faderift | You know I said it in a prayer like a war cry

WHO: KREM and basically THE ENTIRETY OF SKYHOLD
WHAT: Krem is coming back from his private mission in Antiva and fulfilling some promises.
WHEN: 18 Wintermarch and onward
WHERE: Various places about Skyhold
NOTES: Attractive shirtless men?

He was stiff, sore, not exactly moving well, but when he finally mounted the stone bridge leading into Skyhold, damned if the smile on Krem's face wasn't as brilliant as the glare of sunlight on the snow. It was damned good to be home. He'd held up a hand when one of the front gate guards offered to run inside and inform the Iron Bull of his return, letting them know that he would be seeing Bull himself, as well as most anyone else that needed to know he was home.

As soon as all was said and done and the appropriate parties warned (Except for Cullen, Cullen could be just as surprised as everyone else) the toys would be collected, loaded en mass into the catapult, and seconds later, there would be stuffed toy nugs in a large variety of different fabrics hitting the ground with squeaks bordering on deafening in volume from the sheer amount of them. There would be enough for every child in the hold, plus a good portion of the adults that might come along and pick them up.

-Training Ring-

It was time for drills now. He had the ring to himself, most people were off and occupied elsewhere, and someone had set up a practice dummy at the edge of the ring that would make the perfect partner for a bout of shadow boxing.

Anyone that had ever witnessed Krem's drills before knew that sound: the maul swinging through the air fast enough for it to be faintly whistling, occasionally thudding down into the dirt. But if they approached, they'd immediately notice a difference. Where was Krem's armor?

Bracers on, boots grinding into the dirt, gauntlets on, but other than a pair of comfortable breeches, Krem wasn't actually wearing his armor. In the late afternoon light, the muscles of his arms, back, shoulders, and chest were gleaming faintly with sweat. He'd been at this for a little bit now, and it had warmed up just enough that he actually could break into a sweat as he trained. He was still trying to get used to his center of gravity changing, and as such was moving more carefully than usual. It lent a sort of grace to his movements that wasn't usually present.

If anyone wanted to come and spar with him now, they would have to get his attention first. He's entirely focused on the mild ache of his muscles, and moving to compensate.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Soon as there are enough people in the courtyard and I've had the chance to talk with Bull face-to-face. We sort of had a talk over the crystals before." He grimaces at that, remembering how that talk had gone, leaving him feeling like he was the one that was being unreasonable. Bull was good at making him feel like that, whether it be regarding the company he kept or the fights he wanted to be a part of.

That grimace earns him a look of surprised concern from Korrin; those two have always gotten along well, as far as she's aware. The mutual ribbing doesn't count, and she doubts that would get Krem to make that expression anyway. "Not a good one, I take it? Are you alright?"

"It...wasn't bad, but Bull's got this way of saying things that makes whatever your train of thought was seem really stupid. I asked him to see you, told him not to talk down to you, and he was just... Did that are you stupid? did you forget what we're doing here? thing." He frowns more deeply, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting back, leaving his drink there on the table in front of him. Pouting child is a pretty appropriate simile here.

Korrin naturally tenses a bit at mention of Iron Bull talking to her directly, not about to start anything for Krem's sake but still not about to trust the Qunari. But for now she pushes her own feelings aside since that pouting gets to her, and she moves over enough to slip her arm around his shoulders, drawing him in. Krem deserves some comforting if he got all riled up for her sake.

"Thanks for standing up for me, Krem. I know you mean well and he'd better know it, too. He wouldn't have you as his second if he didn't trust your judgment. Like I said before, I can be civil for your sake. I don't want you to start thinking the lot of us are just waiting to jump him."

Letting her guard down, though...no. Not going to happen. She can't afford that.

Krem's head falls forward, and it takes a hell of a lot of restraint not to shrug her off in the same manner that he'd nearly started to yell at Bull.

I don't think anyone will just spontaneously jump him, I know you're better than that. I told him to watch what he said because I don't want any of you to have reason to fear or hate him more, and if one of you got accusatory at him it could end badly and I would rather avoid a full scale riot because you lot are all butting heads because nobody can sit down and fucking talk to eachother.

He doesn't say any of that though. Korrin wold probably give him some disgusted look, or worse, do the same thing that Bull had done.

"I'll take your word for it," he grumbles against the rim of his cup, then empties it in a couple of long swallows.

As far as Korrin's concerned, there's really nothing to talk about. She doesn't expect Iron Bull to change his mind about the people he's working for, nor is she going to change hers. And Krem, well-meaning though he is, really doesn't know what it's like to live as a potential saarebas.

He may not be yelling, but Korrin still takes note of his grumbles and sighs a bit, wondering how to smooth things over while still holding onto her own views. "Good. Maybe we should get around to a game or two, liven things up with a distraction."

The Iron Bull is never going to be a great subject for them anyway, so c'mon Krem. Help her change the subject.

You know I said it in a prayer like a war cry

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