☆ the vorkosigan saga psl post, volume 3

[runawayballista]

welcome to hell

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[dirthena]

Leading him across the ramparts and the bridge over the courtyard to lead him back into Skyhold proper, Lavellan thinks on this. "Madder than I must have sounded," she confesses. "But they made me Inquisitor anyway, so there's hope for you yet." That isn't exactly what she meant when it came to Solas, but it fit enough that she doesn't bother to correct him.

"Depending on what you ask. He doesn't believe in softening his words or his beliefs," something that had made her frustrated, true. But there is respect in her tone, and a sliver of admiration. "He has helped me before, and I trust him."

[forwardmomentum]

Miles tilts his head from side to side in consideration of this. Lavellan, figment though she may be, seems like a woman of solid character, and quite trustworthy. Miles feels that's a good sign, being able to trust a drug-induced figment of your own imagination. Says a hell of a lot better about him than the alternative.

"I appreciate a man who doesn't deal in bullshit," he says, flipping out one hand. Entirely hypocritical, but Miles only likes being on the giving end of bullshit wherever possible. "No sugarcoating and straight to the point, eh? I could use a bit of that right now. Maybe a little clarity will get rid of this damned headache."

[dirthena]

Any members of the Inquisition that they pass on their way to her quarters greet her with a bow and a short Inquisitor, stepping aside for the both of them. Some she nods to in recognition, and others she doesn't spare much more than a passing glance -- there's something she has to do, after all. Past the throne, through a side door and up a staircase -- her room is large, brightly lit, and holds the air of somewhere lived in but only in short bursts of time.

"If you'll wait here, I'll go and fetch him." And attempt to explain the situation as briefly as possible.