Skyhold’s Disappearing Décor

“There are supposed to be 52 copies of Hard in Hightown in the library!” The librarian

paced in perturbed circles. “There are only four! Four! Whatever will I do?”

Inquisitor Lavellan sighed. “I’ll see if I can locate them for you.” She liked to help the

residents of Skyhold, and she had been planning to read Hard in Hightown, but finding lost

books was still low on the list of priorities. The librarian continued pacing as Lavellan headed

upstairs to start her search.

The first book was easily found on Leliana’s desk. Lavellan tentatively picked up the

contraband and raised an eyebrow at Leliana. “You… kidnapped a copy of Hard in Hightown?”

“Oh, Inquisitor. I was waiting for one of my agents to report, and I thought I’d read it.

We never did catch whoever was copying Varric.”

“Alright. Just, check it out next time. The librarian’s quite worried about all the missing

books.”

Lavellan walked around the edge of the room and down over the railing at Solas’s table

alone in the chamber in the chamber below. She missed him. He also owed her an explanation;

his feelings being “real” did not suffice. She went back downstairs to find several books near

Dorian.

“Dorian?”

“Inquisitor?”

“Why do you need six copies of Hard in Hightown?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never read that dwarf’s book.”

“Sure you haven’t. Next time check out the books. I’m pretty sure you can do so

anonymously if that’s your concern.”

After thoroughly examining the second floor of the rotunda, Lavellan remembered the

balcony of the third floor and ascended the stairs. Upon reaching the top she jumped back in

surprise, almost tumbling down the stairs. She was certain she hadn’t seen anyone go down the

stairs, yet everyone and their furnishings were gone. She picked up the few books scattered

around the room and the balcony. She was fairly certain they hadn’t jumped the balcony, but

couldn’t help looking. There wasn’t even a convenient roof to land on.

She returned downstairs to ask Dorian. Lavellan staggered in surprise. The second floor

was as empty as the third. Lavellan was starting to be concerned as she headed downstairs. At

least Solas’s desk was still there. She took a sip of his magically still warm tea and smiled at the

magic nails holding the desk in place. Sera had moved it one too many times.

Hiding in the rafters, Dorian and Sera gasped. “You said that desk had old elfy magic on

it.” Sera complained.

“It does have ancient elven magic on it. I told you, I can’t find the source and I can’t

undo it. I hate saying ‘I can’t.’ Please don’t make me repeat it.”

“The Inquisitor, an archer, can affect magic that you can’t. Can’t. But hey, everyone’s

got bad days, yeah?”

The Inquisitor stepped into the main hall and was relieved to see the throne, tables,

chairs, Varric, and other people all in their usual spaces. She walked over to Varric. “Hey

Inquisitor.”

“Hi Varric. The librarian says 48 copies of Hard in Hightown have gone missing. You

wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?”

“Hahaha” The Inquisitor stared at Varric. “Oh, wait, you’re not joking. Uh, no, no-one’s

threatened to steal my books. But if you ever feel like getting into some trouble, just let me

know.”

As the Inquisitor entered her chambers to search for more books, Sera and Dorian

approached Varric from the shadows.

“We have trouble to get into.”

After confusedly collecting around eleven books from her own chambers, Lavellan

returned to the main hall where, to her shock and dismay, much was missing. Her throne had

been replaced with a book. All the tables and chairs were gone, as was Varric. Lavellan

approached on of the remaining people in the hall, hoping for a witness.

“Inquisitor.”

“Yes, did you see what happened to –

“Inquisitor.”

“Yes, you already –

“Inquisitor.”

“You can really stop –

“Inquisitor.”

“Are you really going to keep –

“Inquisitor.”

“Please stop.”

“Ser.”

“Not Inquisitor?”

“Inquisitor.”

“Back to this I see.”

“Inquisitor.”

At this point, she gave up. Hoping Josephine would be able to explain the strange

conversation that just happened, Lavellan went in the direction of the war table. After the

previous disappearances, she was hardly surprised that Josephine was not in her room. She

picked up a stray copy of Hard in Hightown.

Behind her in the main hall Leliana snuck up on Dorian, Sera, and Varric. “What did you

do with Josephine?” The menace in her voice would have frightened them had they not been

expecting her.

“Don’t worry Nightingale.” Varric started to explain. “Ruffles is fine. We’ve got her

siblings keeping her occupied. They were more than happy to take part in a prank on the

illustrious Inquisitor.”

“Good. I’d noticed your little prank. I even added to it.”

“So, are you responsible for the ‘Inquisitor’ conversation? Brilliant touch I must say.”

Dorian commented.

“Yes, they were… convinced.”

The trouble makers were out of sight before the exhausted Inquisitor passed through into

the garden. She was no longer surprised at the lack of people, although the book floating in

midair beside a staircase threw her off a little. Lavellan climbed the staircase, jumped the railing,

and gracefully grabbed the book on her way down. Maybe this would all go back to normal if

she collected all the books, she hoped in vain.

However, deciding this was an unfortunately unlikely outcome, she descended the stairs

to the undercroft to retrieve her bow. The undercroft currently housed one metal tripod and

nothing else. Lavellan looked down at the tripod in dismay. She poked it harboring a fragment of

hope. The tripod slid a few inches away from her then toppled off the cliff. She sighed and

looked off the mountain for a few moments before returning to the great hall. Maybe Vivienne

would help her.

“How did you get rid of Vivienne?” Varric asked Sera.

“She was ‘invited’ to a fancy shmancy ball as the ‘guest of honor.’”

“Hah. Good idea. Is there a real ball?”

“No” Sera giggled, “I sent her to a Dalish hunting party.”

The Inquisitor walked into the tavern. Normally, she didn’t drink, but this day called for a

large alcoholic beverage. She wasn’t expecting any people, but the lack of alcohol alarmed her.

“Really? Even the drinks?” She exclaimed unaware of her slightly tipsy followers. Cole, Krem,

Iron Bull, and the bard had joined their numbers. Varric had convinced Cole and Iron Bull that

they were helping the Inquisitor. The bard came for Sera.

The Inquisitor then remembered the little room full of fancy alcohol she’d been gathering

from all over Thedas. After climbing down what felt like much too many stairs Lavellan entered

the tiny room only to have her bubble of hope quickly popped. The shelves were empty. “Not

even one bottle?” She asked the air in despair.

The Inquisitor headed for the kitchen, if it didn’t have alcohol, it might have comfort

food. The kitchen was empty. She checked all the cabinets. Definitely empty. She headed to the

healers’ tents, because at this point even elf root seemed appetizing. The tents were also empty.

The Inquisitor was exhausted. She walked around Skyhold’s grounds aimlessly waiting

for anything to happen. Then she was truly shocked.

“Cassandra!” Lavellan ran up to Cassandra to no response.

“Cassandra?” She said uncomprehendingly. Still no response.

“Cassandra.” She was losing hope.

“Damn it Cassandra.” Lavellan thunked her head onto the fake Cassandra’s shoulder and

proceeded to knock both it and herself to the ground. “Damn it Cassandra” came out slightly

muffled as she lay on the ground. The Inquisitor sat on the ground for a moment and rested her

chin in her hands. “Maybe I can sleep this off.” She looked at the fake Cassandra on the ground

next to her. “What do you think?”

Cassandra was actually dealing with some of her Nevarran family members and had left a

note which had in turn been conveniently snatched by Sera. Sera was having a very difficult time

not laughing maniacally at the Inquisitor talking to Dorian’s magically crafted (with some help

from Dagna and Harrit, although Blackwall made the wooden bits) copy of Cassandra.

The Inquisitor returned to her room only to discover all of her furniture gone. She felt

ready to cry. She’d take Corypheus over this nonsense any day. She did a mental walkthrough of

Skyhold and remembered Cullen had a bed. She vaguely recalled him saying something about

visiting the troops. At any rate she considered it unlikely that he would be there. When she

climbed the ladder in his section of the ramparts, she was so relieved to see a bed that she

collapsed to sleep on it.

The next morning Cullen returned from a visit to the troops. Tired after his long journey,

he went to his quarters. He was shocked to see the Inquisitor sleeping on the floor where his bed

had previously rested.

“Inquisitor?”

Lavellan rubbed her eyes, disoriented. “Cullen?” Then she realized she was talking to

another person. “Cullen!” She jumped up and hugged him. Cullen was confused, concerned, and

slightly uncomfortable. She continued to hug him.

“Is everything alright Inquisitor?”

Lavellan deliriously mumbled into his shoulder, practically crying. “You’re alive! I’m

not alone! Not everyone disappears. Please don’t leave me.”

Cullen pried her off his shoulder not sure what she had said but aware that she was upset.

“Inquisitor, um, why were you sleeping on the floor, in my room?”

“The, the floor?” Lavellan looked behind her. “There, there, there was a bed. I swear it!

There was a bed! It was there!”

Cullen, still thoroughly confused, tried to ask another question. “Alright, I’m sure there

was a bed.” The Inquisitor murmured “There was.” Before Cullen went on to ask, “Yes, but why

were you in my bed.”

Lavellan looked up at Cullen then looked away and blushed as she finally calmed down

enough to understand the question.

“Everything was gone.” She explained quietly. “The books, the desks, the tables, the

people, and my bed. I couldn’t find anyone. Then I couldn’t find any drinks. Then my bed. So,

when I saw your bed was still here…”

“Okay. And, what happened?” The Inquisitor looked like she was about to burst into

tears. “No, never mind. Um, let’s look for some people, alright? Preferably a healer. Or maybe

Cole.”

Lavellan quieted again and grabbed onto Cullen’s arm. “You’re not disappearing” she

whispered as they headed towards the field where the healers had resided.

Meanwhile, the ever-growing group of pranksters started to realize they may have made a

mistake.

“Shite” Sera exclaimed gesticulating at Cullen.

“I can’t believe we forgot him.” Dorian wondered while twirling his mustache.

“Don’t worry. Curly won’t figure it out. Besides, the Inquisitor could probly use a little

company right now.”

“No, it’ll only work if it’s just her.” Dorian explained.

“He’s right. We have to remove Cullen.” Leliana confirmed.

“I could just knock ‘em out. Nice and quick.” Iron Bull offered.

“Never one for subtlety were you.” Dorian shook his head.

“Worry. Knots turning in his stomach. She was strong for him and he wants to be strong

for her, but he doesn’t know how.” Everyone turned to Cole.

Shortly after the group had tied up Cullen and hidden him in a closet somewhere with the

little consolation that it was “all for the good of the Inquisitor.” The Inquisitor was clutching the

air in a panic, uncertain whether Cullen had really been there or had merely been a hopeful

hallucination. Lavellan decided to do another check of Skyhold to search for options of what to

do next. She discovered that there were no people, no weapons, no mounts, and that all the exits

had been sealed. All that was left were Skyhold’s building, some trees, and Solas’s desk. The

Inquisitor returned to the desk and picked up the teacup. It was warm as always, and she

wondered if people could hallucinate temperature. She sat against the desk and stared into the

little white teacup. She wondered what she would do if she could leave. She couldn’t run the

Inquisition by herself. She had no clan to return to. Damn shems. She would have to find new

weapons and advisors to search for her friends. She could climb over the wall, but she’d have no

horse, no bow, and no food.

The Inquisitor took a sip of the tea and barely felt it go down her throat.

“You’ve been drinking my tea, and you didn’t even ask. That’s unusually rude for you,

Lavellan.” A familiar voice bounced around the chamber. Lavellan took another sip of tea. Solas

walked around the desk until he was in front of the Inquisitor.

“Are you going to get up?” She looked at him and took another passive-aggressive sip of

tea. Solas sat down next to her against the desk. “I suppose I owe you an apology.”

Lavellan continued to look straight ahead and took another sip of tea.

“You really have nothing to say to me?” Solas felt a little hurt even though he knew he

had no right.

“I’ve decided not to talk to my hallucinations.” She took another sip of tea anooyed at

herself for talking to whom she was convinced was not really present.

Solas paused for a moment. Then he gently took the teacup from Lavellan and took a sip

of tea. Lavellan looked at him. “Do hallucinations take their tea from you, Inquisitor Lavellan?”

“No…” She sounded like she wanted to say more, but wasn’t sure what to say.

“Then I must be real.”

Lavellan narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, then she punched him. He flailed his

arms a little as he fell over. As an archer, the Inquisitor’s punch didn’t physically harm Solas, but

he certainly wasn’t expecting it. “Excuse me?”

“No.”

“What?”

“I said No.” You are not excused. How dare you. How dare you lie to me, leave me, and

then come back and pretend that nothing happened!”

“I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“You should be!” She snatched back the tea.

“I’m glad you like the tea.”

She looked at him while she took another sip.

“I’ve been using that teacup for a long time now.” She took another sip. “But I left it here

for you.” She lowered the teacup.

“Do you ever wash it?”

“Do I… You think I left you a dirty teacup?” Solas smiled a little at the absurdity of the

idea. “There are several enchantments on that teacup. One of which is a cleansing rune.”

Lavellan took another sip of tea. “Why did you leave?”

Solas sobered. “I did promise you an explanation. And I will give you one. Vhenan.”

The Inquisitor woke up, teacup still in hand. For a second she glanced around confused,

looking for Solas. She glared at the teacup. He left her. Again.

“How dare you” she angrily whispered at the teacup. “How dare you.”

The troublemakers looked on in concern as the Inquisitor then set down the teacup and

kicked the desk. She clenched her teeth to hide the pain in her foot. She glared down at the

teacup then shouted to no-one in particular “Magic nails! That’s why the desk is here!”

practically daring them to remove it. The Inquisitor picked up the teacup and sat in a tree

murmuring angrily at it.

The bard voiced her concerns to the tune of her song about Sera, “Sera never was the

brightest girl, and maybe this was a terrible plan. Perhaps we should help the Inquisitor.”

“She’s full of anger. He left her. Twice. But the teacup. He cares. But he left her. But the

teacup. She doesn’t understand. She wants solace and Solas but she has neither. She’s full of

anger. He left her. We left her. I don’t know if I can help her.” Cole looked at the others in

concern.

“Don’t worry.” Iron Bull commented. “She’s tough. One of the toughest people I know.

She’ll make it through this.”

“Are you sure?” Blackwall raised his concerns “It doesn’t seem like she’s going to be

better off after all this to me.”

“She’ll certainly appreciate us more” Sera added.

“Or she’ll hate us all” Leliana pointed out.

“Such an optimist.” Dorian commented. “I think she’ll last a little longer.”

Lavellan sat in a tree glaring at the teacup for many hours. She was angry. Solas had left

and considered this teacup a suitable replacement. However it was also the only form of

sustenance in Skyhold unless she wanted to eat the leaves of the tea. One of the many

enchantments on that teacup allowed Solas to sense the emotional state of the person using the

teacup. Another enchantment only allowed Solas and the Inquisitor to move the teacup. When he

got the message of angry, hungry, and annoyed at a teacup, he was rather puzzled. He realized he

had forgotten to ask Lavellan why she was upset when they met in the fade. He considered

meeting her in the fade again, but decided that would likely only make matters worse. He would

have to do this in person.

Inquisitor Lavellan was still sitting in the tree when she noticed the rocks in front of the

Skyhold main entrance being energized away. She gracefully leaped from the tree, teacup still in

hand, to get a better look. She almost tripped on a tree root, but she took a few extra steps to stay

upright and kept going as if it hadn’t happened.

Then she saw Solas. She stopped. The Inquisitor tried to sort out her feelings. On the one

hand, she was fairly certain she wouldn’t hallucinate him at present, so he was probably real. On

the other hand, he had left her twice, all her friends had left her, and if he really was present, how

long would it last? Just long enough to hurt her again?

She tentatively stepped forward.

“Solas.”

“Inquisitor.”

“I need answers.” The teacup shook ever so slightly in her tight grasp.

“Do you mind if we talk somewhere a little more private?”

At this point she wouldn’t have been surprised if the trees could eavesdrop, so she

gestured for him to lead the way and quietly told him to choose a spot. As they entered Skyhold,

Solas noticed a slight change in décor. “Inquisitor, what happened to all the furniture?”

“Assumedly the same thing that happened to all the people, horses, weapons, food, and

drinks.” There was an edge of bitterness in her voice.

“And what was that?”

“If I knew, I’d probably have shot it by now.”

The group trailing them took a step back and Dorian cast a barrier.

“With what?” Solas asked smiling a little.

She glared at him irritatedly. “I’d find a way.” Solas smiled; always persistent she was.

When they entered a tower of the ramparts Solas sealed the doors with magic.

“Wouldn’t want anyone following us.” Solas explained before they climbed up to the top

of the tower overlooking the snow-tipped mountains.

Meanwhile the group of troublemakers got stuck outside the door. Dorian failed to open

it with magic. Sera, Cole, and Varric failed to pick the lock. Iron Bull failed to knock down the

door.

“Shite! How’d he even know? It’s not like he saw us, yeah?” Sera complained.

“We have to hear that conversation to make sure this worked.” Dorian added.

“We could always climb the wall.” Varric suggested.

“It wouldn’t be as easy as it is in your books Varric.” Iron Bull commented.

“Hey kid, do you know what’s going on up there?” Varric tried again.

“They need to be alone he said. She doesn’t understand. They were alone. She doesn’t

trust herself. She doesn’t trust –. It – it’s gone. I think he wants us to leave.” Cole tried.

“Well, the wall it is, eh, boss?” Krem added.

After some argument of the best way to scale a wall, Iron Bull, Krem, Blackwall, Dorian,

Varric, Leliana, the bard, Sera, and Cole formed a precarious pyramid against the tower with

Sera and Cole at the top. They could barely hear the conversation.

“You were about to explain why you left me?”

“Ooh, she sounds angry!” Sera commented to a sea of shushing and Cole’s warning of

“Quiet! He’ll hear us!” It was too late.

Solas ever so slightly tapped his foot against the ramparts sending vibrations down the

walls.

“Shite!”

“I told you he’d hear us!”

The pyramid collapsed with a thud into a messy people pile although Cole was virtually

unscathed and Iron Bull only let Dorian fall most of the way down. Dagna and Harrit failed to

notice the crash and continued discussing craftable wall climbing devices.

The Inquisitor was too focused on Solas to notice the thud or the clamor of complaints at

the foot of the tower. She stared at Solas. “Go on.”

“I don’t know how to tell you this. I have never –

“Just say it.”

“What?”

“Just. Say. It. You left me. No explanation. If you trust me or care about me at all. Tell

me what’s going on straightforwardly.”

“Alright, I am the Dread Wolf.”

“Excuse me?” Lavellan dropped the teacup.

Solas caught it. It almost looked like he was bowing as he looked up at her and said “I am

Fen’harel.” He extended the teacup towards her. She accepted it and asked,

“So, where were you?”

“Trying to fix some terrible mistakes.”

“Did you?”

“No, not yet.”

“You’re going to keep trying though? To make the world a better place?” She smiled for

the first time in about two days.

“Yes” He hadn’t forgotten their conversation on that topic in the rotunda.

“And the orb?”

A long conversation ensued on the orb, his betrayal of the old gods in hopes of making a

better world, and a few scattered stories of a younger Solas. Eventually Lavellan asked

“How can I help?”

This question surprised Solas. It shouldn’t have, but it did. He thought of all the people

who prayed to the Dread Wolf and others for favors and protection. There had been none who

offered him help.

“A truly rare and wonderful spirit you are. I would not want to drag you into this.”

“You said you didn’t want to hurt me, was that true?”

“Yes, of course.”

“The best way to do that is to just be honest with me. I can’t help you if you don’t let me,

at least not effectively.”

“I would never forgive myself if you died helping me.”

“If I die, it will be the result of my choice. Let me at least have that.”

His face was grim as he agreed, “Alright.”

“Cheer up. Not everything’s your fault you know.”

“Is that so?”

“You’ve even improved people’s lives from time to time.”

“Really?” He sounded playfully skeptical.

“I seem to recall one such time in the fade at Haven. Although, it was so long ago,

perhaps you could refresh my memory?”

“I seem to recall you starting that Vhenan.”

“Sweet talker.”

The group at the base of the tower managed to get their pyramid back in order just in time

to see Lavellan and Solas kissing as the sun set behind the mountains.

“Ew, gross. They’re kissing.” Sera announced. The declaration was followed by laughter,

cheers, and a second collapse of the pyramid.

When Solas and the Inquisitor had stopped kissing he remembered his initial reason for

returning.

“Vhenan”

“Yes?”

“I have one other thing to tell you”

“What now? Do you turn into an actual wolf like some of the tales say?”

“That is not what I was going to say.”

“What were you going to say?”

“I think I know what happened to the furniture.” They looked over the edge of the tower

to see Sera, Dorian, Varric, Leliana, Iron Bull, Krem, the bard, Cole, Blackwall, Harrit, and

Dagna slightly drunk and toasting the rarest alcohols of Thedas to successfully upsetting the

Inquisitor enough for Solas to return. Until they noticed Lavellan looking down at them arms

crossed. Then there was a mix of drunk and nervous laughter and profuse apologizing.

Later as Cassandra examined her meticulously crafted doppelganger, Josephine panicked

at the state of Skyhold, and Vivienne discussed her not unpleasant time with a Dalish hunting

expedition, the Inquisitor sat on her throne holding her bow in one hand and fiddling with an

arrow in the other to the great unease of the pranksters before her. The room was somber as the

Inquisitor began,

“You have been charged with the mass theft and kidnapping of Skyhold’s residents,

quests, furnishings, and supplies. Do you have anything to say for yourselves?”

“It wasn’t my idea!” Sera exclaimed.

“Yes, it was.” Blackwall corrected.

“But you’re happy now. We got him back, and he makes you happy. Why are you saying

this?” Cole was confused.

Lavellan feigned indifference to their comments. “Solas.” She turned to her right to look

at him and stopped fiddling with the arrow.

“Yes, Vhenan?”

“They seem awfully glad you’ve returned. Perhaps you would honor them with a game of

Wicked Grace?” She smiled as audible gasps of horror filled the air before her feet.

“Certainly. I would be delighted to have such a welcome.”

Later Cullen managed to untie himself and stumbled out of a closet and into a game of

Wicked Grace with only one player fully clothed.

“No, not again!” Cullen ran out of the room and refused to play cards for at least a month

after. At which point much of Skyhold’s furniture had been fastened in place with magical nails,

namely the Inquisitor’s bed, beside which there often rested two heavily enchanted matching

teacups.