, though he did not yet move out. The offer of keeping him company on his ride still stood, but he hardly expected Hasim to make use of it. He looked distinctly uncomfortable. Something Malphar was starting to see from a lot of Northerners, now that the summer had passed. Snow lay on the Frostbacks all year round, though Skyhold's magical protections made the wind and ice a lot milder, even bringing the temperatures up to a spring-like warmth in summer.

It was an odd place to live. Malphar had considered moving, once the Inquisition was finished. Foolishly, once upon a time, he believed it would end when he defeated Corypheus, and he himself would be free to return to the Dales, or move to the Storm Coast. Neither of those options were open to him and he only recently made his peace with it.

"You'll get used to the cold. You should visit my tailors. For yourself and your delegation. Trust me, you'll be happy to have spent the coin."

Malphar tapped his stag, who began heading for the door.


I know they are not particularly capable of deception.

Hasim's face, unseen, twitched. It was what spurred him to make his decision.

"I shall join you," he declared, and opened the stall door to take his own horse out. The Skyhold mount seemed pleased to join him, friendly now that he'd cemented his status of treat-giver. Another sugar cube was handed to it before Hasim led it out to stand behind the Inquisitor's hart.

"I shall pay a visit to your tailors after," he said, "and it would be my pleasure to ride with you."

No, it wouldn't. But Hasim wouldn't let this basalit-an insult his people and walk away from it. He came with a mission, and he would see it fulfilled to the highest measure.


Malphar nodded graciously, leaning down to pick up the bow leaning against Talis' now empty stall. Longer than his back, it rested on the hart's side and peeked over the Inquisitor's head.

Talis pushed the door open himself, eager to run and stretch his legs. Malphar didn't mind the harsh wind that met them. He'd stared ice dragons in the face, wrestled with wyverns in the bitter winter of Orlais' most remote regions. This? Refreshing.

At least, for Hasim's sake, the skies had mercy and stopped the snowfall for tonight.

"Very well then. Follow me."

Malphar let his mount set the pace and it took off at a brisk trot, crossing the now-empty courtyard to reach the open gate and bridge. Nothing but the noise of Hasim's horse's hooves echoed in the walls of Skyhold, the entire population indoors by now. Malphar could almost pretend he lived alone in his castle in the mountains.


He mounted his horse and followed the Inquisitor into the black night. The hooves of their beasts clicked on the stone courtyard. "You did not tell your court of your ride," he said after a moment of silence. "No one would've known had I not been in the stables."

Secrecy? For someone who was in such high demand, the Inquisitor seemed determined to stay out of the public eye. The moon glimmered at them weakly, and the snow reflected the pale light. With how dark it was, it made the mountains seem endless and eternal, covered in an unmelting field of snow that shimmered like silverleaf.

"I apologize if I interrupted what was meant to be a solitary sojourn." Even if the elf had offered in the first place. At that point, it was a matter of pride in accepting.


"I would not have offered if I did not wish for any company." Malphar wondered what the Qunari was thinking, considering he noticed how secretive he'd been about slipping out of his own court. It certainly wasn't part of his image, to avoid a crowd. He'd danced with nobles at the Orlesian court, after all, and there was nothing shy about the spectacle he'd made when exposing the threat to the queen's life there.

All of that was in his past, and that part, Malphar did not miss.

"I can't say I've met many diplomats of your kind," they crossed the bridge, and the silence of the courtyard was replaced by the winds in the mountains. He would have been fine to not speak at all, but perhaps this conversation could become something less of a burden than any official meetings. It was just a nighttime ride, not a grand escape from his responsibilities.


"We are few in number and used sparingly." The Qun did not see a reason to use diplomacy for the bas. They died, or they would die, and that was that. Unless, of course, something unprecedented like the Inquisitor came up. If things had gone as they should've, Thedas would've been devastated by the Blight and the Mage-Templar wars, and ripe for conquest. But here they were, and the elf with the green palm could not be denied anymore than he could be swayed.

"How many of my contemporaries of Thedas origin lay within your court? I've seen many different fashions and people in the brief time I spent at court." Too many, in his opinion. What use was there saturating the court of the Inquisitor?


"Such is the nature of Skyhold. It is not a castle, it is a fortress. Chosen to be defensible against the magics of Corypheus. Now, the biggest threat is offending a visiting noble and risking a tense relation with his or her home country."

Malphar sighed wistfully. As much as he used to enjoy the politics involved with getting the Inquisition on its feet, he did not appreciate hosting the same kind of meaningless dances and discussions with visitors now. Nor was he keen to give away names and numbers, because the Qunari were nothing if not diligent in tracking their information.

"Delegations come and go. So do friends, and enemies. My council is much more knowledgeable on who is who. I'm merely the face and name given to the power of the Inquisition."

Well. And the actual power of the Inquisition, fade-given and such, but Malphar didn't need to brag. He didn't have to, because Thedas was intimately aware of him and would not turn her eyes away for an instant.


"Tense relations?" Who cared for that? It seemed like such a petty thing to be concerned over. "I did not realize that you would be worried over such matters when you are… who you are."

His horse trotted up to the hart's side. It was shorter than the hart, but Hasim's height made up for his mount's lack. Like this, he and the Inquisitor could see eye-to-eye. Keeping half his attention on the path, he turned his face to the elf. "Friends come and go… yet you afford an impressive amount of trust to your council. You do not believe they will go?"

Loyalty. As rare as trust, as hard as hate, and as unshakeable as faith. Hasim knew loyalty when he saw it. Whatever tools there were against the Inquisitor, the council could not be counted among them.


"They've proven their trust in me by following my lead when I was nothing. It is only fair that I put faith in their loyalty now. They would not steer this Inquisition wrong."

They'd become trusted, closer than friends, more valuable to him than family ever was. And still, they were his followers, and his decisions were final, even with their advice. It was a delicate thing, this balance between himself and his council. He couldn't say he had experience with it before. Back when he'd lived in the Dales, among his clan, Malphar had been a good hunter, but nothing more. Then, he became a spy. And then, his life was the focus of all of Thedas. He tried not to think about it too much, but not many could claim to have lived through something similar.

With the exception of a famous Grey Warden, whom he had yet to meet, he couldn't of a single name. But perhaps, he was wallowing in ignorance, and Thedas simply did not spread tales as often and widely as it should.

"Do you doubt your leaders? I know the Qun are very different to...us. Certainly to my kind. You have an integrity to your entire people that is difficult to understand. Do you trust, or expect?"


"How familiar are you with the Qun way? Do you know our oaths, our philosophies?" Hasim was never one to turn away from proselytizing. It was unlikely that he could actually convert the elf, but one could dream. What a coup that would be for the Qun.


"Not as familiar as I'd like. I can't say I've had time or willing teachers to study your way."

After all, Bull was very opposed to discussing much of it after what had occurred at the Storm Coast. Malphar had not pressed him, since his band of actual friends was stretched thin as is.

Not that he was desperate to know of the Qunari, but it would come in useful if he could plead anything but vague assumptions about an entire people. As an elf, he'd been on the receiving end of such assumptions long before he became important.

"If there is time, I try to understand as many people as I can. Thedas is in my palm. I can hardly afford to be arrogant of every culture I come across."


"A noble, if misguided, belief." There was a clear divide in all things. Those who were of the Qun, and those who were not. To understand one was to waste time. Such behavior would, at the most, require intervention from the Ben-Hassrath for re-education on the true way.

"The Qun is not a religion, as you bas would call it. It is a way of life. The right way of life. Our philosophy is of unity and equality, so that we function together as we should. The Qun is an entity, and we are its body, mind, and soul."

It was a bastardized litany from his childhood, but it got across the message adequately. His horse huffed at the air. "Someday, Thedas will understand. Perhaps not in my lifetime, but it shall."


Malphar was beginning to understand Bull's dismissal of the way of his people. More or less. It sounded...well, the way the ambassador spoke, it didn't sound like some kind of enlightened way of existence. It just sounded like the absolute departure from recognizing yourself as a person, with an independent will.

But this wasn't new. This was the part of the Qunari that Malphar had understood before. And it had been this way of living that had him agree with the Iron Bull's choices of people over principles.

"Understanding and indoctrination are two very different things, ambassador."

The night's cold silence wasn't enough to freeze the conversation, though Malphar sorely wished he hadn't started it. Fortunately for him, the distant hiss of an awakened wyvern took his attention from his company. Malphar raised one hand to indicate an interruption in their speaking and notched an arrow. Talis had free decision over how to approach, and the stag lowered his head for his rider to have a better field of vision.

It wouldn't be dinner, but it would be a welcome interruption.


Hasim sighed at the reply, not too surprised. His time as an ambassador got him well-inured to the instant and unthinking denial of the rest of Thedas. The Qun would prevail still, but not immediately as hoped. Before he could answer, however, he caught sight of the same creature the Inquisitor had noted.

Immediately, his hand went to his dagger. Hasim rarely walked in armor, or carried big weaponry. It made his job harder, so he tried to forego them whenever possible… but perhaps it was a bad idea. The wyvern didn't seem too difficult to handle, and the Inquisitor wasn't panicked, but the thin blade at his side seemed terribly inefficient for this task. What kind of fortress had wild beasts just fifteen minutes ride's away anyway?

He took it out, just in case. "Must we kill it?"


Malphar didn't have time to give his companion an answer, because the wyvern noticed their presence and subsequently, charged them with a terrible shriek. The Inquisitor swung his leg over his mount, sliding down to the ground as the stag bolted, the wyvern hot on its heels but hardly fast enough to catch it.

The first arrow lodged itself into the creature's thick neck and hardly did any damage. Good. He'd be disappointed if he'd found the one weak spot in its hide so soon.

"Just stay back!" he called out to the Qunari, but the wyvern had no such compulsion about avoiding the Qunari ambassador. Though well-trained as it was, Hasim's horse was having none of those snapping jaws and gurgling acid spit, so it reared, turned and ran, rider and all.