Skyhold had hosted kings.
Skyhold had hosted rebel mages, templar orders, ambassadors, assassins pretending to be diplomats, and one very confused goat that Sera insisted was a spy.
None of those required Josephine to rewrite three separate etiquette protocols in a single afternoon.
"She is not a duchess," Josephine said for the fourth time, quill scratching furiously across parchment.
"She is not a queen. She is not—"
She stopped, inhaled, and began again.
"She is a manifestation of divine light who expects noble reception."
"Can we give her the big chair?" Sera asked from the window.
"There is no chair appropriate for a god," Cassandra replied.
"Then we give her Varric's."
"Absolutely not," Varric said without looking up from Bianca.
Across the hall, Leliana's agents moved like shadows carrying banners, polishing marble that had never been polished before, removing anything that looked remotely like it could be interpreted as disrespect.
Which was most of Skyhold.
The fortress did not feel like itself.
It felt like it was holding its breath.
Ciri stood in the middle of the courtyard and wished, for the first time since arriving in Thedas, for a dragon attack.
Dragons were simple.
Dragons did not remember your past life and demand your soul in exchange for glowing swords.
"You could run," Sofia offered helpfully.
"She would find me," Ciri said flatly.
Serana, leaning against the pillar beside her, watched the preparations with narrowed eyes.
"Is this how your gods behave?" she asked.
"They don't usually get invited to dinner," Ciri replied.
Inigo adjusted his collar like a man preparing for execution.
"My friends," he said, "I have negotiated with jarls, crime lords, and my own conscience. None of them radiated sunlight capable of blinding an entire nation."
She did not arrive with a sound.
The light appeared first.
Not descending — present.
Then the shape inside it.
Meridia stepped into the courtyard as if she had always owned it.
Gold did not reflect on her.
Gold imitated her.
Every banner Josephine had arranged turned toward her without wind.
The temperature rose.
Not heat.
Clarity.
She looked around once, assessing Skyhold like an estate she was considering purchasing.
"Acceptable," she said.
Cassandra's hand tightened on her sword.
Bull, from the battlements, grinned like this was the best day of his life.
Cole tilted his head, eyes wide.
"She burns without hurting," he whispered. "She is loud in the quiet."
Solas did not speak.
He stared at her with the expression of a man watching a theory walk.
Meridia's gaze moved across the courtyard—
past the Inquisition—
past Elyanna—
—and stopped on Ciri.
The shift in her was instant.
Radiance sharpened into recognition.
"My champion."
Ciri took a step back on instinct.
"No."
The word came out too fast.
Too much memory behind it.
Sofia covered her mouth to stop the laugh.
Serana did not move.
Elyanna stepped between them — not aggressively, not defensively, simply placing herself where the line existed.
"She is not yours," the Herald said.
Meridia's eyes flicked to her, amused.
"She carries the blood of the Dragon God and the echo of my blade," Meridia replied. "We are already connected."
"I said no," Ciri repeated, more quietly.
The light around Meridia dimmed — not in anger, but in interest.
"You refuse divinity," she said.
"Yes."
Meridia smiled.
"Good."
Ciri blinked.
That had not been the expected reaction.
The introductions that followed were a battlefield disguised as diplomacy.
Josephine executed a bow that had ended wars.
Meridia accepted it as her natural right.
Sera whispered increasingly dangerous commentary from behind a column.
Varric began mentally writing a book titled The Day the Sun Moved In.
Cullen stood at attention not because protocol demanded it — but because his instincts told him this was a presence that required readiness.
"You command the army," Meridia said, looking at him.
"I do," Cullen replied.
"You will break before she does," Meridia observed, glancing at Elyanna.
He did not answer.
But he did not look away.
It was Ciri who broke the tension.
"You said Haven," she said.
Meridia turned back to her immediately.
"Yes."
Solas moved closer.
"You know something about the Scroll."
"I know," Meridia said, "where reality has been torn before."
The war table filled in minutes.
Maps spread.
Voices lowered.
For the first time since her arrival, Meridia spoke like a strategist instead of a monarch.
"There is a peak," she said, placing a finger on the ruined shape of Haven.
"Above the place where your breach once opened. Go there."
"Why?" Cullen asked.
Meridia's smile returned.
"Because something has been watching you from there for a very long time."
The journey north was quiet.
Elyanna rode ahead.
Cullen at her side.
Solas walked like a man following a thought only he could see.
Ciri tried very hard not to think about the way Meridia had said watching you.
Snow replaced grass.
Wind replaced sound.
The ruins of Haven rose like a memory no one had fully buried.
They climbed.
Past the broken walls.
Past the frozen remains of the Inquisition's first defeat.
Higher.
Higher.
Until the path became stone and sky.
Meridia stopped.
"This is where," she said.
Ciri stepped forward—
—and the world went silent.
Not quiet.
Silent.
The way it had been at the Throat of the World.
The way it had been when time itself had paused to listen.
The shadow passed over them before the sound arrived.
Not wings.
Presence.
Ancient.
Endless.
Ciri did not need to look up.
Her body already knew.
When she did, her breath left her completely.
He was not descending.
He was already there.
Alduin sat upon the peak as if the mountain had been made to support him.
Black scales drinking the light.
Eyes like burning worlds.
Not moving.
Not attacking.
Watching.
Watching her.
Not the Herald.
Not the mage.
Not the commander.
Her.
Her knees almost gave.
The memory of Helgen slammed into her chest.
Fire.
Screams.
The sky breaking.
Her first death.
Her first Shout.
The first time she had seen him.
Alduin tilted his head slightly.
Recognition.
Not anger.
Not hunger.
Something older.
Ciri's hand trembled.
For the first time since becoming Dragonborn—
she was afraid to breathe.