“…That’s it?” Cassandra peered from behind the Qunari, who was holding the Ardent Blossom in her large, calloused grey hands.
The Inquisitor was completely still. The veilfire’s light caused shadows to flicker around her face, making Adaar look demonic.
The shadows under her green eyes loomed ominously, while her optics were focused on Ardent Blossom.
“Perhaps there was a misunderstanding?” Dorian gave his two scents from behind, stroking his moustache carefully, but the Qunari said nothing.
Normally, Cole would come along, but he wasn’t feeling too well (being human was still something to get used to,) so Varric awkwardly twiddled his thumbs and cleared his throat.
“I don’t think the creator of this helmet had a Qunari in mind to wear it, Blondie. Such is the shitbag of a world we live in.”
“It’s not that,” Adaar snapped, still staring at the crown of flowers in her hand and biting her bottom lip in frustration. She was not angry, but annoyed…miffed…okay, she was a little bit angry.
“I jumped up and down on a fucking rock fifty times for this,” she growled softly.
“Half of the crystal grace we gave that tiny hole was from my own collection…”
“We can always gather more,” Dorian inputted, knowing how much Adaar liked to smoke Crystal Grace.
The blonde’s hands tightened their grip on the Ardent Blossom.
“Even after all of the shit that happened at The Emprise, we are back here to see what the fuck that voice was on about! We go down Maker knows how many flights of friggin’ stairs, and all that’s at the bottom is this?!” She brandished the helmet as sparks of lightning flew from her staff.
Adaar’s connection to storm magic was strong enough that this happened whenever she had a burst of emotions. Dorian bit his lip, catching Cassandra’s worried gaze. Neither had seen The Inquisitor this upset over a simple helmet.
Their thoughts ceased when a rumbling was heard from above, echoing throughout the dark chamber.
“That sounded like Behemoths, there must be more up top,” Varric grumbled as Dorian clapped a hand on Adaar’s shoulder.
“Tamsin, we have to get rid of them. Perhaps Dagna can find out more about it?”
“Yes, that dwarf’s hands are magic in their own right,” Cassandra unsheathed her sword, and Varric chuckled at what she had said.
“Shut it, dwarf,” was the sharp response.
Adaar sighed and stuffed the helmet away, then got out her staff and readied herself to face the Behemoths.
No matter how many times she visited The Emprise, The Inquisitor would never get used to the freezing cold. She was still shaking the melted snow from her hand and rubbing her arms for warmth as Dagna observed the Ardent Blossom.
“Whoever made this is amazing!” she grinned, turning the helmet over and over within her tiny fingers.
Tamsin leaned against the wall, arms folded as she observed the Dwarf’s eyes light up: a child during her first time at the market.
“Is it of any use though?” The Inquisitor asked in a flat voice. Dagna continued to examine the crown, and shrugged.
“Hmm...Whoever made this just wanted to look pretty, so much that if they wear it, there’s more sunder on hit, but otherwise, no.”
“So, I wasted my time,” Adaar muttered, angrily running a hand through her blonde hair and biting down on her bottom lip again. The golden barbell beneath the centre of her bottom lip glinted in the light as she did so. Dagna raised an eyebrow and smirked.
“Are you annoyed that it doesn’t fit, TJ?”
Green eyes flashed as The Inquisitor choked on her own breath and scoffed.
“Of course not! Wh-why would I be jealous of a stupid flower crown?!”
“You’re absolutely right, TJ. How silly of me,” Dagna snickered, then handed the Ardent Blossom back to Adaar.
“I’ll leave it with you to do as you like, but if you want me to tinker, just say the word.”
The Inquisitor was still grumbling over the Ardent Blossom while she read Leliana’s latest report in her quarters.
Feet up on the table and leaning on the back of her chair, there was a roll of crystal grace hanging from her mouth (one of the last ones, seeing as she had to give the majority of the herb up to that pathetic shit of a cave.)
“We could have found more shards, opened the next door at the temple in the Oasis,” she thought, her fingers curling in anger around the parchment that had Leliana’s neat cursive imprinted.
“Red Templars could have been dealt with, or even investigating if that Fairbanks man is a noble or not! Why did we waste time on a stupid flower crown that can fit everyone but me?!”
With a growl of frustration, Adaar let a bolt of lightning crack down against the floor.
The drapery rustled from the force, and once the noise of lightning faded, all that was heard was the Inquisitor’s heavy breathing through her nostrils.
One of her feet had slammed against the ground, one still on the table.
The report from the spy master was crumpled in her right hand, and the anchor glowed.
“Inquisitor?”
The blonde nearly toppled off her chair as a familiar voice came into earshot. Her mercenary reflexes came into play, and she caught herself awkwardly.
Tamsin’s left leg was still on the table as her left arm was backwards on the ground. The report was now on the ground and completely forgotten about.
“J-Josephine!” The Inquisitor gasped, straightening up and shaking her blonde hair out of her face.
The Ambassador stood at the top of the stairs, clipboard in hand and resting on her right heel.
“Is everything alright? The crack of lightning sounded as I was on my way to your quarters and I thou-”
She stopped midsentence as her hazel optics caught the smouldering black scorch on the ground in the centre of the room. Adaar choked on her words again, and sheepishly twiddled her thumbs.
“I…um…got a little annoyed at something…”
Josephine let a grin quirk at the corner of her lip as she walked towards her lover.
“May I ask what, exactly? We did have a talk about lightning in your quarters,”
“I know, and I’m sorry. It just slipped…” The Inquisitor was a child in trouble whenever Josephine addressed scenarios like this.
They had been courting for nearly two years, and The Antivan was the only one who had any real power over the blonde mage.
“A-Anyway, it’s just this stupid helmet we found,” Adaar narrowed her eyes at the Ardent Blossom, which was sitting on top of the fireplace. Josephine followed her lover’s gaze, and smiled at the crown of flowers.
“Ah, is this the famed Ardent Blossom that has displeased you?” she asked, walking over to the fireplace to take the crown in her hands. Blonde eyebrows went down as emerald eyes rolled.
“Yes, that’s it. Complete waste of my time,” Adaar grumbled, folding her arms and shifting her weight onto her left leg. Josephine eyes the flowers that formed the crown, and stroked them delicately with her thumbs.
“It is beautiful, may I just say,” her voice was breathy as she became transfixed with the object.
Seeing Josephine hold the crown gave Tamsin an idea.
She gently walked forward to stand in front of the human woman.
“May I try something?” she asked quietly, hands snaking around the Ardent Blossom. Josephine looked up at the Qunari, and nodded.
Adaar let a grin quirk onto her lip as she every so carefully took the crown from Josephine’s light fingers.
“Would you please let your hair down, Kadan?”
Puzzlement flickered in Josephine’s hazel eyes as she undid her bun.
The waterfall of thick, black hair cascaded down her shoulders, and was brushed lightly with her fingers.
Tamsin’s heart couldn’t help but flutter at the sight.
“You’re staring again, Tamsin,” Josephine giggled. The blonde chuckled, and shook her head.
“Sorry, you’re just so breathtaking and stunning,”
“And you need to stop with the flattery,” Josephine smiled, as The Inquisitor carefully placed the Ardent Blossom upon Josephine’s head.
It was a perfect fit, and when Tamsin moved back to observe her work, she was grinning from ear to ear. Josephine looked lovely, and the blush that formed across her cheeks made her picturesque.
“Andraste’s thighs,” Adaar whispered, and Josephine’s blush deepened.
“Can we ban flattery, too?”
“No chance in the fade, Josie,” Tamsin grinned, placing a light kiss on the Antivan’s forehead.
“I thought it was a complete waste of time, and it doesn’t fit me- but seeing it on you makes jumping on that stupid rock fifty times absolutely worth it.”
Josephine giggled and wrapped her arms around the mage’s waist.
“So just because it does not fit on your head, you are giving it to me?”
“I never said that,”
“It is implied, my love,”
The Inquisitor let out a light huff, and captured Josephine’s lips with her own.
The thought of a Qunari being bitter over not being able to wear a flower crown was completely and utterly ridiculous.