The sun streams down across the floor was it rose above the mountaintops. “Ahh” a soft groan forms out of her mouth as she started to awake from her dream world. Gripping the blanket Ain pulls it close as if trying to tell the waking world to go away but as morning came so did the light. “Fine Fine I'll get up. “ She says to the empty room around her. She pressed her hand under her pushing herself up and sliding to the edge of the four-post Ferelden bed. Leaning over she put her elbow on her knee looking at what was left of her left hand and arm with a longing sigh. It was hard to believe it was three months now. Three months since the winter palace. Three months since her world was shattered. Standing up she made her way to the draws to get dress as she pulled out the prosthetic and started to strap it on before sliding out her shirt. She knew she had to leave Skyhold sooner or later but it was hard.

She looked at herself in the mirror and looked a mess. It was easy to see that she had been hardly getting any rest. She had slept a lot but her every dream was spent searching for him and her every day spent working with the Chantry that was taking over Skyhold or receiving messages from the scouts seeking Fen'Harel. But even with all of the searching they still have not come up with anything.

She reached to brush through her long auburn hair looking as a knock came from the door. "Harald Breakfast is served in the dining hall." A scout shouted from the other side. The sudden sound broke her out of her trance as she responded back. "I'll be right down. She finished her dressing route as she went to breakfast.

Astrid

The world around me is dark and cold. So cold. I reach out for the candle next to me but found nothing. No candle. No table. No bed. No anything. I was floating. No. No, I was falling. Falling down, into an abyss. I screamed for help but none came. Where am I? Where is this? Where? Why?

I shot up in my bed and looked around my room frantically. Same, dull room. Same light streaming through the window to hit my mother's chest perfectly. Same musty air from the thousands of raids that the village has suffered. And, unfortunately, same prissy girls who were just waiting for me to leave my bed and go into town for them to poke their fun at me and my "odd ways". Great.

I shook off the self doubt and started to get up and prepare for the day to come. Corsets, gowns, shoes and all. And hair. Oh, how I hate to pull my blond locks up into the tight embrace of a bun.

Going out into the street, I noticed that it was smoggier than usual. The air was denser and the people fewer. There must have been another raid, I thought.

Oliver was suddenly aware of the offensive sunlight filtering in through his window. The knight grunted, shutting his journal and placing the lid back on his ink well. He leaned back in his chair, the old-oak creaking slightly as he raised his bare hands up to rub at his eyes before finally scooting away from the desk and exiting his room.

As usual, the air in Skyhold was cold, due to altitude, and it crept through the stonework, but luckily the knight was wearing a long sleeve shirt with a leather long coat, and soon enough he would be in the much more warm dining hall.
Ser Oliver was snapped from his daydream about ale and eggs by two Inquisition troops snapping a crisp salute, to which he half-assed returned.
He was never much for formalities. An unfortunate aspect of knighthood or nobility. He sure as hell wasn't born for this, but he definitely earned his title through blood and sweat.
Morgen, if you're watching. I hope you're proud of me, he thought to himself, barely noticing two more guards opening the twin doors to the dining hall. He nodded to both of them before passing by and taking a seat somewhat closer to the Inquisitors "throne". The knight didn't have much of an appetite, but he went straight for the growler filled with some kind of ale on the table, pouring a tankard and sitting back in his chair, simply observing as the Hall began to fill.

Sure has been one hell of a time, he thought passively as he took a gulp from the tankard.

Ain'findiel stopped right before the door that leads to the grand hall gripping the handle as she took a deep breath. "Time to face the public again." Slowly she stepped out of the side room beside the throne as she turned and made her way down the few steps to the dining area. She moved down the aisle as a few of the still loyal guards stood to salute but were greeted with her hand asking them to stop. She was longer anything special. As she moved through the hall her eyes drifted to the door to the rotunda. She shook her head turned from it as she moved through the side door to the kitchen. She relaxed once more as she moved into the darken staircase. It was so tiring to keep up the mask that nothing was bothering her. She started to understand why the Orlesian' wore those ridiculous mask all the time.

She stepped into the kitchen nodding to the kitchen staff as she moved and grab one of the sweet rolls they were laying out and a mug of tea before turning to leave. She was never one for a heavy breakfast. She moved back through the hall heading to the garden. She sighed hearing the sisters out in the garden sister chanting. It seemed they had already taken over the garden completely. In here heart it just seemed wrong for the chant to be here, this place belonged to her people. It belonged to her. She didn't want to deal with that not today. Turning she headed back into hall moving to the table where the other soldiers were. She slides into a seat next to the soldiers as focusing on the meal and thinking of what to do next. She could return to Mythal's temple. There was a lot of work to be done there. She felt sick not wanted to leave this place but yet most what kept her here was all gone.

Many would, (And many did) have an issue with an Elf leading an army almost exclusively made up of humans. But like most of the Inquisition, Ser Oliver didn't give a damn. Personally, he believed that Man, Elf and Dwarf are seen as equals to the Maker, and his belief came from a simple idea: If any of the three races could breed and train efficient leaders, soldiers and endear master craftsman among them, then what difference was their really besides the obvious physical traits?

These thoughts crept through his mind as he passively watched the Herald of Andraste move amongst the common soldiers in the Hall, taking a seat amongst them as if she were less than the leader of the most powerful faction in Thedas.
Ser Oliver smirked. It was damn hard not to like her.

The Knight rose from his seat, tankard still in hand and approached Ain'Findiel, taking a seat across from her.

"You look troubled, Herald", he said after a moment, watching his leader carefully.

The hall was quieter than normal. More proof that more had left Skyhold. Sadly more as the scouts and soldiers were being replaced by Chantry sisters and clerics. What was she thinking? To disband the inquisition. Why did she let Leliana talk her into giving Skyhold over to the Chantry? She felt as she let her people down letting by handing over Fen'harel's castle over to the shems. Fen'Harel uugg why could she have not seen it before. How did she fall under his sway so easy.

Ain seemed lost in her own thoughts as she pulled the roll apart as shoved the piece roll past her lips. Her eyes turned to the rotunda's door like it was a foreboding cave with like a beast hiding inside. She was so lost in her thought she did not hear the knight that had rose and sat down across from her. Suddenly his voice broke through her thoughts. The slender petite form of the elf jumped with a start. She put her good hand on her chest. It took a moment for her to register who, what, where. She shot a deer in the headlights look across the table at the kind knight that joined her.

Steadying herself she shot a kind smile across the table at the knight who came to check on her. "Oh Ser Oliver, Good morning. Troubling me? Oh no, nothing is troubling me. Why would something be troubling me." The creators, she was such a terrible liar. Of course, she was troubled. She has seen what the world truly was and knew what was in store if she failed to find Him in time. It was hard to be the only one that knew the truth. She had not even shared the full details with anyone else by Leliana and she was off being Divine now.

Ain reached up and played nervously with her hair that had fallen over her shoulders when she jumped. The lack of rest was visible across her face. Deep circles under her eye and a weaken demeanor made it hard to hide the stress she was under.

Ser Oliver watched Ain'Findiel, and not that he had to do it carefully. The Herald of Andraste was known for being a great warrior and gave several factions across a handful of nations a common cause to unite under one banner. Lying was not one of her skills, obviously.
To be honest. he doubted she was the Champion of Andraste, but that didn't matter. He had followed her precisely because she was not a politician. And personally, he had hoped to see the Inquisition maintain its presence. Thedas could use a faction with such a coveted leader at its helm. He had dreamt of the Inquisition becoming a force with no allegiances. Specifically existing as a peacekeeping force between different nations.
Alas, the Chantry had other plans, and since the end of "war", the other factions had grown wary of the Inquisition's presence, while others still had wanted to control it.

The knight leaned back, raising his tankard in slow thought to his lips before taking a drink and setting it back down.

"I know. Losing...", he took a deep breath. "...All of this. All we...you accomplished is heartrending. I was here at the start. When you were brought to our measly camp after the old Divine was killed in that explosion. I hoped to see the Inquisition stay". He couldn't hide the fact that his broad shoulders slumped.

"Many, such as myself do not know what our next move would be. The Inquisition was to be my final stop, so to speak", the seasoned knight explained, watching the Herald as he spoke.

"What will you do at the end of everything you've worked for?"

Ain'Findeil looks across to the older knights eyes. She should see the sorrow in his eyes. She had let him down and many like him who believed in her. She was fooled by the one she loved. She lost more than she felt she could bare but she knew she must take up arms even if it was secret to keep the people safe.

“I am sorry I let you down. I let so many down. It was too much to risk. They were afraid. They thought we were going to take over.” Her eyes betrayed and showed that the fight was over not by a long shot. She sat down her roll feeling the loss of appetite. She hoped he believed the public reason behind the disband but the fight was far from over. She didn't know who she could trust with the truth. She barely could believe the truth and she was the only one that seen it first hand. I mean would he really believe she meets a god. They all had, living right beneath their noses. She couldn't help but turn her eyes back to the rotunda's door she still didn't go in there after all these months and it loomed over her like a huge shadow.

Turning her eyes back to the experienced soldier. She had to admit perhaps he would be useful in the days to come if he chooses to stay. “So are you retiring after this when you leave?” This was a good of a reason as any to change the subject. She reached back rubbing the back of her head with her good hand. “You should not worry about me. I have been offered two places to call my own. The Empress gave me the Arbor Wilds and the temple there as my own. Or perhaps I could go to Kirkwall. I have been offered a home there.”

She stood up as more people come into the main hall. “I think I need some air. Would you like to come walk with me?” She offered if he likes to talk more perhaps it would be better with fewer ears and without the memory of him looming over her.