#I could be persuaded away from the forest here but not the ocean apologism

[falderaletcetera]

tags via @thiefree because I couldn't agree more

Please reblog, I’m trying to make up a god

[sometimesiwritebadly]

The Lost Girl (Part 3)

Chapter Summary: In the past, Raven confronts Killian and Liam for the first time in years. In the present, Raven and Hook begin working together to save David from the dreamshade poison.

Notes: lmao remember that time i said it wouldn’t be long until the next chapter? that was funny. also ao3 saw it first

Warnings: Language, brief mention of suicide

Word Count: 1.9k

Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

~~~ A Very Long Time Ago ~~~

Raven really didn’t want to do this. She was hiding behind some bushes, watching Liam and Killian make the journey up to dead man’s peak, searching for the deadly dreamshade. She knew she had to convince them not to take the plant back to the Enchanted Forest, but confronting the two of them would mean admitting some of her deepest secrets. Killian, assuming he hasn’t grown out of his inquisitive nature, would have hundreds of questions. But Liam...she knew for a fact what he’d ask. “Why did you leave me Talia? Did I mean nothing to you?” She could practically hear him say it, with his ocean blue eyes filled with pain. Liam had meant so much to her, and she to him...Raven would never admit it to anyone, but in a better world, she would’ve happily married him.

Raven watched as they got closer and closer to the dreamshade, the brothers talking about their encounter with Pan. She took a deep breath, then appeared in front of Liam, blocking the path. Liam had his sword in front of him, using it to clear away any plants in their way. When he spotted her, he didn’t lower it.

“What do you want?” He asked, his voice laced in anger. Ouch. Killian took a much kinder approach.

“Is it really you, Talia? How can this be?” Raven had to resist letting a smile overcome her face. He was still so kind, after all this time.

“It’s Raven now. I, uh, I took a new name. When I left the ship.” She took a deep breath, gathering more courage before continuing, “It really is me, though. No one ages on Neverland...I had no idea it had been so long until I recognized you.” Liam finally yielded, putting his sword away, but his hardened face showed no emotion at Raven’s explanation.

“Tal -” Killian stopped himself, before continuing without the use of her name, “We thought you were dead...we thought you’d - How did you even get here? Why did you never come back? Why'd you leave?” There it was, all the questions that Raven did not want to answer. Instead, she changed the topic to what she had really come for.

“It doesn’t matter. I came to tell you that you can’t take the dreamshade back to the Enchanted Forest. It’s too dangerous.” Her comment only made Liam scoff.

“Nice try Raven ,” He said, mocking the name, “But your suitor already tried. And I don’t mean to offend, but I’d rather believe my king than a traitor like yourself.”

Raven tried not to let his comment affect her, instead trying again to persuade him. “Look, you don’t need to forgive me. After today, you never need to see me again. Just trust me one last time-”

“Trust you? You abandoned us! How can I trust you? You know-” He paused for a moment, taking a menacing step towards Raven, “I wish you had walked off the plank like we thought for all those years. At least then I could remember you as a friend, instead of knowing the truth of your bad form.”

Killian’s eyes widened at his comment, and at the fury that was appearing in Raven’s eyes. He took a step back from the pair, sensing the argument would only get more heated.

Raven began yelling this time. “Bad form? The only bad form here is trying to win a war for a ruthless, idiotic king by cheating! You have absolutely no idea what I was going through on that ship-”

Liam cut her off once more, yelling even louder than she, “Yes I do! I know exactly what you were going through because you were my best friend! I told you everything and you did the same! I thought we had a future, but you - Did you even care for me at all?   Did you not think for one moment how you leaving would affect me?

“You know what,” Raven began walking away from the brothers as she spoke, “Go ahead! Kill everyone with the dreamshade. Kill the other army, kill your own army, kill yourselves with it! May the last thing you think of when the poison takes over your heart be regret. You can die thinking about how the traitor Talia was right! ” With her final words, she disappeared from their sight, heading back to camp.

~~~ Present Day ~~~

“How are you holding up, mate?” Hook asked David, who was very obviously struggling as they walked.

“Just fine. Perfect. Why would anything be wrong.” David replied, glancing back at Raven as he tried to appear in perfect health.

“Yeah, you don’t need to fake it. I know you’ve been poisoned by dreamshade.” Raven said, making David stop walking and look at Hook with anger.

“You told her?!”

“He didn’t have to, mate. It’s obvious to anyone familiar with the side effects.” Despite Raven’s assurance that Hook hadn’t broken what little trust David had put in him, the prince felt no need to apologize, instead answering Hook’s original question.

“Don't worry about me. Just worry about getting us to the sextant.”

“As entertaining as that was, I wasn’t talking about the poison. I meant the good-byes. Looked a bit stormy back there.” David began walking again, letting the other two follow behind him.

“I did what had to be done, and I did it out of love. Emma and Mary Margaret will understand that.” He explained, before stopping once more at a nearby tree.

“I hate to break it to you, but-” Raven started, before Hook cut her off.

“You’re gonna tell them that from beyond the grave.” He said, earning a glare from the girl.

David looked at the two of them once more before correcting, “No. You are. You two are gonna tell them that I died a hero, fighting for their way home. What you're not gonna tell them is that I left already a dead man.”

“You don’t think your family deserves the truth?” Raven asked.

“What do you know of family?” Hook muttered, although he made no effort to hide the comment from Raven. In return, Raven hit his arm as hard as she could.

David, ignoring the childish exchange, answered Raven’s question. “Their last memories of me won't be of a liar.”

“Why should I help you?” Hook asked. Raven was surprised at his question, considering the whole point of this journey was to save David’s life.

David chuckled at the question before answering, “Well, if you didn't steal that bean, they wouldn't have had a chance to take Henry, we wouldn't be on this island, and I wouldn't be dying of dreamshade.”

“Nice going, Hook.” Raven muttered. This time, Hook hit her arm.

“Fair point.” He replied to David, “At least you got to say good-bye. Most people don't get that much.” David paused for a moment, before looking back at Hook. Hook kept walking, taking the lead before David spoke again.

“You lost someone, didn't you?” Hook glanced at Raven for just a single moment before ignoring David’s question. If David noticed the exchange, he didn’t say anything.

“This is where we ascend. I'll climb ahead and throw down the rope.” Raven looked up at the peak, remembering the horrible day she had been there with Hook and Liam. David and Hook kept arguing as Hook began to climb up, but she didn’t pay much attention. She wished more than anything she could go back, make her last words to Liam anything other than what she had said.

~~~ A Very Long Time Ago ~~~

When Raven returned to the Lost Boy’s Camp, she was fuming. Their numbers were few, as Pan had only recently begun recruiting people to permanently stay on the island, so there was plenty of room for the Lost Boys to stay the hell away from Raven as she stormed about. She was muttering to herself, complaining about how “Liam think’s he’s all that,” and “Of course he became a fucking Captain,” and how, “He’s just some king’s little bitch.”  

When Pan noticed his Raven’s mood, he turned to Felix for answers.

“I think she talked to the adults that showed up earlier.” Was the only answer Felix had for him.

“Well I knew that much, you idiot-”

“I can hear you two!” Raven snapped, cutting off Pan. Pan winced, turning around to see Raven staring right at them. He sent Felix off with a look, before walking over towards the girl.

“So..care to explain?” He asked, sitting next to Raven on a log.

“They’re idiotic adults who are going to end up killing their entire country-”

“Not that, Raven. Clearly you know them.”

Raven sighed, looking down at her hands before telling the truth. “We lived on that ship together. They were my friends. Now they’re idiotic adults who would rather trust some dumb king than their oldest friend.”

“You lived on the- you said there weren’t any boys on the ship!” Pan exclaimed, remembering the first night he met Raven. When she glared at him, he conceded. “But that’s not important now….you tried your best to tell them the truth. It’s up to them now.”

“I just want them off the island. As soon as possible.” This made Pan grin. Sounds like a good game, and Pan loves a game.

“Now that, I can do for you.”

~~~ Present Day ~~~

Raven and David watched as Hook climbed up the mountain. The plan was for Hook to climb up and throw a rope down so David could make it up the mountain. Raven’s job was just to make sure he stays alive until then. Hook had wanted Raven to just “poof” them up to the top, as he put it, but Raven insisted that it would be better to avoid any magic, as Pan can trace it easily.

Hook was nearly all the way up the mountain before David made any attempt at conversation.

“So...how long have you known Hook?” He asked, making Raven look away from the climbing pirate.

“Uhhh.. I’m not sure.” Raven answered honestly, “I’ve probably been on this island for hundreds of years.”

“Well sure..it’s just that you two seem close.”

“Close?!” Raven repeated, unsure if she’d heard David right. “Hook and I are nowhere near friends, I’m not sure where you got that idea, mate.”

“I don’t mean that you’re friends, I just mean that you argue more like you’re siblings than enemies.” David’s observation made Raven go quiet. “C’mon, I’m a dying man. And I’m curious.”

Raven scoffed at David’s attempt to get her to tell the truth, but decided to tell him anyway. “Hook and I knew each other before either of us came to Neverland.”

“What, like, when you were kids?”

“I’m still a kid, thank you very-” Raven suddenly sensed the presence of Pan, making her stop talking. She looked around the forest, before realizing that Pan was at the top of the mountain with Hook.

“What is it?” David asked, sensing her concern.

“Pan’s up there.”

“How do you know? Is Hook ok?” David asked.

“I just know, ok. And I’m not sure about Hook...but he hasn’t thrown the rope down. Think you can climb without it?” Raven asked, but before she even finished the question, David was slowly beginning to climb. “Guess that’s a yes…” She mumbled, before pulling her hands on the rocks and pulling herself up.

~~~

tag: @peculiarinsomniac 

[wootensmith]

Ruins

The cold had closed in, choked off the city with snow as blizzard after blizzard swept through the forest. It was wearing on now, they’d expected the thaw for some weeks, but winter clung on. Solas half willed it to linger, knowing he could not put off the spell for much longer. The spring would be the last with the Veil. If he were lucky, it would hold until summer, but the recent readings had been dire. He despaired of finding the Inquisitor. She was no longer activating the amplifiers and he had not been able to find her, not even to sense her in the Fade for more than a month. He tried to convince himself that she only slept at different hours or that she was distant and he couldn’t reach her, but his heart began to doubt. Another anniversary of the Breach had come and gone without the slightest signal from her. No dream, no message, no sighting at Skyhold. Nothing. It gnawed at him, the fear that she’d fallen somewhere, alone and unmourned. That she had been frightened or grieving when it happened. Dorian had told him once that they were all prepared for it, for her death, but he found himself blindsided by the idea of it, even after all this time. Why did I not take the amulet and steal her? Leave this world to its fate— He let the thought skitter away. It was an ugly one. He already knew why he hadn’t chosen that path. “You are distracted, Solas. Shall I return another time?” asked Abelas. He shook himself free of the ideas that haunted him. “No. I apologize. There is much left to do and I have been— unfocused. What were you saying about the training? Most of the recruits appear to have good form.” “Perhaps. But most of them aren’t prepared for the reality of gaining new abilities. The remaining Elvhen still recall how it felt to swim in an ocean of magic, but these elves— they’ve only learned to fear it. We cannot undo generations of false teaching in a few months. Their casting forms are adequate, but it is entirely different to experience it. There are too few mages among them. It will be chaos.”

Solas sighed. “What would you have me do? I cannot give them magic without lowering the Veil.” “Not here. But you could walk the Fade with them. Would that Felassan were still among us, he could have helped. Feynriel might be trained to assist you. Even if it is only in dreams, they would have some experience of the sensations before the true battle. The Evanuris will not wait while they acclimate.” “It is a sound plan,” agreed Solas, swallowing the barb about his friend. “I’m not certain they will take the knowledge with them into the waking world, too many seem to discount what occurs in dreams, but I will try.” “Good.” “Is there more news from Tevinter?” Abelas shook his head. “Their forces grow, but there has been no movement of the troops. Winter is a poor time for a siege if that is what they intend. And your old friend is making a great deal of trouble in the magisterium. With our help, of course. I believe they are too occupied to concern themselves with us yet.” “I hope it lasts. I have no desire to fight more wars than we already must. The Blight research—” A draft of chill air swept up the steps as the temple doors swung open and he stopped. Footsteps on the stairway and Sevren’s voice rose up them. “They should be just up here.” Solas turned from the table they were standing beside. Abelas was staring down the stairwell. His hand closed around Solas’s shoulder as if to steady him. Sevren emerged first, reaching back to help someone. Solas had an instant of dread that it was Vhemanen, that something had happened to her or to the people in Skyhold, but the thickly cloaked figure was not stooped like Vhemanen. When she looked up and he caught a glimpse of her eyes his heart stuttered painfully in his chest. “Solas,” said the Inquisitor. He was too shocked to respond. Abelas glanced at him and stepped in. “Andaren atish’an, Inquisitor,” he said. Her face was mostly covered with the cloak, but the edges of her eyes crinkled in a smile as she turned to him. “I am not an Inquisitor any longer, Abelas,” she said. He held out a hand to grasp hers. “Sentinel, then. You are most welcome lethallan. We have been concerned.” The skin around her eyes smoothed. The smile had dropped away. Solas remembered to breathe at last. “You may not feel that way when I tell you why I am here,” she said. He didn’t care why she had come. He didn’t care what awful news was about to drop from her lips. She was there. She was safe and whole. A distant part of him tried to exert cool reason onto his reaction, but in his deepest heart he knew whatever madness she was about to propose, he’d agree to. Her eyes turned back to him. He longed to see her face, forgot that he had yet to greet her, to acknowledge her at all. “I’ve found another way, but you will not like it. It is not perfect, and I would keep looking, but—” her voice cracked and those eyes grew overbright in the candlelight, “I am running out of time.” “Any advantage will be welcome,” said Abelas. The Inquisitor glanced at Sevren and he flushed and grew awkward. “Ir abelas,” he murmured, “I have duties to—” He scrambled back down the stairs. She waited until the cold rippled back up and away as the temple door opened and shut again. “I need you to wake them,” she said, watching Solas. “Wake them? Who?” asked Abelas. But Solas knew. And Abelas realized almost instantly. “You cannot mean— you don’t know what you’re asking.” He shot a glance at Solas. “I do. I know. I’ve tried other methods, but I— am not like them. No one is, not even you, Abelas,” she said. “I need an Evanuris to help us.” Abelas shook his head, his face drawing back into an angry snarl. “You don’t. They will not help us. Not one of them. It is not what they do. They take and they slaughter and enslave. We are— cattle to them. Less than cattle. Mythal, alone, would have aided us and she is gone. This is madness—” Solas held up a hand to interrupt. “Why do you need an Evanuris?” he asked her, startled to realize it was the first time he had spoken. He immediately regretted not saying something softer, something loving. She seemed not to notice, eager to sell this strange request to him. “Do you remember what Warden Clarel intended? The deal that she thought Corypheus was making with her? She wanted to wipe out the archdemons all at once—” “It was folly,” he answered, “as likely to lead to chaos and a flood of darkspawn as it was to ending the Blight.” “Yes!” she agreed, “But I have been thinking about it since Adamant. The Wardens know the key to ending a Blight is killing an archdemon because it is the mind that leads them. Without it, the darkspawn don’t attempt to surface, they linger in the Deep Roads in small bands instead. They may attack trespassers, but without the Calling, they have no collective purpose.” “But they would remain there, multiplying until the next archdemon arrives. A vast army just waiting for the order to attack,” said Abelas. “That is why the Wardens thought eliminating the archdemons would prevent any further Blights. But they didn’t understand what an archdemon is. Neither did I, not truly. Not until Wisdom’s library. But you told me yourself, Solas. The Forgotten Ones tested the Veil for weakness, became archdemons and escaped with the help of the darkspawn. The Wardens were wrong because they cannot really die with the blow of a sword, just as Mythal did not die.” Abelas grew pale with rage at the mention, but held his peace. “Just as Corypheus did not die until all the fragments of him were destroyed. Morrigan knew this. It is what saved Warden Brosca. It’s why Mythal wanted Kieran. He had a fragment of Urthemiel within him, just as Flemeth carried a fragment of Mythal. We can never destroy the Blight that way. But if we can persuade an Evanuris to inhabit a dragon, before the madness of the red lyrium takes them, if we can convince them to use the Calling, to draw the darkspawn somewhere deep, deep into the infected titan, we can destroy them with one battle.” “But there are thousands of them—” Solas started but Abelas turned to glare at him. “You can’t be considering this. Not truly.” He turned back to the Inquisitor. “You don’t understand. They will not help us. They are just as bad as the Forgotten Ones. Anything to gain more power, to hold their godhood secure. They will not care if it means swallowing the world in darkspawn. They will not care if their people die or turn or the land itself sickens. So long as they remain, so long as they defeat their rivals. You cannot do this. I know your myths. I’ve heard them repeatedly in the time we’ve been here.” He grasped her shoulders and Solas tensed, expecting to need to intervene, but Abelas only pleaded with her. “I wish they were what you think. I wish that they were as benevolent and generous as your stories. But they are not.” “There must be one who—” she cried. “No. Not one.” “Sylaise, Ghilan’nain, surely—” Abelas shook his head. “No, lethallan. It was Sylaise who kidnapped and tortured children in order to force their mothers into servitude to her. Ghilan’nain fed her slaves to wild beasts to prepare them for Andruil’s hunts or used magic spells to grow horns or talons on her victims, transforming them into abominations. We are nothing to them. They did not hesitate to kill one of their own. Why would our fate give them any pause? No. Mythal alone would have done this. If you offer this knowledge to the Evanuris, they will only use it against one another. A dozen darkspawn armies clashing over all the world and us in the middle.” He stopped, his face twisting to stare at Solas, that same disbelieving, pleading look for him as well. “We have to try,” she insisted. “What alternative is there? Perhaps they have softened after all this time.” Abelas groaned and rubbed his temple as if it pained him. “The alternative is giving them justice. I mean to avenge Mythal. To avenge us. Everything, every pain we’ve suffered, every death, the loss of the Fade and ourselves— it is all due to them. We cannot escape our fate, but I will not allow them to slip free of it either. They will not survive us. Not one of them.” “But if we could escape, if we could wipe out the Blight— would you doom us all to sate your anger?” Solas felt the sensation of her hand on his face in the dark. Of Mythal speaking quietly to Elgar’nan in the brittle cold of endless winter. He did not expect it to work on Abelas. He did not have the same reasons to yield that Solas did. But the Sentinel paused, backed up a step, as if she’d given him a blow. “Even if we did convince one of them, even if this insanity worked and all went as it ought to,” he asked, “how do you mean to destroy that many darkspawn? The Wardens are too few, even our own forces are too few to conquer so many especially if we are already battling the other Evanuris.” “Both the Wardens and the Legion of the Dead are ready to join me in the Deep Roads. And Dorian is working to turn the might of Tevinter toward aiding you here.” “Aid us?” asked Solas, “All indications are that they intend to invade.” She shook her head. “I have been careful— we have been careful. The magisterium does not know all, but they know that you are facing a grave danger to all of Thedas. I have only to send word to Dorian.” “It is still not enough,” said Abelas. “I know,” she admitted, “but there is still the anchor. I will follow the Calling to where the darkspawn gather. In a few months, perhaps less, the mark will become uncontrollable again. If we are fortunate, I will be in the center of the horde when the power is at its apex and it will destroy them. It still may not be enough. There will be a good deal of darkspawn left afterward, but they will be scattered for a time. Easier to manage. There will not be an ocean waiting to pour into Thedas.” “It will mean your death,” said Solas. “It will mean my death anyway, fanor. At least this way, it may do some good.” It was unhinged. Desperate. “It took three years for the anchor to become unstable, and even then, it was not powerful enough to wipe out the numbers that you would need to,” he reminded her gently. She raised her hand to her cloak, but hesitated. “It was only my arm last time. And things seem to have— accelerated.” He felt a crackling ball of dread settle into his chest as she unwound the cloak. Abelas gasped. “Mythal lanaste!” he cried. Solas stumbled back in shock, knocking over a pile of books with a crash that went unheeded. Half of her face glowed with emerald veins. Like a statue crumbled and then pieced painstakingly back together. They branched up her neck and over her chin, lined her lips, stretching in delicate webs over the skin of her cheeks. It ended just below her eye and one jagged line straggled over the boundary of her nose, already reaching for the far side of her face. How had it not reached her heart? How was she standing there? “But— it shouldn’t have been this fast,” protested Solas. “I thought— a year at least.” He took a step toward her and Abelas shook free of his bewilderment, realizing there was more happening than her plan. “I see,” he said flatly. The Inquisitor ignored him, watching Solas. “I have— much to think on, lethallan. Have you— is there some document I can— I’m afraid I’m twelve paces behind you.” She tore her gaze from Solas and turned to him. “Yes. In my pack. It is at the eluvian. Your lookouts would not let me pass for fear I had brought a weapon with me. They should have kept me and sent you the pack instead.” She smiled, but it was sad. “All my notes are there. If you wish, Dorian has a more expansive copy.” He gave her a shaky half-bow. “Thank you.” He seemed to recover himself, at least a little. “I cannot promise to agree to this,” he warned her, “but it is— unjust of me to dismiss it out of hand. Give me some time to consider.” “Of course,” she said. Abelas was gone long before Solas realized they were alone and he was still staring at the spidery lines of light in her skin. She’d begun to rewrap the cloak around herself, trying to cover it. “Don’t,” he said suddenly, his hip slamming the table in his haste to reach her. He tugged the cloak. “Don’t, please. I have longed to see your face for so long.” She laughed softly, but her hand remained on the cloak. “I am afraid it is a disappointment then. I was never a beauty, but Sera says I could compete with Corypheus’s face now.” “Sera is a blind fool,” he said, releasing the cloak to trace the glow on her lips. She waited patiently and when his hand drew away, she returned to rearranging the cloak. “I cannot return to the eluvian this way,” she said, noting his confusion. “I don’t want others to see.” “Return? You mean to go?” He pulled the cloak away again. “Stay.” “But the mark could—” He pressed his hand to her cheek and pulled the flare of the anchor down, back into his own flesh. “I won’t let it become unstable. Stay. I have had no word, no sign from you in months. I began to fear you were…” he let it fade out. “Turnabout is fair play, I suppose,” he admitted. She released the cloak to touch him. “I wouldn’t do that. I did not intend to worry you. I had to go far into the titan to get the answers we needed. There was a great deal of red lyrium. I had to use Iron Bull’s elixir. I have not been able to dream for some time. Nor send word. Ir abelas, emma lath.” “Stay then. Here, with me.” She drew back slowly. “You still wish me to? Even like this? Mangled and ugly and bearing news that may drive a wedge between us? You still care for me?” “Still? Oh, Vhenan, I have barely begun. I will love you long after we are both dust.” He let his fingers glide over her jaw, her ear, through her hair. She was so much softer than he remembered. So much warmer without the rigid metal gauntlet in his way. “And you are more beautiful to me than you have ever been. It is only fear that held my tongue. I thought I had given you more time.” “You did.” “Not enough— I— stay. I have kept my sanity by a thread these past years, but I fear it will be lost in earnest if I must part from you again. You have found another way, you have accomplished your goal, anything you need, I will procure. Here. If it is only my affection you doubt I can pro—” She kissed him, her hand pressed hard to the nape of his neck. His arms had just found her waist when it happened again. Her wounded arm rose to respond and she broke away in horror and grief as she realized it could not reach him. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean to brush you with—” Don’t push me away, he willed her. “Is it painful?” he asked, pulling the cloak from her shoulder and then the simple shirt beneath to look. The glow of the mark was overwhelming. “No, not painful. Just— it bothers some. I didn’t want— I’m a ruin, Solas. You cannot truly want me here, not this way.” She would not listen to praise, not yet. He kissed her again, instead. “Is that what troubles you? We have weathered many storms and battles together. I am a ruin too, my love. Let us lean against one another once more. Stay.” He held her wounded arm to show her what his words could not. What he had failed to do in dreams. “Ar lath ma.” She managed a weak smile. “Again,” she said. “Today and tomorrow and every day after,” he answered. “I yield.” She met his kiss and didn’t flinch when he gently squeezed her arm.