@inquisitorataashi || plotted starter
How many months had it been? When he’d lost so many important things in his life? It hadn’t just been the arm that had been taken from him, or the Inquisition that had been disbanded, friends gone afar and even family. But his lover, too. A personal mission which even if Kaaras Adaar had wanted to aid with, he could not. He had to trust Adahlen, and he did. Which meant that he couldn’t see him for months on end. In truth, Kaaras had needed him...
After his recovery, he had needed someone by his side, to help him become independent once more. To help him with the severe mental struggles that came with being handicapped. Kaaras had still had support, but he also internalised so much of his struggles that most people believed him when he told them he was fine. Adahlen wouldn’t have, though, he would have seen the pain he was in, the suffering behind the kind smiles and facades.
In the year, however, he supposed helping himself had been for the best. Kaaras had always been an independent man, so when it was stripped of him, he felt like nothing but a nuisance. A year gone by since the disbanding, a year gone since the loss of his limb, and he’d become perhaps stronger than ever. Danga had crafted a fine, metal replacement, gears and all that worked with special runes, and of course, Kaaras’ own force magic helped. The phantom pain was still there, and he’d live with that for the rest of his life, but he was reminded every day of the fact that despite Solas removing the only weapon he’d had to help keep the Veil at bay, Solas had still saved him from becoming victim to whatever horror the anchor would do to him. Scars now marred his arm and over his shoulder from the toxic spread, but he was alive. That’s what mattered.
A home away from home, since Skyhold was abandoned once more, Kaaras had moved back to Ferelden, travelling back and forth between where his company was also stationed in Starkhaven. The once Inquisitor still had a reputation, after all, and certainly the riches to make a comfortable living. But Ferelden had always been home, as had a farm life. It was his comfort.
He was tending to the yard when he heard the noise, long ears flicking as he peaked up over the tall grass and flowers. His heart was torn between dropping to his bowels or leaping from his throat, as there stood Adahlen, his trusty mabari by his side.
Kaaras’ eyes opened wide, pushing himself up to his feet. “Adahlen...” he mouthed, as if he were nothing but a mirage to a lonely, starved mind.
