Chapter Text
Leo didn’t quite know how to feel. Happy? His irksome hand was no longer a problem. Relieved? The Exalted Council was over. Comforted? His friends were taking care of the Inquisition just fine without his direction, he was sure they were always going to be brilliant at it – it was only a matter of time. Despite the fact he knew how he should feel, he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge any of it.
He once overheard Cullen explain it would take time before Leo could start the acceptance stage of his grief. That made the elf chuckle bitterly under the bed sheets he had cocooned himself in. Acceptance? That was surely rich coming from the Commander. There he stood behind the Inquisitor’s door, declaring he knew of acceptance like he was some kind of counsellor – as if it didn’t take him years to get over what happened to him at the Circle Tower.
Cassandra also spent a lot of her time conferring with the others; both agents and advisors, about the Inquisitor’s condition. Condition? What was that supposed to mean? She spent perhaps an hour each day telling their friends of how he hadn’t left his room again, how he hadn’t eaten a single thing or spoken at all to anyone who entered his quarters. She didn’t understand. She expressed how worried she was and how she wished the Inquisitor would at least try.
First of all; Inquisitor Mylion Lavellen was no more. Even though the Inquisition was now served as Divine Victoria’s personal honour guard and it still needed an appointed leader – an Inquisitor – he couldn’t bring himself to step back into the role just yet. During the Exalted Council Leo made it fairly obvious that he would no longer be personally seeing to any big missions that came about. Losing his arm was a feeling like no other. He couldn’t describe it to anyone who asked about it. What is it like only having one? Can you still feel the other one there? Does it hurt like it’s still there? Daft questions that his advisors often scolded people for asking in Leo’s presence. Though he was sure they wondered the same things but were too scared to ask.
As it had been pointed out to him many times, he didn’t need his hands to perform his magic. The whole of Thedas knew Leo was an extremely skilled frost mage and an incredibly adept necromancer. They were also well aware that you could put a bow in the young elf’s hands and he would shoot you down the first bird that caught his eye. There was an archery competition advertised in the Herald’s Rest during the early days of the Inquisition after it had arrived at Skyhold and Leo at the time was invited by Varric to watch. To lift the soldiers’ morale (and also because of a bet between Varric and he) Leo joined the candidates. He decided early on to step out of the competition lest he take the winning prize for himself, after all he was there just to watch.
However, these weren’t natural skills Leo was marvellous at one day. He spent years hunched over books and other studying materials the Keeper had given him. He worked hard to be as skilled as he was now and he had worked had with both hands. Now everything was different. He only had one hand. Day-to-day menial tasks were changed as well. He couldn’t wipe his own arse the same as before and that infuriated the elf to no end. So much had to change now, the way Leo did everything had to change and it angered him so much that he cried in frustration at how useless he was in this state.
What no one could understand was the reason why he did nothing, the reason why he hardly moved out of his bed was because he was clinging to what little memory, what little feeling he still had of both arms. Waking up after making love and rolling off of Dorian to stretch in the early morning sun light, that would no longer feel the same. For a number of reasons; one being he couldn’t make love as well as before now he was without an arm. Not that Dorian would ever admit that out loud. He would never be able to worship Dorian’s perfectly sculpted body with two hands because he only had one and his lover deserved better than that. He deserved better than a one armed war hero who would soon be forgotten and tossed into history only for it to be retold in a different way. It happened to Inquisitor Ameriden and Leo had convinced himself it was going to happen again with today’s Inquisitor. Leo never used to care what people thought of him. ‘Let them talk’ he’d say. Now was different. He had defeated Corypheus, ended the destruction of Thedas and probably saved the world. He had killed ten dragons (the Iron Bull insisted on bringing every skull back to Skyhold as proof), roped one into doing his bidding, defeated a fake yet almost as powerful Archdemon and saved another from a deadly Qunari plot that involved burning the South to the ground only to most likely move on to the rest of Thedas.
Fantastic stories to tell around a fire, to tell children and grandchildren. Did you know the Inquisitor once killed a dragon just so he could use its skull as a throne? That one in particular would be a good one.
Despite all these wonderful things, Leo couldn’t think of them in the same way anymore. Losing his arm along with his self-esteem, that was a battle he would have to fight hard to win. And it would be a gruelling task to feel like he could conquer a land in the name of their cause. They were steps which were far too large for Leo to take so close after everything had happened.
It had been a two weeks since the Exalted Council had ended. Divine Victoria, Leliana, had made a few visits to finish up some work and leave some to Charter. Varric had made plans to meet Hawke here at Skyhold before returning to Kirkwall together. Thom had already said his goodbyes and left to join his fellow Grey Wardens to help rebuild. Sera had decided to stay in Orlais for a few more weeks to see if she could spot any more Jenny’s. Vivienne was also making her preparations to leave within the week so she could start on her own adventures with her plans for a new Circle of Magi. Iron Bull had made the decision after having a long discussion with the Commander to stay with the Chargers until the Inquisitor was feeling a little more normal. Both Dorian and Cullen decided that for the Inquisitor to make a faster recovery back to the norm then a lot of things shouldn’t change too quickly. Yet drastic changes had already been set in motion. The pilgrimage that Skyhold came to be was no longer the case. A lot of the merchants had shut up shop and moved back to where they had come from. Families moved back to their homes wherever they originally came from now that everything was safe again. The usual bustle in the courtyard soon settled down and it was becoming very obvious very quickly that at least a third of the population at Skyhold had already disappeared. For once, the Surgeon was starting to take regular breaks whereas before she hardly ever found time for a single break at all.
Leo couldn’t bare to look at any of it. Too much was changing too fast and he didn’t like it. He knew he was being selfish and he knew that he should be trying harder to appear happier for his people but what was the use right now? Tears brimmed in his eyes whenever he opened his door. What use was he going to be to his people when he was barely of any use at all. If he was truly needed to make important decisions, then his advisors would be breaking down his door and dragging him to the war table at least three times a day. And that was another thing on the long list of upsetting things now that the main objective of the Inquisition was over.
And to top it all off, the shittiest thing of all? Dorian was still leaving for the Imperium in just under two weeks. He had decided to stay for a month after everything had happened. Oh yes, Leo counted down the days, the hours and minutes until Dorian’s departure. That might be the only time he gets up and out of this bed. To watch his lover leave him again for the last time. The move to the Imperium was permanent and Dorian didn’t want Leo to come with him.
Sometimes he thought that instead of lounging around moping about his lover’s return to his homeland he should make his last days in Skyhold happier. However, when he thought of things he and Dorian could do he realised how hard they would be now that he only had one arm and that’s what made the Inquisitor spiral back down into his little pit of depression again.