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One night at Skyhold
Jul. 2nd, 2019 12:12 amAdamant had been some shit. The siege itself hadn't thrown Bull too badly, even with all the corrupted wardens and demons running around, but falling into the damned Fade had not been part of anyone's plan. It had taken every ounce of training he had to keep his head on straight as they bodily walked through a nightmare-claimed landscape that was completely unfamiliar, and that played on each of their deepest fears.
It's a long, hard trip back to Skyhold and as soon as they get there, Bull asks Cassandra, and the Inquisitor, beat him with the biggest training staff either of them can manage. It helps, some, but after that he roots himself in the tavern and he doesn't plan to leave until the scenery swims when he stands up.
He drinks with Dorian, with the Inquisitor, with the others that were there. Bull doesn't talk much but he doesn't think he needs to, not between the intense philosophical discussion and what the fuck happened flying around him. His gaze drifts toward Dorian with alarming frequency, but Bull blames the drinking and the near-death-experience that's been sitting on his shoulders for weeks.
Bull makes himself stop drinking at some point and quietly excuses himself. He waves off encouragement to stay - he has to write some letters.
He sobers up enough to get up the three fights of stairs to his room above the tavern. It seemed as good a place as any for him, especially once the roof had been fixed up. Other than the bed and his gear, it's still fairly sparse.
Bull hopes his dreams won't be too intense after walking through the fucking Fade. He's not particularly eager to go to bed. He considers finding company before recalling he has letters to write - a convenient excuse to leave the tavern, but also true. He wants to do it while the memories are fresh; he's had enough time to consider what he will report to Par Vollen and what he will leave out. Bull manages to retrieve his travel desk from his gear and make it to the edge of his bed without too much disaster. At least he'll be able to read through these again before he sends them off.
The last thing he needs is to mess up some code after drinking too much.
It's a long, hard trip back to Skyhold and as soon as they get there, Bull asks Cassandra, and the Inquisitor, beat him with the biggest training staff either of them can manage. It helps, some, but after that he roots himself in the tavern and he doesn't plan to leave until the scenery swims when he stands up.
He drinks with Dorian, with the Inquisitor, with the others that were there. Bull doesn't talk much but he doesn't think he needs to, not between the intense philosophical discussion and what the fuck happened flying around him. His gaze drifts toward Dorian with alarming frequency, but Bull blames the drinking and the near-death-experience that's been sitting on his shoulders for weeks.
Bull makes himself stop drinking at some point and quietly excuses himself. He waves off encouragement to stay - he has to write some letters.
He sobers up enough to get up the three fights of stairs to his room above the tavern. It seemed as good a place as any for him, especially once the roof had been fixed up. Other than the bed and his gear, it's still fairly sparse.
Bull hopes his dreams won't be too intense after walking through the fucking Fade. He's not particularly eager to go to bed. He considers finding company before recalling he has letters to write - a convenient excuse to leave the tavern, but also true. He wants to do it while the memories are fresh; he's had enough time to consider what he will report to Par Vollen and what he will leave out. Bull manages to retrieve his travel desk from his gear and make it to the edge of his bed without too much disaster. At least he'll be able to read through these again before he sends them off.
The last thing he needs is to mess up some code after drinking too much.
