The Inquisitor wasn't sure what lay ahead of her as she marched toward the training grounds, where Josephine had said a matter required her personal attention. Aster hadn't liked how carefully the ambassador had labeled the issue as personal, how slightly one perfectly-penciled brow had crept up to indicate her disapproval of whatever mess she'd dispatched her Inquisitor to clean up — a mess Aster had the distinct feeling she must have caused, somehow. She couldn't begin to imagine what she might have done: despite her noble heritage, the once-Chantry-bound young Inquisitor had surprisingly few skeletons in her closet, so her mind whirled with possibilities as she made her way through Skyhold.

The familiar, harsh clang of metal hitting metal drifted up to her ears the closer she got to the training grounds, but she could immediately sense something foreboding in the sound. This wasn't the cacophony of hundreds of blades bashed together in coordinated training, but the slow, intentional swordplay of a one-on-one battle. Aster wondered if Lysette, the hesitant Templar whose life she'd saved in Haven, had finally decided she could live alongside mages no longer and had challenged Cullen. It was a risk they'd discussed more than once, each time agreeing it would be best settled through an old-fashioned skirmish that the commander would handily win. That would put Lysette back in her place while reiterating Cullen's superiority in battle, a win-win for the Inquisition's forces. But what would that have to do with Aster personally save that Lysette owed her life to the Inquisitor? No matter, apparently: Cullen spotted Aster approaching and bustled up the path to meet her, clearly not involved in the fighting himself and so putting that theory neatly to bed.

"Oh good, you're here. I can't talk any sense into them—"

"Who?" Aster interrupted, her tone expectant and businesslike. She couldn't fix anything if no one told her what the hell was going on.

"Josephine didn't…?" Cullen frowned and fidgeted in a show of uncharacteristic nerves. He didn't want to tell her who was fighting, which meant he must know why they were fighting — and what it had to do with Aster personally. "It's...the Iron Bull and Warden Blackwall," he finally revealed after a sigh.

Aster immediately understood the situation.

"Shit," she cursed under her breath as she pushed past Cullen, a renewed determination in her stride. Sensing their approaching leader's purpose, Inquisition soldiers scattered before her to carve a path through the crowd to the two men fighting at the center of it. Neither of them noticed their Inquisitor watching from the sidelines until she darted into the fray to catch Blackwall's descending sword in the notch between her own crossed daggers, the knives held firmly in her grip despite the ferocity of the Warden's strike throbbing through her muscles with the effort of holding it back.

"Inquisitor!" He panted, his eyes going wide the instant he saw her. It took him a moment to recover from the surprise before he could straighten up and hastily sheathe his blade. "I—"

"Bull!" Aster snapped over her shoulder at the giant Qunari who still held his warhammer with a big fist at either end, ready to absorb Blackwall's blow along the handle. At Aster's narrow-eyed look, the head of the hammer thudded into the dirt, an anchor for him to lean against while he caught his breath.

"All I did was ask a question," he offered in his own defense before Aster could start berating him. "If you don't believe me, Krem was there. She'll tell you."

Aster's attention flicked over to the smirking face of Iron Bull's second in command, who had just stepped out from among the crowd to back her leader up.

"What was the question?" Aster demanded of the Tevinter woman.

"I can speak for myself," Iron Bull humphed, but Krem answered anyway.

"Iron Bull asked if he and the good Warden have a problem," she reported. "Apparently, they do."

Aster closed her eyes for a second and drew in a breath to steady herself, to temper the indignation boiling in her gut and the yearning aching in her chest. This was no one's fault but her own, she reminded herself. She knew there was always someone looking to her; she had to be more careful what they saw. Lowering her voice to address only those gathered around her, she chided Iron Bull, "Don't ask questions you know the answer to."

The Qunari shrugged, remorseless. "When one of my men has an issue with me, we fight it out," he said simply. "Better to get it out now than on the field of battle."

"Blackwall's not one of your men," Aster reminded him, her voice still quiet, "and fighting is not the answer to this problem. You know that."

"Inquisitor…" Blackwall hesitantly cut in, and Aster could tell from his tone that he was about to apologize, to take responsibility for what had just happened despite the fact he was the least to blame for this display. She met his eyes and shook her head slightly; he pressed his lips together with a frown, but obeyed unquestioningly. It put a weight in her gut: that was classic Blackwall, always a soldier first.

"Commander Cullen!" Aster's voice lifted over the crowd, drawing the former Templar to her side, his fist over his heart in a salute.

"Yes, Inquisitor?"

"Get these men back to work. Watching others fight won't prepare them to face Corypheus."

"Yes, Inquisitor! You heard her, men! Form up!"

In a heartbeat, Cullen had called his men to attention and was directing them back into their training formations, barking orders that no one hesitated to follow. Cullen's soldiers were nothing if not dutiful, their whispers redirected into marching chants...for now. Aster knew it was only a matter of time before rumors were swirling about the motivation behind Blackwall and Iron Bull's bout, and she couldn't help but sigh at the inevitability. Rumors were what got them here to begin with.

"I ask again. Do we have a problem?" Iron Bull addressed Blackwall over Aster's head, pulling her from her thoughts to attend to a more immediate concern. The men's gazes were locked, Iron Bull's cool and Blackwall's defiant. Neither seemed inclined to notice the regrettably petite Inquisitor standing between them, trying to keep the peace.

Nonetheless, Aster was the one to firmly answer, "No." Blackwall broke the staring match first, his eyes dropping to meet hers. She could see the doubt and hurt clouding them, intermixed with that permanent darkness from too many horrors too often seen in his life, familiar to her now after so long spent at the Warden's side. It made her feel suddenly quite small to think she might be another bad memory to haunt him. She had to look away, back to Iron Bull, before she could add, "I'll explain. Consider it resolved."

"Done," the Qunari agreed with a single curt nod of his horned head. "I was in the mood for a good fight, though," he added regretfully, and Aster scoffed.

"Clearly," she spat, the word biting enough to mollify Iron Bull to some extent. "Infighting amongst my vanguard is the last thing I need right now."

"I was trying to clear the air!" Iron Bull protested.

"Words would have sufficed! Or failing that, at least privacy!" Putting up a hand to silence Iron Bull's inevitable retort, Aster drew another deep breath. "Krem suggested to me that your company would be well-suited to return to Haven and salvage whatever they can," she informed Iron Bull once she'd regained her composure, pulling on years of etiquette lessons to appear calm and collected though she felt anything but. "I'd like you to go with them."

"Trying to get rid of me, boss?" Iron Bull drawled, but he nodded thoughtfully. "Not a bad idea. Maybe it'll keep people from talking so damn much… Out of sight, out of mind."

"My thoughts exactly. By the time the Chargers return, this will all be old news. If you find stragglers or salvageable goods in the process, even better."

"And I'll get that fight I'm itching for," Iron Bull added with a widening grin.

"Let's hope not," Aster corrected. "Our scouts haven't seen any sign of Corypheus's men around the ruin in weeks. Leliana thinks he's turned his attention to Orlais for now."

"Maybe I'll find a hungry bear or something." Hefting his warhammer over his shoulder and into its holster on his back, Iron Bull jerked his chin back toward the hold. "Run ahead and warn the boys, Krem. I want us on the road today."

"They'll be ready," Krem assured her leader with a laugh. "The only question is, can your big ass keep up?"

In a flash, before Iron Bull could retort, the Tevinter woman had saluted and set off at a jog toward the Chargers' encampment, leaving Iron Bull to linger in her wake. He took a few steps to follow, but stopped to turn and address Blackwall again.

"I've got no problem with you, Grey Warden. And for what it's worth… I don't like how things turned out, either."

Blackwall blinked up at the massive Qunari for a moment, then nodded slowly. "All right," he answered in a tone that made it clear to Aster, at least, that he had no idea what Iron Bull was trying to say. The horned warrior must have sensed it too, because he chuckled and shrugged at Aster.

"I tried."

"I'll explain," she assured him again. "Go on."

Iron Bull saluted her — something almost mocking about it, maybe due to how he smirked as his fist touched his heart — and then left. As his long strides quickly carried him away, Aster finally turned her full attention on Blackwall, who had patiently waited while she dismissed everyone around them. Now that they were left alone, she mustered a small, sheepish smile and opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off before she got the chance.

"You don't owe me an explanation."

"I want to—"

"I don't. I don't want to hear about it."

"It's not what you think," Aster tried again, but Blackwall shook his head.

"You do not owe me an explanation," he reiterated firmly, and Aster huffed in irritation. Blackwall was one of her dearest allies, but sometimes he was so damned stubborn that she wanted to shake him until his rattled brain was forced to see good sense. This was one of those times, but they were still within sight of Cullen's troops marching in formation nearby, and she absolutely did not need her followers whispering about an incident between her and Blackwall on top of everything else. So, she settled for a more direct approach: stepping closer to the Warden and lowering her voice to ensure their privacy, she asked quite bluntly,

"Do you really think I fucked Iron Bull?"

Blackwall balked to hear the act that had haunted him for days laid bare so plainly, blinking at her several times. "Well, I—"

"Because I didn't. I figured you, of all people, would know that, but… You believe it too, don't you?"

Blackwall searched her eyes, frowning in confusion. "I...did."

"Then I think I do owe you an explanation, after all." Aster cocked her head toward a nearby set of stairs embedded into the fort's walls, lifting a questioning brow back at her companion. "Walk with me?"