Dragon Age Inquisition Imagines

The Quiet One (Pt. 1)

Hey, hi, hello! Man its been awhile, and I'm sorry for that. Things have been kinda hard lately, and I haven't had time to write. Can't  believe this is up to 4.68k reads!! Thank you guys so much, I never thought that many people would ever read what I've written! Thank you again! Now, onto the imagine!

Walking out of the stables, I look around, gazing around at the large community that has grown up out of Skyhold, out of the Inquisition. 'It's so large now,'. I hear a creak and a pop ahead of me on the path. Glancing up I realize a man and his cart were barreling right towards me, the merchant unable to see me over the towering boxes on the cart. I move swiftly, my muscles tensing simultaneously, and the wind rushing past me as I roll out of the way. Rolling up into a crouch, and slowly standing, I watch the cart roll by, the merchant whistling happily as if nothing happened. 'Bloody merchants and their ignorance.'

I sigh, and then suddenly tense again, my body rigid, the hairs on the back of my neck standing and my ears twitching back slightly, trying to take it all the sounds I can. I hear the crunch of a boot on dry dirt,  a hand running across the stone wall. 'Who's watching me?'

I turn, searching the shadows along the wall for the stalker. I'm met by no one, no shadow, no body, nothing.

I stand still, watching the shadows for any movement. "Watcha looking at Boss?" Bull says from behind me. I jump, heart racing, and look up at the Qunari towering above me. "Oh! Nothing! Have a good day!" I rush out, scurrying away from the large man, finding somewhere as far away as possible. Leaning against the stone wall separating the courtyards, I look down, watching a confused Iron Bull scratching the back of his neck and looking around, no doubt trying to figure out where I went.

Sighing, I sink down behind the bushes, holding my hand to my chest, my heart racing beneath my fingers. 'Why must I be so.. unable to socialize?' I think back to my roots in the forest. The calm, dark, towering trees, my clan all around me, but never seeing me. They never talked to me. And I wasn't allowed to talk to them. Our keeper forbade it.. Growing up I never learned how to speak with people, just how to respond enough to get them to leave without asking anymore questions. To get them to overlook that I existed most of the time. To keep them from knowing what was happening to me. But here? I can't do that. Not as much at least. Being Inquistitor means that I have to lead, I have to talk. I can't be the small quiet child I was in my clan. They expect me to talk, socialize, but.. can I? 

Sighing, I place both hands on the ground, pushing myself up. Moving around the bushes, I sweep my gaze across the grounds, a habit I've never quite gotten out of. Checking my surroundings, making sure I know my escape route if needed. Cassandra is practicing, slicing bits and pieces off of the dummy with long graceful swings. Bull was making his way back into the tavern, most likely to get piss drunk again. Deciding that now was probably a good time to go, I walk around the bush, only to hear "GOTCHA!" And then to be shoved to the ground by weight from above.

"What the-," I get out, face planted in the dirt and dried up grass. I try pushing myself up, only to realize the weight was still on top of me and not moving. "Um... do you think you could let me up now?" I squeak out around the grass coating my tongue.

"I think that's the most I've heard you speak," I hear. With a chuckle the weight moves and I'm able to turn over on my back. Looking up, I can make out pointy ears and blonde hair from the glare of the sun. "Oh come on shorty," she says, grabbing my arm and hauling me up on my feet. "Pft. Shorty."

I look up at the blonde elf, she's taller than me, not much, but enough that I have to look up to her. "Sorry," I mumble, turning and walking away. I head towards my room, Sera trailing behind me for some reason. Once at the door leading from the main hall to my quarters, I pause, leaving my hand on the door knob. Turning I look at Sera. Her hands are tucked behind her back, her lips pursed, a soft tune escaping, and she was rocking back and forth on her feet, looking every where but at my face. "What do you want?"