And as we wind on down the road

[faderifting]

WHO: Open to all
WHAT: The Herald of Andraste is laid to rest, and the remains of the Inquisition try to put on a good face for their visitors. Some of them try, anyway.
WHEN: Harvestmere 26
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: n/a

The day after the mysterious strangers from the rift arrive, the Herald's body is delivered back to Skyhold. At first, there is doubt-- the timing is convenient, finally found the very day the funeral is to take place, and many still cling to hope that the Herald has somehow survived. Most, but not all, are appeased by news that the Inquisition's chief advisers have all confirmed the identity of the deceased. Preparations are accelerated: what was once to be a symbolic memorial now requires actual rites, and while some prepare the body others break down whatever can be spared for the pyre, constructed in the center of the main courtyard by another crew.

The funeral itself is a somber affair, as funerals generally are. The Great Hall has been cleared and swept but little else-- all attendees stand, and they are lucky it is a clear day, since the late afternoon sun streams in through the gaping holes in the roof. The service proceeds along strictly traditional Andrastian lines, stately and stiff. Mother Giselle provides the service and the sermon, focusing on duty, sacrifice, and the Maker's plan and concluded with a recitation of Transfigurations 10:1 by the whole assemblage. It is all very predictable, but sincerely delivered. Cassandra and Cullen lead the honor guard. It is a mismatched collection of visiting dignitaries, suspicious observers, pilgrims, colleagues, and companions that slowly process up to pay their silent respects as Evelyn Trevelyan lies in state. Some may notice that the body has been carefully arranged to disguise the fact that her left hand is gone. As night falls they light candles and then the pyre, and as the flames catch and lick up toward the star-washed sky, Mother Giselle sings a haunting version of the Chantry hymn The Dawn Will Come.

The wake that follows is less staid. It seems as if every table and chair in the castle has been dragged into The Herald's Rest and the courtyards and every hidden store of fine wine and food has been dug out from Josephine's secret stores to impress the more exalted visitors. This isn't just a funeral, after all, but a political occasion, an opportunity to demonstrate that the Inquisition lives on beyond the loss of its first symbolic leader, and that it can still be a force for peace and unity.

That impression is dented as the night wears on, and opinions and stories get shared more and more loudly. Someone hops up on a table to give their own little eulogy and others follow suit. Of course eventually it turns sour-- a templar gets up and starts blaming the mages for killing the Herald just like they killed the Divine, and mages at the next table shout back. He's hauled down before things can escalate, but grumbling and dirty looks are unlikely to be the last of it.

The event carries on into the wee hours, and noise echoes around the stone walls loudly enough to make it difficult for any to sleep early. One team of Inquisition scouts and soldiers comes out of the barn to complain more than once, and eventually move their bedrolls down into a basement hall, growling about how they have to be up at the crack of dawn to head out on a mission to scout some Maker-forsaken bog of all the places. (Mire, one of them corrects.)

Comments

[lacere]

[It does give her a little deja-vu, and she smiles absently at the memory. She'd been so driven then, so determined, still quite new to the cause but ready to serve and make a difference. So much time - and so little - had passed since then, and though she had tried, whether her efforts had lasting affect beyond 'Herald, this is what I've found out about this place you're going next, good luck' was something she hadn't stopped to assess - not properly.]

I do want to believe that. Just as Evelyn made us all believe in the first place - all of us, no matter who we were, where we came from.

[Really, who could have imagined such a force mere months ago? It was still fledgling, absolutely, still lacked backing and still had its inner turmoil, but it was something. They could thank the Herald for bringing it together, but it was in their hands to do something with the gift she had given them.

She exhales.] And I'm not going anywhere until this is over. [Not that she'd consider leaving, not even for a moment, not if this lasts long beyond the foe they face. The Inquisition is, and always will be, her priority.]

[amygdalae]

[So many of them here, all together, a force unlike what many had ever seen before. Bruce knows how special all of this is, which is why its all the more important that they had to keep on moving even after that - to make sure that they succeed in what they came here for. Otherwise, everything would have been for naught.

Bruce gives her a smile at her last words, clearly pleased with hearing that.] I'm sure your excellent scouting skills will be much needed now, more than ever. [Though there may be no more Herald Harding's own work still remains equally important, and people have always benefited from what she delivers. The future will be no different.]

[lacere]

I'm sure someone will have need for them before long. Kinda indispensable.

[Harding smiles. Kind of is an understatement. It's really only by virtue of the funeral being today that she's not joining the scouts down towards the mire, which, for today, she's glad for.

She looks to Bruce, smile replaced by curiosity.] And you, Bruce? How long are you going to stay?

[amygdalae]

Very indispensable.

[He smiles once again. Harding will always be an important part of this thing, Bruce knows. And in a way, he's glad for her about that. She performs very well in what she does, and no doubt things will improve from there.

At the question, Bruce simply sort of... shrugs.] As long as the Inquisition still has people that need be healed. [Which, he supposes, will be a thing for a while--but of course he knows he can't stay here forever. The most he guesses is once the threats of Corypheus and such is settled. Once the dust clears on that, then he'll see what to do next.]