[[ Ask Roulette meme - Accepting. @kaaras-adaar got, “Locked in the basement” ]] Skyhold was absolutely, positively, one hundred percent, losing its collective mind. The morning started out well enough. Anthracite had checked in at the war table with Kaaras’ friends she liked to call curly, slinky, and moe (Cullen, Lel, and Josephine) to get the latest news about which noble had currently been shatting all over the other noble’s this-and-that and also the state of the ending world. And the mage and templars. Mages and fuckin’ templars. Anyway, it was just a passing comment at the war table at first. Cullen had put down several pieces of parchment that Josephine had given him, which had made him both exhale heavily, several times, through his nostrils, as well as scowl and said: “The Inquisitor is late this morning, isn’t he?” To which everyone nodded or shrugged. Hey, being Inquisitor was tough. Anthracite figured the big killer teddy bear had decided to take a well deserved nap. The gathering scattered out soon after, everyone to their jobs, duties and so on. By mid-afternoon, on her way to check in on something trivial–Anthy noticed that several of the Inquisitions pages, some of Cullen’s runners and even Leliana’s ‘scouts’ were scurrying back and forth from the crow’s nest, kicking up dust as they ran all over Skyhold. No matter where Anthracite went that afternoon, there was someone in the Inquisition’s colors frantically looking for something. It wasn’t until one of the pages finally tracked down Anthy by sunset that she began to have a bad feeling…“You’re to be in the war room, right now!” the poor page gasped, out of breath. He didn’t have to tell her twice.
****The Iron bull was lazily leaning against the war table, hip nearly touching Dorian’s. Anthracite was pretty sure by the look on his face Bull was doing his best to try and charm Dorian–because Dorian’s eyes were rolling so hard in his skull Anthy swore she could hear them knocking around. Not that Dorian seemed to mind, of course, because he was grinning. Leliana stood at one edge, a bit by herself, arms folded. Not too far, Josephine with her clipboard and candle in tow, furiously scribbling and in discussion with a frantically gesturing Cullen. Varric had an elbow on the table and was flipping a coin, eyes bouncing from one to the other. Sera laid on one of the side benches, her legs on the wall and head brushing the floor yawning loudly and making fun of Blackwall’s behind. Something about a new pair of britches. Or no britches. Anthracite wasn’t paying attention to them. She was listening to Cullen as she stomped closer. “–And I am telling you , messere Montilyet, that Inquisitor Adaar has not missed a war table once. He is punctual and never late. And now, none of my pages–” “–Nor my little birds,” Leliana chimed in. “–Nor, her–” Cullen paused, glancing at Leliana and back, “–scouts have, either. And if they cannot…” Josephine interjected smoothly. “Perhaps the Inquisitor does not wish to be found? Certainly, messere Rutherford, a day to himself is most deserving. I believe that–” “You cannot honestly think that he would run off on his own, do you, Ruffles?” Varric’s gravely voice cut through. Bull’s shrug was massive, his rumbling reply amused: “Why not? He’s the boss. He can do what he wants, and he barely does.” Anthracite had been watching them all speak, eyes ping-ponging back and forth until she had to reach up with increasing sinking feeling, and rub them. Hard. Perhaps it was the gesture. Or her lack of speech that had Cullen round on her. “And you, you have been surprisingly quiet. You’ll forgive me if that raises my suspicions just a tiny bit.” Lelianna’s snort was not nearly drowned out by Anthracite’s groan. “I think I know where he be.” The room went still. Cullen took three quick steps toward Anthracite before stopping. “What?” the lion headed commander asked quietly. “I said, I think I know where he be.” She sighed, dropped her hand from her eyes. “Well, don’t keep us all in suspense,” Leliana purred. Her face seemed amused, but Anthracite could see the way everyone in the room had shifted somewhat. They were all rather protective of their Inquisitor. “Sos…I been tryin’ to teach ‘im how to pick locks, right?” “What?” Cullen repeated. “Oh, Commander, really. It is a very useful skill one should have,” Leliana laughed. Bull chortled, Dorian sighed, and Varric coughed. “Teachin’ im. T’pick locks,” Anthy said. S-l-o-w-e-r, just in case she had broken something in Cullen’s brain today. “An’ I got t’ thinkin’ ye know them really, really ol’ broken cells way down in th’ belly of Skyhold? Likes, th’ ones we don’t use fer prisoner’s now, ‘cause–” Cullen clapped a hand over his face muttering something about the Maker preserving him.“–they aren’t up to some sorta code or what not. Wells. I gotta thinkin’, I’ll put sum new locks down there. Some pithy things, aye? A padlock, an easy latch and pulley. A few steel locks and …an’ y’know, some of the more complicated locks from Orzammar…” “Oh Ye Andraste,” the Commander moaned. “Tell me he isn’t.” To which Dorian quipped, “Isn’t he a mage?” Anthracite put her hands in her pockets. “I dunno!” She took a step backwards as they were ALL looking at her. “I only showed it to ‘im once! We did a few practices! I lent ‘im my old picks…I said ‘now don’t try t’get out on yer own without me around’–” Had she? She can’t remember. “–I’m sure he’sfinei’lljustgogethimnowbye–” Anthracite ran out of there in such a hurry, that the entire group was left staring for a moment at the place she had once stood. Since she was in such a hurry, however, Anthy missed the sound of the entire War room bursting into laughter.
