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Krem looked over the small room he’d managed to reserve for Lace’s grand return to Skyhold with a critical and exhausted eye. Every available space in the castle was currently occupied, by tradesmen and travelers and soldiers and the few remaining civilians that had sheltered there during the double Blight. But somehow Krem had managed to get the quartermaster to agree to swap a visiting merchant out of Lace’s old room from the Inquisition days, and then he’d convinced two of the Valo-Kas to help him wrangle one of their Qunari-sized beds into the room in place of Lace’s old cot.
Because, of course, Taash was coming with her.
The larger bed left hardly enough room to move around Lace’s small quarters, and the washstand prevented the wardrobe from opening completely, but the walls looked solid and the ceiling did not appear to be in danger of falling in, which was more than anyone could say for half the castle at the moment.
Skyhold had looked worse. Krem knew this because he’d seen it when the Inquisition first arrived, abandoned for centuries, full of rotting wood and mice and with its walls eroded by ivy and time.
Skyhold had also looked much better. After Corypheus was defeated, Ambassador Montilyet had her staff working overtime to get the castle prepared for the big celebration feast. When it was finally ready, the great hall really did look worthy of housing the heroes who had healed the breach in the sky.
After nearly a decade of quiet, it had gone from being mostly-shuttered in the wake of the Inquisition’s formal disbanding to active service once more as a stronghold against the double Blight. It survived the onslaught, and protected those who sought shelter within its walls, but barely.
Now it just looked battered, and bruised, and somehow tired in a way that a mighty fortress had no right to look.
Its remaining residents, however, were filled with life more than ever, and determined to bring Skyhold back to its former glory. Those soldiers who were no longer needed to stand guard against the Darkspawn attackers were now conscripted into a different war, against gravity itself, as Gatsi had them constructing scaffolding around any wall that lacked proper structural integrity.
Krem watched from his vantage point on top of the grand staircase as Gatsi orchestrated the relocation of one section of scaffolding from a restored area to the next that needed attention. Krem knew that his moment of idleness was fleeting, but he did not realize how fleeting when Gatsi caught sight of him, and immediately headed over with a determined look.
“Last outpost’s finished,” Gatsi said, without preamble.
Krem racked his memory of the tasks he had left undone and could not remember anything about the outposts.
Gatsi sighed, less than thrilled with his apparent lapse of memory. “Rylen was going to inspect it before the South trading route could be reopened, but with the delay he had to go back to Griffon Wing Keep, so now I need a sign-off.”
Krem opened his mouth to protest that he was supposed to have a few days off, and to direct Gatsi to ask Charter, or Barris, before remembering that they had both accompanied Grand Enchanter Vivienne to Val Royeaux to soothe some Orlesian feathers over the Inquisition’s stronghold being active once more.
With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Krem realized he was, somehow, the most senior member of the former Inquisition that was currently at Skyhold. He’d have to take time away from Harding during her visit to tramp through the snow just to look at some boring stone walls and sign some papers to prove that Gatsi’s team had done the same high quality of work they always did.
“I’ll go down early on Thursday.”
Gatsi frowned, and shook his head firmly, “Winter’s coming in, gotta get signoff before we can stock up the place for any traders coming through.”
Krem was about to protest, but then he saw the determination in Gatsi’s face. He sighed, “Tomorrow morning, then.”
Gatsi nodded, finding the compromise acceptable. Krem couldn’t find it in himself to begrudge the Dwarf for being insistent on finishing every repair perfectly. If Skyhold’s walls had been constructed with any less care, they would surely have fallen to the Blight.
Krem stuck his hands into his pockets and set off for the vendor stalls in the courtyard, hoping to find a small gift for Lace that might make up for his having to run out on her for most of the day after their reunion.
Krem waited by Skyhold’s gates in a way that he hoped appeared casual. He normally wasn’t nervous before seeing Lace, even when they had been apart for a long time, but this time was a bit different. For one thing, they had been apart for much longer than usual, and both been much busier with their work, and then there was the whole business of the world almost ending again.
And for the biggest complication, there was Taash.
Lace and Krem had never had a closed relationship, nor any expectation that either of them wouldn’t have serious romantic partners apart from each other, and that suited both of them quite well. But, for one reason or another, Krem had never had cause to meet anyone else that Lace dated. Her partners had heretofore been like characters in a story to Krem, people he read about in her letters, but never met, and who tended to eventually fade from Lace’s correspondence without too much fanfare.
Lace was quick to flirt, quick to laugh, but also very selective about those she allowed to actually get close to her. Krem knew that he was lucky to be one of those people, and now Taash was another. And this time, he was actually going to meet them.
He surprised himself by how much he cared what his metamour thought about him.
Krem already knew a lot about Taash, since Lace was always more than happy to write all about them in her letters, and Krem supposed that meant that Taash also knew quite a lot about him. He wondered what Lace had said about him, and then quickly decided that line of thinking was going to lead to nothing but more nerves.
When the pair finally arrived, Krem almost forgot entirely to be nervous. From the second he saw Lace’s smile he couldn’t help returning it. And, after Krem released her from his welcome embrace, he noticed the Qunari standing next to her, looking somewhat amused.
Lace had not minced words in her letters, and if Krem thought her glowing praises of Taash were perhaps a bit embellished, he no longer thought so. Taash was, indeed, “Tall as the Iron Bull, or maybe taller? But they don’t loom so much as he tends to and they’re not intimidating. Well, not purposefully.” They could also easily be described as “Soo good-looking that I forget to think before I speak.”
What Lace had not mentioned, and perhaps could not be communicated through letter-writing, was Taash’s manner. They had an easy confidence, a sureness in the way they carried themself, like someone who knew exactly what Lace had written about them in all her letters, and was totally okay with that.
Krem had expected to feel a little bit of jealousy of Taash when he met them. It was pretty much expected when Lace was able to spend so much time with Taash compared to time spent with him that he’d be a little envious. Upon seeing Taash, instead of envy, he really just wanted to congratulate Lace.
They nodded at him in greeting, “Hey.”
And with that, the nerves were back. Krem found himself talking way too much as he returned the greeting.
Lace nodded along cheerfully at everything, and began to lag behind the other two as she stopped to call out and wave to former Inquisition members that they passed.
Krem explained about the current state of Skyhold, the unfortunate fact that he would need to work tomorrow, and their room arrangements. This took about as long as it took the group to get to Lace’s old quarters.
“Okay,” said Taash, in response to this abundance of information, and without any inflection that would tell Krem how they felt about the room or Skyhold’s (and his) hospitality.
“Room’s a bit small, but you should see mine!” joked Krem. Then he added, “I mean, you don’t have to see my room, of course. That’s not…”
“Yeah, I know.” Their tone was still incredibly hard to read, but Taash was smiling a bit now, so Krem let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.
Lace appeared behind him, and immediately noticed the small pot of starry white flowers on the washstand. “Ohh, paperwhites!” she cooed, taking the few steps necessary to examine the plant.
“I tried to find something that was blooming,” Krem said, aware that the flowers were a bit wilty to give as a gift, but also pleased by Lace’s enthusiasm.
“And living,” added Taash. They were watching Lace hover over the flowers with the same look of affection that Krem knew was on his own face.
“Well, she doesn’t like cut flowers. Because they’re depressing.”
“I know,” said Taash again, but this time Krem could see that they approved.
Lace happily pretended not to hear her two partners discussing her preferences as if she was not in the room, and fussed over the little flower a bit more, giving it some of the water from the washstand.
“I’ll let you both settle in, I know you’re probably tired from travelling all the way here.” Krem thought to excuse himself before the situation became awkward.
“No,” said Taash, “I’ll settle in. Lace will go spend some time with you.”
That was a bit more forthrightness than Krem had expected from Lace’s other partner. He’d known Taash for all of a quarter of an hour and already he could see why Lace liked them.
They continued, “She hasn’t stopped talking about you for weeks. Go show her your tiny-ass room.”
Lace, for her part, was only too happy to leave the unpacking to Taash and was now nearly pushing Krem out of the room and into the hallway.
Looking down at her beaming and freckled face, having her here in the flesh after so long of having only her letters, any remaining thought he had to be polite to Taash, and not steal their girlfriend away immediately upon arrival, evaporated.
Krem barely looked where he was going as he led Lace down the only-slightly-crumbling hall. “It’s not that bad,” he said, in defense of his new quarters, “Much better than a bedroll in a tent, at least.”
Lace giggled, then hummed, “Hmmm, are you saying you have a proper bed now?”
Krem knew he was blushing, he always ended up doing that around Lace, even though he hadn’t felt embarrassed or anxious around her for the years they’d been together. “It’s a bit narrow, but comfortable enough.”
“Oh, I’m sure it will be just lovely,” Lace looped her arm through Krem’s and drew him in close to her side as they walked through the busy castle.
The small gesture of affection was officially the end of Krem’s intention to not put on a grand romantic reunion scene in public. He drew Lace into a doorway off the great hall and bent to kiss her as he had been thinking about for months.
She melted into his arms, as comfortable and comforting as if she had never left, and returned the kiss with all the sweetness he remembered.
If passers-by giggled or whooped at the pair, Krem did not hear them.
True to his word, Krem left Skyhold, and Lace, with great reluctance the next morning. Lace insisted on waking up for the day along with him, even though it was clear she was more than a bit tired from travel and a late night.
He buckled on his armor hurriedly, and lingered only for a little while to watch Lace brush out and braid her hair before he left her with a lingering kiss at the door of his quarters.
Lace said, with a wink, that she would be off to find Taash and “keep them out of trouble!” And Krem set off into the freezing morning cold to hike down a mountain as fast as he reasonably could.
He cursed the cold and Gatsi and his own sense of responsibility with every step he took. Why did Rylen have to run off and leave him in charge of this task? Why did Gatsi have to be so damned insistent on doing everything perfectly and delay the construction until now? Why did he agree to take responsibility for completing the outpost project, anyway? Why was it so important that he sign this paper today? Why was it so cold??
He made good time to the southern basecamp, and didn’t even slip on the many frozen puddles of mud that dotted the trail down. Krem thought, fleetingly, about half-assing his review of the work, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to do that. After all they had been through, keeping every part of Skyhold safe was something Krem could never skimp on.
The wind picked up while he checked every window and every door and every seal in the roof, until it was nearly howling outside.
When, finally, Krem was finished with the inspection, he finally opened the heavy front door to a view of blinding white.
The winter snows were here earlier than expected.
He pushed the door closed again, walked back to the main room of the outpost, and sat down heavily in a dust-sheet-covered chair.
He groaned in annoyance, and the chair groaned with his weight.
There was no way Krem was getting back up the mountain today.
Luckily, the outpost was already half-stocked with firewood and dried provisions from the carpenters and stonemasons who had been working there through the fall, so Krem wasn’t too worried about having to stay overnight, but he was in very real danger of dying from boredom and self-recrimination.
A mountain away, Lace was probably sitting in the Herald’s Rest, and wondering what was taking him so long, and probably worrying.
And Taash would be there, too, and Krem tried hard not to think about the awful first impression he was making on them now.
He had worked so hard to make everything just perfect for Lace and Taash’s visit to Skyhold, and of course everything had to go wrong. Now he was stuck here for hours with nothing to do but watch the fireplace crackle, listen to the wind howl, play solitaire with a battered deck of cards he found in a cabinet, and feel a bit sorry for himself.
The fire was low, and Krem was dozing in his chair when the big doors flew open with a bang.
He was up on his feet in a moment, and reaching for his warhammer, when he recognized the towering figure that was ducking through the doorway.
Taash shook a crown of snow off of their horns and shoulders and backpack as they smirked at him. “I told you he’d be fine,” they called over their shoulder.
Lace brought in even more snow, practically tumbling through the drifts. She didn’t even bother to try and leave the snow outside before rushing over and throwing herself into Krem’s arms.
Her armor was freezing cold against him, and the snow clinging to her hair was soaking his shirt, but he didn’t mind any of that. “You came through the snow?”
“Lace was worried,” Taash said, by way of explanation, as they shoved the door closed against the wind. The cold air steamed hot around their words.
Lace pulled away from Krem, and fixed him with her sternest look. “You were seven hours late! Of course I worried!”
“Five,” corrected Taash, fairly, “Then we decided to go after you. Took us a while to get down here in the snow.”
Krem looked down at Lace, “I got snowed in?” he tried. He also tried to look properly chastened instead of thrilled beyond belief to have her company while stuck in this outpost. “We weren’t expecting the snows to come so soon…”
Lace accepted his explanation with a firm nod. “Well, that’s why we brought food, and blankets, and more warm clothes for you.”
“And an unnecessary amount of healing potions,” Taash added.
“Well, I was worried!,” Lace turned back to Krem, “You could have been hurt! Or freezing to death! Or…”
Krem gathered Lace back into his arms. “I’m sorry that I made you worry.”
Her response was muffled against his collar.
“I also brought this,” said Taash, holding up a brilliant blue bottle from their pack.
It was the Rivaini brandy that Krem had managed to get as a welcoming gift for them, and had left with the new bartender at the Herald’s Rest.
They uncorked the bottle with their teeth, and began pouring into three travel cups. “It’s better when you drink it together,” Taash explained, when Krem tried to demur, and insist it was meant as a present for them.
Lace took her cup readily, and tapped it against Krem’s as if they were using fine crystal. “Being snowed in is more fun when you’re together, too,” she said, grinning up at him.
Krem and Taash found no fault in her logic.