#dorian gets made out with right in the front gate in front of everyone

[attractthecrows]

when the inner circle leaves the Inquisition to go their separate ways Revallen casts a protection charm on them that he applies with a kiss. no it doesn't have to be a kiss but that's Nessie's favorite so he just got used to it

[tomtenadia]

A Little Braver - ch. 5

So, here is ch. 5 for you all.

We finally get to meet the mysterious man that Aelin was kissing.

Also, the firehouse gets a great news

Enjoy it!

Ten days had passed. Aelin had been discharged from the hospital and allowed to move around in crutches providing she took it easy, a concept totally alien to her. She had gone back to the station as soon as she could do it.

The deadline for the performance review was fast approaching and she had spent the last few days at the station. They only got a week extension so she had offered to help but all she could do was sit and direct the show. Also, working kept her mind off… things… and as in things she meant a certain arsehole who had gone completely awol. She had texted him and never got a reply. Lately every time she tried to phone him she was told that the phone was not available. So she had stopped. He clearly was offended by what she had said. She just wished he had spoken to her, explained why her confession had terrified him so much. Just as she had finally found the resolve to try again after losing Sam, he had gone and ruined everything.

A glove hit her face “planet Earth calls Aelin.”

She refocused for a second and noticed Ansel’s red mane of hair in front of her.

“Dorian is looking for you. He is in your office and Aedion is there already.”

Aelin groaned “can they come to the couch? I am so comfy here.”

“Apparently not.”

“Fine.” She dropped the documents she was revising and grabbed her crutches and pulled herself up.

At snail pace she made her way to her office and once she got there she saw Aedion standing in front of her desk while Dorian had his feet up on it and was sitting relaxed on her comfortable chair.

“I don’t care if you are the chief. First, feet off my desk, second, arse off my chair.”

Dorian moved away and let her sit down and grabbed her crutches.

“So, what is so important that I had to leave my spot on the couch?”

Dorian passed her the documents he was holding, with a grin. He was positive this was going to cheer her up.

“No fucking way. You did it.”

He smiled at her smugly “Not entirely my merit.” He confessed “As you remember, the community protested in front of the government in the aftermath of the embankment accident. They did it just before the budget review was due. The government could not ignore them and what you all did that night. And I guess that the statement from your cheerleader had helped a lot as well.”

“Who?”

“Someone I am not allowed to mention in your presence.”

Aelin stare darkened all of a sudden.

“We are getting a second engine, but that engine needs staff.” She pointed out, her excitement taking a hit “I was just getting to that” added Dorian quite quickly, “Thomas has offered to give you a few men to help staff the second engine. It will have a mixed crew of newbies and experienced staff for a while. Aedion and I thought it was the best way to go.”

Aelin nodded “I want to help interview the candidates. Aedion is busy with drills. I, on the other hand, I have plenty of time.”

“As if I can sideline you. You are the captain after all.” Added Dorian knowing full well that if Aelin had her mind set on a task it was almost impossible to dissuade her.

“I want a bigger female presence. I can’t believe that from all the candidates that graduate from the academy there are no good female firefighters.”

“I can spread the news at the academy and see who applies and go from there.”

“Good.” Aelin relaxed on the chair.

“We have also have been invited to a party thrown by the mayor.”

“You are joking.” Aelin hated that kind of party. She had been to a few and it had been a nightmare.

“There is no escaping it. We have all the be present and dress mess is required.”

“My leg is in a protective support, if I wear dress mess I need to wear the skirt which means heels and can you see where I am going with this?” Aelin protested.

“I guess we can do an exception for you. Wear your regular blue trousers, make sure your boots are shining and wear your uniform shirt with the tie, not the t-shirt. And don’t forget the hat.”

“I can live with that.”

“When is the dreadful event?” Asked Aedion who hated those ceremonies just as much as Aelin.

“This Saturday.”

“We are on night shift, you genius.”

Dorian smiled dangerously “Not anymore. Second team is taking the night shift. Let me remind you that attendance is compulsory and pass the info to the team.”

“Yes, Chief.” And Aelin was very tempted to flip him off, but he was still her boss.

“Lys and Elide are to come as well. They are part of the team.”

“Oh so, no one is immune to this horrible shenanigans. Lovely.” Aelin sat back, still annoyed at the invitation.

“No darling, if I have to suffer, you will all go down with me.” And with that Dorian disappeared behind the door.

“Come on Aedion, let’s go and ruin the team’s day.”

Slowly the two made their way back in the common area where the squad was relaxing. Aedion had put them through a gruelling session of drills in the morning and now they needed time to unwind. No one had taken nicely the fact that the review has been postponed only by a week, but at least they hadn’t asked Aelin to attend as well with a destroyed knee. She would be there of course but on the sidelines.

“Ok, people,” Aelin shouted as she slowly made her way to her team “Brullo, switch off the tv for a minute.”

“That doesn’t sound promising,” complained Ren.

“Where are Lys and Elide?”

“In the ambulance doing inventory.” Replied Nox.

“Ok, can you please go and get them?” She asked him.

He nodded and ran away and got back a few moments later with the two ladies in tow.

“Ladies, sit.”

“Uh oh.” Said Lysandra, sitting on Aedion’s lap.

“Now that everyone is here, I have an announcement.” She smiled wickedly and the team shivered. That was her scary smile “Our esteemed mayor has decided to throw a party this Saturday. Bad news is… we are all invited so that he can show us how he appreciates what we do for the community.”

“Fuck no,” shouted Ansel, while finishing the bowl of cereals she was eating.

“We are on night shift.” Added Brullo.

“No we are not. Dorian gave the shift to second team. We are all free.”

A chorus of very rude words erupted from the team. Yeah, everyone hated those parties.

“Oh and by the way… it has to be dress mess.”

The protests grew louder. Aelin let them vent for a moment before putting an end to it.

“Guys!” She shouted, and the room went quiet “I know none of us like those parties, but my hands are tied. Dorian made it pretty clear that this is mandatory. So, protest how you want but there is no getting out of it.”

The team went back to their protest when Aelin raised her voice again “Did I say I was done?”

The group went silent again.

“The second piece of information is hopefully a bit more welcome.” And she really hoped so “we are getting our second engine.”

The cheers that erupted from the team were of pure joy.

“How did you do it?”

“You have to thank Dorian. He is the one who pulled the trick.” And Rowan apparently. No, she was not going there.

“He really is better than his old man. We have been pleading the old bastard for ages and nothing. A few months in charge and Dorian gives us the second engine. If it wasn’t that I am I straight I’d kiss the guy.” Said Ren happily and everyone laughed. 

Good, Aelin thought, they needed the good spirits.

“How will we do for crew?” Asked Ansel.

“Thomas is willing to give us some of his experienced men from one of his engines and take a few newbies. We’ll man the engine with a hybrid crew. Half experienced and half newbies. I need everyone to help with training. Aedion and I will do the main stuff but you guys are involved in this as well. I am out of commission for a while so I can only do classroom training.”

“We’ll help you, cap.” Chimed Nox happily.

Aelin turned to Ansel “I have asked to have a few more ladies in the team.”

“Thanks for that. Far too much testosterone in here.”

Aelin sat back down on the sofa, her knee started to get sore again “We are going to have other women hopefully, just don’t break their hearts.” She told Ansel.

Two of the guys sprayed what they were drinking, Aelin laughed “Oh come on, don’t tell me you had no idea Ansel was swinging on both sides.” Joked Aelin smiling at the woman.

“Both…” asked Brullo still quite shocked.

Ansel drank her coffee very calmly “Men, women, on a few occasion both at the same time.”

Aelin laughed at the expression of the guys.

“Ansel, I think you broke our boys.”

Aelin mobile went off and for a moment she hoped. But that hope had been short lived.

“Give me two minutes,” she said at the person at the phone. She stood and very slowly she made her way back to her office.

Once she got off the phone she stayed in her office to work. Then the dispatch siren went off and she heard the team depart and staying behind broke her heart.

She worked a bit longer but her mind could never fully concentrate. So she decided to do something stupid while the team was out on a call. She booked a taxi and not long after she was in front of the station waiting for her ride.

The driver got her at the airbase pretty quickly. She took out her pass and she hoped it worked even without him about. The man at the main gate let her through after checking her badge. So apparently he had told people she was allowed on the premises. That was a start. Painfully she reached the second check point and a guard approached her. Ok, her luck had already ran out.

“Can I help you, miss?”

“Yes, I am here to see captain Whitethorn.”

The man looked at her with curiosity for a second.

Did she got to the right airbase? As far as she knew there was only one and the first guy let her in.

“I am sorry miss but the captain and his team left a week ago.”

“Left?” Her voice trembled.

“Yes ma’am. They have been recalled and deployed a week ago.”

“Oh.” Was all Aelin managed “Th— thank you.” She turned and made her way back to the exit. Her heart slowly breaking. She sat down on a cement wall and let the sobs come. She took the phone and dialled his number and it went to voicemail “You could have told me. Instead you left. You just left me. Do you really hate me that much?” She sobbed and brushed her hand against her eyes “I hate you and I wish I never met you. Don’t ever bother look for me when you come back… I don’t want to see your face anywhere near my station. I am done with you, captain.” She hung up the phone and lowered her head and kept crying. She was done with men. She was done with pain and a broken heart. It was not worth it.

Eventually she pulled herself upright again and started walking. She had no idea to where, which she then realised that with crutches was a really bad idea. She had to stop a few times, exhaustion taking root. But the pain in her leg was keeping away the pain in her soul. It was much later when she realised she ended up in the west of Orynth and decided to go to west station, perhaps she could bribe the guys to give her a lift back to her firehouse.

Once outside the station, Thomas was the first one who noticed her. He ran to her and Aelin collapsed in his arm.

“Aelin, what are you doing here?’

“I need to sit” was all she managed. He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the section with all the bunk beds. He placed the crutches on the floor and sat on the bed at her side.

“What happened?” He asked when he noticed her puffy eyes “Why are you over here? On your own?”

“I was at the airbase.”

Thomas looked at her in shock “are you telling me that you walked in your condition from the airbase to here?”

Aelin nodded. “Can you give me a lift back?”

“Of course,” he patted her leg “let me go and tell the guys.”

He came back not long after, and lifted her in his arms “Let’s go.”

Once in the car Aelin relaxed and leaned her head against the window.

“Excited about the big night with the Mayor?”

Aelin groaned and Thomas laughed.

“Exactly the reaction my whole team had as well.”

She sighed “Dorian said it’s mandatory and I think for the very first time I have been this close to hit him. But he still is my superior.”

Thomas chuckled “If there is someone who can hit the chief without repercussions is you.”

Aelin turned and looked at him with a questioning stare.

“I mean because you are close. It’s not news that the man is madly in love with you. He might let you off if you beat him. Actually he might even like it.”

This time it was Aelin’s turn to laugh “Dorian and I… nothing ever happened. We are just really good friends. Not even a kiss.”

“So now the news is that you have your eyes set on a certain airforce captain.”

Aelin tensed at those words “You all are a bunch of crazy gossiper, you know that?”

Thomas shrugged “What did he do?”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” Her tone hard and the man at her side realised it was time to shut up. They were at her station anyway.

Aelin noticed the engine was back and she knew she was in trouble. They clearly had noticed her absence. When she decided to look at her phone again she saw a lot of message and missed phone calls from Aedion. Damn, she was screwed.

“Here you are, my lady.”

Aelin leaned over and kissed him on the cheek “thank you so much for the ride.”

“Anytime.” He opened his mouth as if to speak, then stopped and tried again “if you need to talk, I am here. I know you have your friends, but if you prefer to talk with someone who is not around you all day, I am here.”

“You are wonderful.”

He helped her get out of the car, they said goodbye and he drove away again.

Aedion came marching on as soon as he noticed she was back “where the hell have you been? Why don’t you answer your bloody phone? We came back and you were not here, where you were supposed to be.” She felt bad for making them all worry but she did not feel like explaining herself so she just moved past him and in silence she dragged herself to her office and slammed the door shut.

She sat down at her desk and plopped her leg on the spare chair the guys had placed at her side so she could stretch her injured leg, hoping for the pain to subside. She took a few minutes for herself, then texted Lysandra telling her she needed her and Elide.

The two women arrived a few minutes later. They sat on the chair in front of her desk and Aelin knew that Lys was just as mad as Aedion had been.

“Where were you? We came back and you were gone.”

“I went to the airbase.” She confessed, looking outside the window, the sky looked heavy grey and she was positive snow was coming.

“As in the airbase. His airbase.”

Aelin nodded “I needed answers. I needed to know why he left that way. I had to ask him why all this hate.”

“And?”

Aelin felt tears sting her eyes again “he was gone.” She paused “the whole team has been recalled and left for a mission a week ago. No goodbyes. Nothing. He just took off.”

Lysandra stood and ran to hug her friend “what an arsehole.”

Aelin started sobbing again “all I could do was leave him an angry voicemail telling to get away from me forever.”

“I am seriously going to kick his arse.”

Aelin pulled back from the hug “Not worth it remember?”

“We all go to that stupid party and we’ll find you a man there. Perhaps a hot wealthy man.”

Aelin chuckled “You know what, screw it. I’ll remain single all my life and if I want a good time I might ask Ansel.”

The two women laughed “she might take you up on that, you know, right?” Added Lysandra.

“Can we just stop talking about it? Fine he is hot but is he not a nice man. I want to forget that I even contemplated the fact that I had feelings for the bastard.”

“Copy that. I will pass the message along.”

“Have you considered that he might not be able to reply to you because of where he is? Perhaps he is on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the sea.”

Lysandra and Aelin stared at Elide.

“What?” She said shrugging “Lorcan gave me his number, he told me to text him. But he added as well that in the case he was going to leave for a mission not to worry if he did not reply because sometimes their phones don’t work.”

“So you knew they were away?”

“No,” replied the woman lifting her hands “I haven’t heard from him in a while. He is not the greatest of texter and I haven’t spoken to him in a while. I had no idea he was away until now when you told us.”

“Basically airforce boys do not know how to communicate. Got it.” Sarcasm dripping from Aelin’s voice.

Aelin shifted uncomfortably in her chair and Lysandra noticed that.

“Are you okay.”

“Just my leg, bothering me like hell today.”

“Sure, if you only just didn’t walk from the airbase to west station…”

Dispatch alarm went off and the two ladies ran out as the ambulance was needed.

Aelin tried going back to work but her brain was not there.

Out of boredom and curiosity and probably a deep desire for punishment she looked up the captain online. The search engine brought up a page about him. He was only two years older than her. Native of Wendlyn but moved to Terrasen when he was quite young for his father’s job. According to the article he climbed the ranks quite quickly and was thought to be one of the most promising captain in the TAF in a very long time.

“Nerd.” She joked.

Then she scrolled down to personal life and she got even more curious but froze when she read the paragraph.

Fuck.

The man had been married. His pregnant wife had died in a car accident over a year and a half before. She opened the link to the newspaper article about the accident and noticed the picture of the accident site. Her eyes fell on one detail of the image and swore.

She stood and wobbling she went to the file cabinet where she kept the reports for the old cases. She found the one she needed and sat back down. Lyria Whitethorn, that was the name of the woman. She had a look through the case file. She did remember it. It had snowed heavily and the road and had been icy and pretty bad in some areas of town. That accident had been horrendous and it had involved quite a few cars. Lyria’s car had been stuck under a lorry. According to the police it seemed like it had lost control and smashed under the lorry that had crashed against the barriers at the side of the road. She died on impact. It had been an horrendous night. They spent hours working under the snow and only one person had come out alive from that disaster.

She leaned back and felt tears running down her face. They had one big thing in common. They both had lost someone they loved. And all of a sudden it hit her. His reaction. His fear. And for a moment contemplated that he was just as scared as her to get involved again. She closed the file and  grabbed her head in her hands. How badly had she fucked up? 

She took her phone and dialled his number. The number was not available and she left him a voicemail message again “Hey it’s me again. I know you are away and probably can’t get this message. If you listen to the old one as well, just ignore it. I was mad. I did not mean it. I… just… let’s just talk when you get back. Please. Be safe, okay?”

She leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes and cried for both of them, for what they had lost and for the fear of committing again. 

Saturday eventually arrived and Aelin was at home getting ready for the party. Lysandra and Elide had joined her since Lys was going to drive them all.

Aelin had been in a bad mood since her discovery about Rowan but had not told anyone about it. To do so would mean reveal his secret and she could not to do that. It was far too personal.

“You’d think that being barely able to walk would excuse me from such horrible events.” She growled while tying her tie.

“You have been in a funk for a few days. Are you okay?” Lysandra had noticed her bad mood.

“Fine.” She snapped. “I am sorry…”

“Just don’t piss off any politicians, okay? We need them.”

Aelin sighed “I will behave.”

They arrived at the venue not long after and they noticed the already high number of cars present.

“Are we too late to bail?” Asked Elide who had been uncomfortable as well at the idea.

“Unless you want Dorian to rip you a new one, I would leave aside that plan for now.”

The three women made their way to the main entrance where someone checked their names against a list. Aelin for a moment hoped that someone had messed up and forgot to add them.

But that hope died quickly when the man greeted them a bit too happily.

“Ok, are we ready?” Said Aelin gathering the courage she needed to face such a horrible night.

They entered the venue and the notes of classical music hit them.

“At least they have great taste in music.” Commented Aelin staring at the great hall.

Dorian spotted them from the distance and walked to them with a brisk pace “Ladies, you made it. wonderful. Go, mingle, have fun. There’s plenty of food.” He grabbed Aelin’s hand “You come with me. The mayor wants to meet you.”

“What?” Blurted Aelin, sweating cold all of a sudden.

“The mayor would like to speak with you. He met Thomas already. Now it’s your turn.”

“I am not speaking to the mayor.”

“Aelin… this is an order from your superior.”

The woman growled back “Oh, so pulling rank, now?”

“Come,” he repeated.

Aelin turned to Lysandra and Elide “if I don’t come back soon, please come and get me. I love you both.”

Dorian rolled his eyes and he started walking and Aelin followed behind.

Eventually they arrived where the mayor was entertaining some guest and Aelin wanted to turn away, but Dorian sensed her intentions and placed a hand on her lower back in warning.

“Ah, Dorian, I see you have captain Galathynius with you. Wonderful.”

Aelin leaned on one crutch and extended her hand to the man “please to meet you sir.”

“The honour is mine captain. And thank you for coming even in your conditions.”

As if I had a choice and she looked at Dorian glaring at him.

“I just wanted to offer my thank you in person for what you do in the community and what you did the night of the embankment accident.”

“The community comes first.” She commented and Dorian gently nudged her sides at her comment.

“You are absolutely correct, captain. I am aware that you will be getting a second engine at east station, I hope this is a welcomed news.”

Aelin smiled “Very much sir. It has been a long time coming and we are very excited.”

“This is my email,” he gave her a business card “email me. Any idea, concerns or anything else related to your job. I will do my best to make it happen.”

Aelin took the card and was speechless. 

“Now unfortunately being the host forces me to go around and be pleasant with all these strangers. I don’t think there is alcohol enough to survive such an evening.”

He gave her a huge grin, waved at Dorian and walked away.

“Are we sure that was the mayor?”

Dorian nodded dumbfounded.

“Do you think he was drunk?”

Dorian shrugged, just as confused as her “Just don’t loose that card.” The man then left her and she had a moment alone to look around and enjoy the music. She hadn’t been at a classical concert in a lifetime and missed it. Or at the opera. She wanted to go to the opera again.

She had her eyes closed when she perceived a figure at her side. She opened her eyes again and noticed it was Thomas, looking at her in a curious way “Hey you.”

She looked at him and froze. The man in front of her was gorgeous. She was used to see him in his everyday uniform or the fire gear, and his hair tied and under an helmet. She almost did not recognise him. He had his dress mess uniform on, and his hair was free and she discovered it reached his shoulders. 

“I almost did not recognise you there.”

He grinned “I know, without soot and dirt on me it must be a challenge.”

She smiled back at him.

“How is your night going?” He asked, moving closer to her.

“Counting the minutes until Dorian tells me it’s okay to go home.”

She shuffled in her position and he placed a hand on her back “you should sit down.”

“Does this place have a balcony?”

Thomas grinned “Follow me, m’lady.”

“Did you meet the mayor?” She asked as they started walking.

“I did.”

“And?”

“He gave me his business card and told me to tell me if there was anything we needed.” He made his way through the crowd.

“Me too. I am going to email him and ask a bucket load of expensive equipment.”

“I have my wish-list ready.” Thomas commented smiling wickedly.

They arrived at the balcony and once there Aelin leaned heavily against the wall.

“Are you okay?” Suddenly Aelin noticed their proximity. Thomas was right in front of her.

“I am fine.”

“Want something to drink?”

“Please. Wine if they have it.”

He smiled and she noticed his dimples appear “I’ll be right back.” And she felt her face flush hot.

What was happening to her? Why all of a sudden she was attracted to him?

She saw Lys walking by and waved at her.

“What are doing here?”

“Hiding.” She said hurriedly “I have a problem.”

“What did you do?”

“I want to do something stupid.”

“As in?”

“Thomas.” She explained.

Lysandra looked at her friend with a puzzled face.

“As in he is the one one I want to … do”

“Holy fuck,” she exclaimed almost spilling all her wine on her uniform.

“How?”

Aelin looked up “I don’t know. He was here, he was nice, he smiled and I just… have you seen him tonight?”

“No I was with Aedion and the guys.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Don’t do… anything.” Then she moved away “he is coming back.”

Thomas came back with the drinks and placed them on the ledge beside them.

She had known and worked with the other captain for a very long time. They had gone through the academy together. And never, not once she had ever felt a smidge of attraction for him.

He leaned against the wall just beside her, shoulders brushing gently “is your team ready for the performance review?”

Aelin nodded “Yes, Aedion and I are going through as many different scenarios as possible. They are ready. But I hate that I will have to stare from the sidelines.” She told him “How did yours go?”

Thomas drank some wine “We had a few bad moments. My newbie fucked up a couple of things and threw the whole team off track for a moment but they did recover splendidly. Manon was the best in our individual challenge.”

“Ohh I like her. Can I please get her and Asterin for my new engine?”

“We’ll see.” The man gave her a wide smile that made his dimples come back.

She pinched his side and he grabbed her hands to block her. She stopped and stared at him for a moment and then they both moved at the same time. Their lips met and he pushed her against the wall and she left her crutches fall on the ground. His hand behind her back to hold her up. The kiss deepened and Aelin opened for him and a small moan escaped her.

“Oh shit.” Said a voice at her side and Aelin recognised Lysandra and Aedion at her side.

She and Thomas broke apart quickly. Thomas coughed embarrassed, looked at Aelin and excused himself.

“What the fuck was that?”

Aelin’s hand went to her mouth, her lips still swollen by the kiss.

Aedion kneeled to pick up her crutches and passed them to her.

In that instant the rest of the team arrived.

“Why is everyone out here? It’s cold.”

“Aedion and I just discovered Aelin making out with Thomas.”

“Do you mean captain Hamilton?” Asked Brullo.

“I thought you liked the silver haired fox.” Added Ansel.

“Are you and Thomas a thing now?” This time it was Ren.

“I don’t know okay?” Aelin shouted, frustration rising “It happened.”

“You… happened to trip on his lips?” Nox gave her a smug smile and Aelin would have stormed out if she hadn’t been on crutches.

Aelin placed the glass back on the ledge and started to walk away. Lysandra caught up with her “I am sorry. It just came out.”

“Lys, I don’t care.”

The woman grabbed her arm “Aelin, please…”

“What? I don’t know what I was doing okay? We kissed. And I don’t understand my feelings anymore.” She leaned against the wall, her knee throbbing with pain “I haven’t known my feelings since Sam died.” She sniffled “I work. I throw myself into work because that it’s when I do not think that he is gone from my life.” She closed her eyes and tried to put all her pain back “it just felt nice for a moment to have that again. And I know I am sounding like a pathetic mess… I don’t know why I did it.” Aelin sobbed “I am so tired of hurting.” A tear appeared at the corner of her eyes “you have Aedion. I don’t have anyone.”

Lysandra hugged her friend “I am so sorry.”

Aelin leaned into her friend “we are fine.” She pulled back “but I am going home. I am in a ton of pain and I really want to lie down.”

“I’ll tell Dorian if he starts looking for you.”

“We are off tomorrow. Fancy a girls day? We can invite Elide and Ansel.”

“Yeah. Yeah, please.”

“Good,” Lys patted her shoulder “now go home and relax.”

She was outside ready to call a taxi when she heard a voice calling her. She turned and saw Thomas running to her.

“Aelin,” he stopped in front of her “I am sorry. I have no idea what got into me. I was there and all of a sudden I wanted to kiss you.”

She turned to him and moved closer enough to kiss him. His hand slipped to her waist and pulled her closer. She melted in his arms and felt his hand caressing her back.

“I was going home.” She said against his lips.

“I can’t let you piss off Havilliard on your own.”

She kissed him again and then detached so he could call a taxi.

Their ride home arrived not long after and the journey to Aelin’s flat was not too long. 

They made it to her flat and he lifted her in his arms and walked to the bedroom. He dropped her on the bed and leaned on top of her and kissed her deeply, his hands trailing on the sides of her body and Aelin leaned into the touch. Her hand trailed up to his face and then fisted into his golden hair and pulled him down for another kiss. Maybe it was a mistake but she could not care.

Slowly he started to unbutton her shirt and Aelin did the same for him and not long after they were both naked and Aelin stared at his body and realised the man was so incredibly well built. 

“You will have to lead the dances, captain.” He lowered himself again over her and kissed her in a way that made her forget all the pain and hurt.

It was later, after their adventure in bed. 

Aelin smiled at him satisfied. The man had skills and for a while he made her forget the real reason why that night she had searched for comfort in him.

They were now sitting in bed, their back against the headboard and the blanket covering them up.

“Did we just mess up our friendship?” He asked turning to her “I am not complaining I just…”

She sighed at his side “I think we did it for the wrong reasons.”

He agreed “Epically awesome rebound sex?”

Aelin nodded and Thomas turned to her “you are stunning though, and if the captain can’t see it, well, it’s his loss.”

“You are a sweet man” and she caressed his face “and your ex is a bitch.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him down, “fancy watching stupid movies? We can also order in. There’s a place round the corner that stays open till late. I had no food at that stupid party.”

“I’ll get the beers.” He said getting off the bed and putting his briefs back on. 

Aelin grabbed a discarded t-shirt “I’ll order the food.”

He came back with the beers and offered one to her “to our own party.”

They clinked the bottles and went to camp on the sofa.

TAGs: 

@rowaelinismyotp

@swankii-art-teacher​

@courtofjurdan

[rufousnmacska]

Do you think Aelin used Dorian?

In COM, when Aelin and Dorian had an argument about how Dorian was hanging hanging out with Roland, Dorian said something along the lines of "what do you care? The only reason you are kings champion is because you used me.". Aaaaand in typical toxic fae fashion, she growled at him instead of responding.

I mean, it certainly didn't hurt having the Crown Prince in her back pocket, during the contest. So it leads me to believe that she did use him. (Knowingly or unknowingly).

Tbh, i really don't think she was all that of a good friend to him.

1. When the stopped seeing each other, she went behind his back and slept with his best friend (if that happened irl I would cut a bitch off for doing that).

2. Completely ignored him in COM

3. Didn't even think of him in HOF

4. Only "saved" him because Chaol begged her to. Manon, added to his own inner strength, saved him.

5. Disrespected him in EOS, pretty much disregarded his opinion. That gave room for Aedion to Disrespect him.

6. Completely ignored him, when he was grieving over Sorscha.

7. Was unsupportive when he was moving on with Manon.

Wow. 😮

It’s been a while since I’ve read all the tog books, especially the first two. I tend to start with book three on rereads because Manon. 🙂

In Tog, Dorian and Celaena were both initially using each other. I think it’s contained in an extra you can find online (or maybe it is in ToG), but Dorian is pretty clear about using her as a means of pissing off his father and trying to show he could play these political games too. And she’s using him to gain her freedom. But as time went on, I think their friendship was genuine and they had some cute moments. I was bothered by her treatment of him in CoM. Not because she ended up with Chaol but because she wasn’t able to see Dorian as just a friend and treat him as such. Even after he lets her go. But remember, while they were all pretty young, Celaena was the least experienced and new to relationships, both romantic and platonic. I think by the end she and Dorian had grown and settled into a stronger friendship.

I think it’s reasonable that she didn’t consider Dorian much in HoF. That was her healing arc book and she had bigger issues to work through. He wasn’t really a problem in her life. Not like Chaol. Or her identity and past. So it makes sense to me that Dorian wasn’t front and center in her mind.

In QoS, I found Aelin pretty annoying overall. Chaol too, though that opinion seems to be pretty popular. On the one hand, I think Aelin was thinking as a queen and not a friend when it came to Dorian. And I can understand that, if not personally agree with it. She also was trying to keep herself from being hurt. She saw killing Dorian as a mercy to him, but also herself. Cut her losses now as a type of self protection. Regardless, her being so quick to give up on him really bothered me, even if I could see how it made sense for her character to react that way. I thought their talk at the end was good, but too short, and therefore lacking. SJM could’ve done a lot more with that reunion. Especially considering Aelin’s history with Sam, and that the main trio aren’t together again until towards the end of KoA.

EoS was … weird to me. Aelin seemed like she didn’t care about Dorian at all beyond his role as an ally. She was often condescending and disregarded his opinions. I’m not sure why. I know she was under a lot of pressure, some of it self imposed. And again, there were times she was in queen mode, but not all the time. So yeah, that bothered me a lot. And her reasoning wasn’t as clear to me as it was in QoS. It put the Dorian-Manon interactions into a brighter spotlight though, as Manon was one of the few people who respected what Dorian had to say. (Rowan was the other.) Maybe that was what SJM was trying to do?? Bring Dorian and Manon closer by separating him from Aelin? I don’t know. I appreciated the Manorian stuff, but it didn’t need to be done at the expense of Dorian and Aelin’s friendship in my opinion.

By the time KoA comes around, they honestly don’t feel like good friends to me anymore. That’s largely because they don’t see each other until almost the end and their reunion is rushed. Instead of him reconnecting with Aelin and Chaol, we get everyone arguing about who will die to lock the gate and why it should be Dorian. I’m exaggerating. A little. But seriously, by the end of KoA, I felt like their friendship, which had been mostly well handled in the early books, was just something that was there. I know there were a lot of loose threads to tie off in KoA, but that relationship was really tossed aside in my opinion.

Overall I think you could argue that Aelin had a bigger impact on Dorian’s character arc than the other way around. Not that he wasn’t important to her growth. But she was a big first step to get him to reject his father. Sorscha was step two. From there, he needed to learn how to accept and respect himself. That’s where Manon played a big role. As for Aelin, Dorian helped teach her about friendship and trust and acceptance. But I don’t know that he was as crucial a breakthrough for her arc. All of that is my way of explaining why, even in the books where they weren’t together, Dorian seemed to spend more time thinking about Aelin than she did of him. I wouldn’t say that means their friendship was unbalanced, just that SJM used them differently in the other’s character development.

I hope that makes sense! It’s late where I am so my brain is starting to close down for the night. 🙂

(PS - I may not be taking Manorian fic requests right now but I love talking about them. So feel free to send in asks or private messages!)

[gh0stlyink]

𝔗𝔦𝔱𝔩𝔢 - ᴴᵘˢʰ, ᴺᵒʷ

𝔉𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔪 - ᴰʳᵃᵍᵒⁿ ᴬᵍᵉ: ᴵⁿqᵘⁱˢⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ | 𝔖𝔥𝔦𝔭 - ˢᵒˡᵃˢ ˣ ᵃᶠᵃᵇ!ⁿᵒⁿᵇⁱⁿᵃʳʸ ᴸᵃᵛᵉˡˡᵃⁿ ᵒᶜ

𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 - ¹,⁹⁷⁹

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - ¹⁸⁺, ᵐⁱˡᵈ ʷᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 - ᴱᵐᵉʳʸ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵃ ʳᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵐⁱˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱˢ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵇʸ ᵃ ᵐᵃᵍⁱᶜ ᵉᵍᵍ

✧○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○✧

"It isn't like you couldn't also take a break."

The words of Solas were swimming around in Emery's mind as they trudged through the gates to Skyhold. Even welcomes thrown at them from left and right weren't enough to slate his echoing voice.

I suppose I could have…

They had convinced Solas to stay at Skyhold for this last mission. Emery felt like he had been running himself thin weeks prior, so they wanted him to just take a break, but he decided to use the same argument on them.

Somehow, they had gotten him to stay, saying something to the effect of: "Well, I'm the Inquisitor. I can't just not do my job." Begrudgingly, Solas had relented, but he told them that he hoped they would be back in at most a week. Emery said they would try, and they did indeed.

However, it took them two weeks to complete instead of one. Emery had a feeling Solas was not going to be happy.

Regardless, they were excited to be able to see him again. To be able to listen to his stories of his travels in the Fade. To be able to trail their fingers across his shoulders.

To feel his lips brushing against their neck...

Emery quickly brushed those thoughts away. There were too many people around, and they didn't want to raise any suspicion. They still had some work to do before they turned in for the night, anyway.

That didn't mean Emery couldn't speak around before they headed to Josephine. They spoke to Varric for a while, and he told them about a possible scene in the book he was planning. They spoke to Dorian, who was possibly too curious about Solas, because he asked about whether or not Emery had seen him yet. They said no.

The conversation led them to search for Solas. It didn't matter if Dorian had figured out about their secret relationship. They had already thought about confiding in him, anyhow. He was becoming a dear friend.

When Emery entered the bottom of the library they looked around, only to see that no one was there. They searched around other places in the hold that he would frequent, but he was nowhere to be found.

Finally, they went to Josephine. She generally knew where everyone was.

"Hey, have you seen Solas around? I have a few questions for him?" They asked, trying to be as casual as possible.

"I haven't seen him since this morning," she replied without looking up. "Said something about gathering herbs."

"I see," they were just about to turn around and search even more for him, but Josephine cut stopped them short in their tracks.

"We have a lot of things we need to go over with you, Inquisitor."

And with that, Emery was practically dragged into the War Room. Their advisers knew how hard it would be to get them up in the morning if they had been let go so easily. Of course, Cassandra was the one who had gotten them all to agree to get Emery into the War Room as fast as possible. Only after going over several documents, sending out many orders, and going over resources, they were finally let free.

"It isn't like you couldn't also take a break."

His words were burning, now. They couldn't search for him now; it was impossible. Hopefully, he was waiting for them.

Emery could barely pick up a loaf of bread from the dining room before they escaped through the door to their quarters. The stairs were worse. Every lift of their knee made them want to fall backwards to simply crumple at the base, but the soft promise of their bed kept them going.

Final door. So close... So close... They pushed through, now, and practically fell-

No. They did fall, but they were caught. Caught? Caught by what?

Then the familiar scent filled their nose. The scent of elfroot and that sweet musk they could never describe. Strong arms tightened around them, holding them up from falling further.

They didn't have to look up to know it was Solas who had caught her.

"You seem you have gotten clumsier since our last meeting," his voice soothed, a hand slowly turning circle patterns across their back. The other one had secured the loaf of bread before it had fallen to the floor.

"I'm not clumsy," Emery said stubbornly, as they looked up through their ebony hair.

Solas chuckled and led them to sit in a nearby chair carefully. He placed the loaf of bread on the chair side table cloth, then he crouched down in front of them, taking the side of their face in the palm of his hand. "You look absolutely exhausted," he said more seriously, brushing locks of their hair behind a pointed ear.

"I'm fine. Perfectly fine," they tried to smile widely at him and sit up straight, but a spasm in their back caused them to shrink in pain. "Perhaps...not."

Solas sighed, but smiled warmly. "Lucky for you, I supposed this would be the case." He got up and walked over to a table he had apparently set up with a bowl of water and neatly folded cloths.

"Yes, lucky for me," Emery murmured wistfully. They sounded like they would be able to fall asleep at any moment.

Solas wasn't about to let that happen yet. He was wringing out a cloth from the bowl of water, then brought it over to Emery. "Your day is almost done, Vhenan. Let's freshen you up a bit."

Emery would have moaned from the contact of the warm cloth upon their cheek if they weren't so tired. They couldn't help put lean into the feeling, their eyes closing easily.

Solas put his fingers below their chin and straightened their face. "Do you enjoy making my job harder?" He brought the cloth down their neck, earning an actual escape of breath from Emery's throat. He couldn't help but smile.

"Of course not," came their slow reply, eyes opening lazily to gaze at him.

He brought the cloth up the other side of their neck and along their jaw.

They shivered.

Solas gave them a loving smile, his eyes nearly closing from bliss. "I'm only teasing you," he was brushing lightly over their eyelids now. "You should only worry about resting now. I've got you."

Emery lifted their hand to grab his free one. They ran circles over his knuckles with their thumb. "Sorry I wasn't back in a week."

Solas laughed softly as he stood to put the cloth away. He then made his way behind the chair Emery was sitting in and started undoing the intricate braids that were holding up their hair. "Em, I'm just glad you're here and safe."

Emery sighed happily when his fingers ran through their loose hair, the tips of them working back and forth over their scalp. "Still, I thought we would-"

"Hush now, Vhenan."

His breath was at their ear now, hands moving down their neck and working into the tense muscles. Their shoulders relaxed, head tilting slightly forward.

The only words that were said now were soft spoken elvish. Emery couldn't understand them all, but they were soothing and sent gooseflesh across their skin. They were sure it was loving by the way he was speaking.

Solas was undoing the ties of their clothes now, starting with the pads on their shoulders. He was being so careful. It was as if they were a fragile sheet of glass. He eased the leather down their arms slowly, letting them fall unceremoniously on the floor.

He moved around the chair, fingers trailing along the back of their neck, and began with the ties to their shirt. Soon it had been slipped over Emery's head, added to the pile forming on the floor. He would get to that later, but he was too busy taking in the form in front of him. How they so easily melted into his touch.

He knelt down again in front of them to go for their belt. He wanted them to be able to sit for as long as they could, but it was getting near the time they would need to stand.

Once the belt was undone, he led his palms down their thighs, squeezing them gently as he did so. Emery was beginning to believe he was trying to work them up, but he was only making his way to work on the laces of their boots.

He untied them quickly, sliding them off, then got up and held out his hand. "Come now, I'll take you to the bed."

He didn't have to ask them twice, and they took his hand so he could help them up. He couldn't help himself from pulling them in his arms briefly to brush his lips down their neck.

This earned him a sharp moan, and they almost collapsed forward into his embrace, but he took their hand instead to lead them to the bed. Before he let them sit down, he worked their pants down to their ankles.

Emery sat back and helped him out by lifting their legs so he could pull them completely off. Their foot wrappings we're next, and quick to go. They were only wearing their underclothes now, which was a sheer top and undershorts.

That's when he caught sight of the wound on the back of their calf. "Blackwall told me about the pack of wolves."

Emery leaned forward to cup the side of his face. "That was nearly a week ago. It's basically healed now."

Solas shook his head. "Basically won't do," and with that he got up to get a fresh wet cloth, then came back to wipe at the bite.

Emery winced. Maybe the flesh was angrier than they thought.

"See? If I hadn't caught it fast enough you might have had to amputate your leg," he mused.

"It may be sore, but I know I took care of it enough so that it won't come down to that," Emery laughed, but they couldn't help but to scrunch up their face in pain. It didn't hurt so much to walk with, but touching it out right made it flare up.

"No, truly," Solas lifted their leg a bit higher. "I believe it was at the brink of falling off completely before I came to your rescue.

Emery let out a soft laugh. "You know what, for the sake of my energy levels, I will agree with you," they said, then placed the back of their wrist on their forehead. "Oh, Solas. Whatever would I have done. Without your magical touch I never would have-"

Solas was kissing up from their knee and up their thigh now, which had caught them off guard.

"O-oh-" they could barely get it out before Solas had pressed his lips to theirs; fierce, but soft. It sent a warming sensation through their chest, especially since he was between their legs. The hand that wasn't securely holding onto the back of Emery's neck was holding the back of their knee high up on his waist.

The moment was over quickly, but it had left Emery out of breath and wanting. He had abruptly walked away from them and towards the table with the loaf of bread.

"Wh-where did that come from!?" Emery finally let out, looking at the one before them with bewildered amusement.

"I simply could not help myself, Vhenan," he admitted, and brought the bread over to hand to Emery.

They took it gratefully and ripped a chunk off to stuff in their mouth. “You really are a tease.” they said through chewing.

“There’s more where that came from, I assure you,” he promised, nuzzling their ear affectionately. “Now eat while I bathe the rest of you and get you patched up, my love.”

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[Authors Notes]

this is a repost of a drabble i posted on my main, and honestly, it was so filled with errors, that i am going to delete it.

also, i want all of my stuff in one place

wattpad | ao3 | fanfiction | main blog | witch blog | consider supporting me<3

[strangerfictions]

Book Recommendations (Billy Hargrove x Plus Size Reader)

Request: Can I request Billy Hargrove x plus size reader fic? Reader is shy and plus size and is always wearing bright patterned shirts/high waist jeans. She babysits her neighbour's kids who go to the swimming pool a lot. She hangs around the sidelines when she's at the pool, never getting in, just reading. Billy always tries to speak with her because he likes her. Fluff please! Sorry if you're not up for writing a plus size reader

Warnings: Lots of Fluff!

Words: 3045

A/N: Thanks to @morganofthecoves1 for this awesome request. I had a blast working on this! First fic back after a little bit of a hiatus! College has been crazy since mid-March and so I had to push writing to the sideline while I focused on my degree. I am now finished the second year of my degree and honestly, I can't believe it but I loved this request so much so I knew I had to work on this for my first fic back! Also, I want to start writing more plus size fics as I am plus size and love plus size fics so damn much! If anyone has requests for them let me know!

 It was mid-July and the sun had been beating down on Hawkins for months now. You never got used to the heat during this time of year but you still had to work. Every year since Freshman year you had babysat your neighbour's kids and despite this being your final summer before college this year was no different. You didn’t mind because all you had to do was bring them to the pool every day and they were happy.

It was the hottest day of the year and so you knew bringing the kids to the pool was the best idea. You packed your bag to include sun cream, money, and two books to read by the side of the pool. You never really got into the pool as you never really felt comfortable in a bikini or swimsuit, especially around the girls of Hawkins who were considered beautiful because they were thin. It wasn’t that you weren’t confident because you were confident the majority of the time but having so little on in front of so many people made you feel vulnerable in a way. You knew you would eventually have to give in but not today.

You left the house early that morning wearing your usual attire. You loved the recent trend of colourful shirts and so you have been going out and buying them every couple of weeks. You now had an entire collection that you loved. You went for a tropical print shirt along with your blue high waisted jeans.

After you got the send-off from your neighbours you walked the kids to the pool for opening time. It was always best to get there for opening time because it got very busy very quickly. It didn’t take too long to get to the pool as you and the kids talked about random things on the way there. However, you were a bit early and so you all had to stand around in the little shade outside the gates of the pool.

As the opening time came nearer more and more people began to appear outside the pool. Before long you saw the familiar mullet-wearing lifeguard walk towards the gate. You and Billy had always been on different social scales. He was popular and you just about existed in high school. Despite this Billy had been trying to talk to you for weeks now but you were way too shy to say more than two words to him.  You watch as he opens the gate allowing people into the pool. The kids run in front of you to get your usual spot near the back of the pool. Both you and Billy yell at them to stop running at the same time causing you both to smile at each other.

“Morning Y/N!” Billy smiles at you as you walk past him.

“Good Morning Billy” you say quietly as you walk past him and over to where the kids have set up for the day.

The day went by as it usually did, hot and slow. It was mid-afternoon and you were sat at the edge of the pool with your feet dangling in while reading your book. It wasn’t like there was much for you to do by the pool and reading was something you enjoyed.

You could feel a shadow looming over you and you knew who it was. Every day Billy will approach you and ask you what you are reading today you will answer with as little words as possible and he will go back to his post for the rest of the day.

“So what are you reading today Y/N?” You look up from your book as Billy crouches beside you.

“Emma by Jane Austen” You say shyly looking back down at the pages.

“You know I’d love to read more classics but I just can never get into them they are way too wordy you know” You look away from your book and back at Billy surprised.

“You like to read?” You ask shifting a little as you feel the hot tiles beneath your jeans.

“Sometimes, when I get the chance. What would you recommend to start with?”

“Something small maybe. Ease yourself into it. I loved The Great Gatsby, it’s one of my favourites, so maybe that would be a good start?” You suggest as Billy stands up.

“Great thanks! I’ll stop by the bookstore later and pick up a copy. I’ll let you know how it goes.” He winks at you and walks back to his post. You glance around and spot some of the older women staring at you. That was all you needed.

The rest of the day went by quietly. You finished reading ‘Emma’ and spent the rest of the day talking to the kids who’s friends had left early that day. You got home around nine the night and spent the night lying in bed thinking about Billy and the fact that he likes to read. You always found stereotypes weird but one glance at Billy and you would think he would never have touched a book in his life. Although he had done well in English class so you weren’t all that surprised.

The next morning followed the same routine. Like clockwork, the same people turned up at the pool and just before opening Billy’s head emerged from the staff room. This time he was carrying something in his hand. The familiar blue cover standing out to you. He’s been reading ‘The Great Gatsby’ you thought to yourself as you pushed the kids forward so they could get your usual spot.

As soon as Billy opens the gates everyone dashes for their usual spots but you take your time knowing that the kids will save your spot.

“Morning Y/N” Billy says as you walk through the gates

“Morning. Enjoying Gatsby?” You stop beside him to catch his answer.

“You know what I didn’t think I would enjoy it all that much because you know it’s the twenties how great could it be but I am loving it!” He beams at you.

“Oh great, I’m glad you are enjoying it so much! Well, I guess I’ll see you later” You say turning around and walking towards the kids.

After setting up you sit down on the edge of the pool and sit there for the rest of the day reading.

After a few hours, the familiar shadow appears over you.  A little earlier than usual you thought to yourself. Billy crouches down beside you holding his book.

“So, I just finished it…and I did not expect it to go the way it did. Thank you for recommending it!” Billy says as you turn towards him

“Oh yeah, the ending is pretty crazy. I think that’s why I loved it so much. I’m glad I could help!” You smile folding your book across your knee, so it doesn’t fall into the pool.

“Got any more recommendations for me?” He asks

“Have you tried Gothic fiction before?” You ask to see what he is really into.

“Not really. I’ve heard good things though”

“Okay, I would say start with something like Dracula by Bram Stoker or Frankenstein by Mary Shelly” You suggest as you Billy takes in the info.

“Cool. I’ll check them out. I have a question for you?” Billy stands up getting uncomfortable from crouching

“Uhm sure!” You say not knowing where this was going especially since it was Billy.

“Why don’t you get into the pool?” He asks as you squint at him through the sun.

“No reason I just prefer being able to read on the edge and keep an eye on the kids” you lie to him. You can tell that he does not believe you but either way, he accepts it as an answer.

“Alright then well, I will let you continue. See you later.” You watch as Billy walks back to his post knowing that you are being stared at by the older women on the other side of the pool.

The next week goes by similar to this. You now stop at the gate to ask Billy how he is getting on with the book you recommended. He tells gives you his initial opinion and you go to your usual spot. Once he is finished, he will let you know by crouching beside you and talking about it with you for a few minutes and then you both go about your day.

Since you recommend ‘The Great Gatsby’ Billy has now read Dracula, Frankenstein, Moby Dick, The Picture of Dorian Gray, The Scarlett Letter, Animal Farm and Pride and Prejudice. You were enjoying talking to him about books. You even let him borrow some and that was something you rarely did! This little routine with Billy went on until the end of Summer. You knew it was going to happen, but you weren’t looking forward to having to give one last recommendation.

You were standing in your usual spot of the kids when you spot Billy coming to open the gates. The kids inch forward so they can make the most out of the last day of summer but you hang back letting the others in Infront of you. You walk in behind a group of older ladies who had stopped to flirt with Billy. You hung back behind them trying to remain as invisible as possible. Billy noticed you standing back and tried to get through the conversation with the women as quickly as he could. You watch as he gets a little irritated as the women keep talking.

“Sorry ladies I wish I could stand around chatting all day but I need to get to my post!” You watch as they walk away and Billy smiles at you.

“Hey sorry I didn’t know how to let them down lightly”

“It's alright. Just wanted to see what you thought of Wuthering Heights?” You ask fumbling with your fingers

“I went into it with an open mind but fuck it was bad. It was all so bad. I see what you mean now!” You both laugh knowing how bad you both thought of the book.

“Right! I never understood why so many people liked it. I guess in a sick way it's romantic but that’s a stretch” You say laughing with Billy. You look over to the kids to make sure they are doing okay but you then spot that you are getting evil looks from Billy’s admirers.

“We better walk towards my post before something turns nasty” Billy smiles at you as you both begin to walk towards the back of the pool.

“Thanks for helping me out by the way! It’s not often I get to talk to anyone about reading because…well, I’m sure you get it” Billy says quietly looking down at the ground.

“It’s cool. It’s something I enjoy and if I get to help someone out with recommendations then even better!”

“So, I’m guessing you are going to college soon?” He asks as he stops beside his chair leaning up against the frame.

“I’m leaving tomorrow. It’s going to be so strange leaving all of this behind” You say sadly shuffling on your feet as the heat burns through your shoes.

“What time do you leave tomorrow?” You look at Billy suspiciously

“I think we leave at about midday…Why?” You ask still giving Billy a suspicious look.

“Perfect! I need you to meet me here tomorrow morning just before opening time” You open your mouth to protest.

“Don’t question it just meet me around the back” He argues back at you

“Fine, I guess I’ll see you here tomorrow morning” You say walking away smiling to yourself.

The next day arrives faster than you would have hoped for. You weren’t ready to say goodbye to Hawkins just yet but NYU was now your home for the foreseeable future. You got up super early and finished packing up the last few things into your dad's car. You told your parents that you wanted to go for one last walk before leaving and so at eight-thirty you left your house and walked the same route you had been so used to walking for the past four years except you now knew that this would be that last time for a while and as you got closer to the pool your emotions began to catch up with you. You had to stop so you could hype yourself up. You knew you would more than likely be back next summer so after a few minutes of hyping yourself up and telling yourself over and over that you would be back you continued down to the pool.

Once you got to the pool you walked around the back to find Billy sitting on a wall cigarette in hand.

“Hi” you call over to get his attention

“Oh hey! I thought maybe you had decided not to show up.” He says throwing his cigarette on the ground and stomping on it.

“Oh yeah sorry, I had to stop for a few minutes…It’s weird knowing I won't see this place again until next summer” You say looking down at the ground embarrassed.

“Yeah, I get it. I was like that when we moved from California. It’s not a fun time but I’m sure you will fit in up in NYU.”

“Well, it’s not like I fit in here…anyways why am I meeting you in the sketchiest part of the pool?”

“Well funny you should ask! I wanted to thank you somewhere that wasn’t going to have onlookers and well the back of the pool never has onlookers so here we are”

“Thank me? For What?” You ask sitting down next to him on the wall.

“For the book recommendations and for talking to me about books. I always feel awkward reading but seeing you read at the pool gave me a little bit of confidence to do it so yeah thanks” With that Billy pulls out something wrapped in brown paper and tied with ribbon and hands it to you.

“I didn’t wrap it Max did.” Billy says as you take from him

“Billy you didn’t have to get me anything you literally could have just said thanks and went our separate ways and I wouldn’t have minded” You said as you slowly unwrapped the ribbon

“Yeah well, I don’t want to go our separate ways. You’ve been a great friend and I genuinely have had such a great time getting to know you the past few months so I would hope that we can stay in touch” You unwrap the brown paper to reveal a limited edition copy of ‘The Great Gatsby’.

“Oh wow. You didn’t have to Billy! I don’t think I can accept this honestly”

“Why did I know you were going to do that! You’re way too humble Y/N just take the damn book, please! I remembered when you recommended it to me you said it was one of your favourite books and well I saw it in the book store and thought you might like it so please just take it!” Billy pleads with you as you smile at him

“That’s sentimental and sweet thank you! I had planned on giving you something but don’t expect it to be something as impressive!” You take your backpack off your back and rummage and grab something out of it. You hand a book flipped over to Billy along with a fancy envelope.

“Okay so I didn’t have wrapping paper, but I saw this and thought you had to read it. It’s not your style at all but I’m sure it sparked something in you when you started talking to me” He flipped the book over to find that you had given him a copy of Emma by Jane Austen.

“Also there is a slip of paper in the envelope that lists about 356 books that I would recommend. Not all of them are classics but I think you will enjoy most of them. Also, there’s a library card in there you should check that out sometime…unless that’s too uncool for you.” You say laughing

“Wow…I didn’t expect anything from you all things considering. I guess we had a similar idea. Thank you I’m very much looking forward to reading this and all of the other books you have recommended. Who knew books could bring people together” You both laugh as you stand up.

“I better go. I still have a few more things to pack up before we leave this afternoon” You didn’t want to leave but you knew you had to

“Yeah of course. You better stay in contact though!” Billy says standing up in front of you.

“Obviously. I need to know what you think of all of the books you read from the list!” You both stand looking at each other awkwardly.

“I don’t want to leave. I know I have to but if I leave I may not ever come back again and that scares me” You say trying not to cry.

“It’s alright it’s time for you to move on and start your life elsewhere. You can’t stay in Hawkins all your life no matter how much you want to.” You feel a tear slide down your face and then all of a sudden you are fully crying. Billy walks towards you and pulls you into a hug.

“Jesus Y/N I didn’t think you were a crier” You eventually stop crying and pull away from Billy

“Sorry I don’t know why I am so emotional today it’s stupid because I’ll probably be back next summer and still have to babysit and do the usual summer activities but I just feel weird leaving” You felt stupid for how you were feeling but you also knew it was normal.

“How about I walk you back to your house that way you will be where you need to be and we can continue to talk?” Billy suggests

“Yeah, that would be great!” you say happily turning to begin walking out of the pool.

You both begin to walk towards your house and spend the entire time talking about books and you almost forget that you are leaving in a few hours.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[masquerade-story]

Chapter 2 - Strange Happening

"Help me get her onto the ground, quick!"

"Careful, careful! Watch out for her hands!"

Rayne and Grey hurriedly eased Crystal onto her side as the latter twisted and writhed with a clear expression of agony on her pale face. Grey carefully wedged a pillow under Crystal's head once she was safely on the floor, while Rayne worked to push the beds back to create more space. Lillian turned on the bedside lamp and scrambled for her phone, activating the timer to keep track of how long the seizure lasted. If it was longer than five minutes, she'd have to call 911.

Crystal twitched and flailed on the ground, her eyes wide and vacant, mumbling fragments of sentences and random words between shrieks of pain. Rayne knelt by her sister's head, gently sweeping aside tangled locks of blonde hair and patting the side of her clammy face. "It's alright, it's okay. There, there. You're fine, you're safe."

Grey scrambled up onto the bed with Lillian, his face grim. He clenched his shaking hands, trying to calm the frantic beating of his heart. It'd been a long time since Crystal had a seizure, and even longer since she had a really nasty one. Considering they stayed the night in a suspiciously unhaunted haunted house, and the things she said the night before, Grey couldn't help having a strange feeling it was all connected.

Was the timing of her seizure really an unfortunate coincidence?

Grey forcibly shook his head, chasing such ominous thoughts away. He looked over at Lillian to check the timer only to find her already looking back at him. Judging by the look on her face she had similar concerns, but neither was willing to voice them at the moment. Whether it was or wasn't a coincidence, the discussion of it could wait until Crystal was no longer hurting.

The twins exchanged a long silent glance, concern and fear mirrored in their eyes, before watching the numbers on the timer tick ever higher.

At the five minute mark the seizure showed no signs of stopping, so Lillian dialed 911. After a moment, her face paled until she was almost as white as Crystal. "There's no signal," she whispered, her voice a bare thread of sound cutting through Crystal's agonized muttering and Rayne's gentle murmurs.

Grey checked his phone just in case and shook his head, jumping off the end of the bed. "I'll be right back, maybe there's better reception outside! If not, I'll run to the car and-"

"NO!"

Crystal's sudden shriek stopped Grey in his tracks. He looked over his shoulder, and though her eyes remained vacant, she was definitely forcing herself to look in his direction. He hesitated before saying, "Crystal?"

"No... No don't... Fence, fence, fence, barrier, don't..." Crystal gasped for air, chest heaving as she struggled to breathe. Her body convulsed as though fighting against her attempts to communicate. "Not... Not yet! I... I'll... be fine... They... stay! Don't, don't, don't... Don't pass the fence!"

Grey looked on, helpless, unsure whether to abide by Crystal's wishes or go ahead regardless. Rayne carefully wiped Crystal's sweating face with the corner of her pajama shirt, blocking her vision while nodding at Grey to leave.

With her permission, Grey bit his lip and sprinted out of the room, bare feet slipping on the hardwood floors. He pinged off the walls in the hallway and took the stairs in a few clumsy bounds, landing hard on the ground floor. Pain briefly shot through his knees, but he ignored it and ran for the front door.

Grey took only two steps out of the house before he froze in place. He put his glasses on out of reflex on being forcibly woken up, but he still felt the need to pat his face and check that the stylish black frames were still there.

A thick, rolling fog encircled the house, forming a churning dome that obstructed vision of anything past the fence. The yard and house themselves were completely clear, not even so much as a tendril of mist clinging to the tall grass and weeds, with a faint bluish light level that suggested early morning.

Grey swallowed a lump in his throat. He checked his phone again, but wasn't surprised in the least when it indicated no signal. When he looked up again, he caught sight of...

Something.

Something big.

A dark shadow moved within the fog, undulating in a way that somehow made his stomach clench in fear. There was no way to guess what it could possibly be, only that it was even bigger than the house, and circling the yard at an impressive speed.

Wordlessly, Grey backed into the house and shut the front door. When he returned to the room, Rayne looked at him with a hint of annoyance in her gaze at having him return so soon without any help while her sister was still in pain. "What, did you get lost?"

"I, uh. Think we just have to wait this out, actually."

"What are you talking about? She needs an ambulance! Or at least a paramedic!"

"That... Might be impossible."

"Dorian!" Rayne snapped, but froze when she realized how pale he'd gotten. "What's going on?"

"I... I don't know exactly? But I think... I think we should listen to Crystal."

"Crystal's having a grand mal seizure, she has no idea what she's even saying!"

"Look outside."

"Dorian Grey Duvall-"

"LOOK OUTSIDE!"

The girls flinched when Grey raised his voice. He never yelled, no matter how angry or upset he got, so he knew it would get their attention. He still felt bad though, as the sound of his yelling made Crystal instinctively flinch in the middle of her twitching, tears springing to her eyes, pained muttering turning into fearful whimpers. Rayne flinched too, but most of her attention was focused on making sure her sister didn't hurt herself.

Lillian sprang off the bed, edging around the beds to the large window overlooking the front yard, hesitating only a moment before she threw open the curtains.

She stared. Her body started trembling, and she was only able to wrench herself away from the view when Grey placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"That's... Grey, what the heck is going on?"

"How should I know? But that's what I saw when I went outside, and I... I figured I should listen about not leaving."

Rayne frowned, glancing between Crystal and the window. "What... Is out there?"

"Manda. Or maybe it's a Leviathan..."

"W... What?"

"The kaiju. Big sea snake?"

Rayne opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Before she could ask, both Grey and Lillian simultaneously pointed at the window with as much emphasis as the silent gesture could contain. Crystal's convulsions lessened to involuntary twitching rather than erratic flailing, so Rayne made sure the pillow was firmly under her sister's head before getting up to look for herself.

Rayne preferred contacts, but she didn't have time to put them in since Crystal's scream woke her up. She fished in her backpack for a spare pair of glasses, and slipped them on so she could actually see whatever was making the twins tremble like leaves in a storm. When she pulled back the curtain, Grey took another peek at the thing over her shoulder, unable to resist the feeling of awestruck yet terrified curiosity.

Rather than seeing a creature's physical form, Grey felt like he was seeing the fog move to avoid touching a continuously moving sinuous black void, an absence of existence instead of a living thing. Trailing wisps of fog hinted at fins, or wings, or limbs of unimaginable shape and usage. The longer he stared the more his head started to ache from the incomprehensible ridiculousness circling the house, and after a few moments he had to look away again.

"The way it's moving..." he muttered to himself, closing his eyes to fight off the headache stinging his eyes. "It's like it's... Diving? Weaving in and out of the ground outside the fence... Like the ground isn't even there."

"I couldn't see any of the trees," Rayne whispered, slowly closing the curtains to block the view. "There were so many, and tons of branches hanging into the yard, but I... I couldn't see anything. Not even the leaves of the bush near the gate."

"What is that thing?" Lillian whispered back, her already quiet voice almost inaudible. "Will it... Hurt us?"

"Eater... Eat, eat, the eater..." Everyone froze, then glanced at Crystal when her strained voice broke the silence following Lillian's question. She was still shaking, her hands twitching, but her eyes were bright.

Very bright.

"Yo, Coco? Your eyes-" Grey shouted, flinching when both Lillian and Rayne covered his mouth to silence his outburst. He barely resisted the urge to lick their fingers, pointing emphatically at Crystal's face.

Instead of the grayish-blue they were all familiar with, Crystal's eyes were such a brilliant and bright cyan that Grey wouldn't be surprised if they could glow in the dark.

Crystal raised a shaking hand to her face, dragging her fingers down her cheek, her nails leaving thin scratches on her pale skin. Rayne hurried forward to stop her, pulling her hands gently but firmly away from her face. "Crystal, are you alright? Can you hear me?"

"Eater... The eater... Eat, eat, eats... us not us!" Crystal whispered, her voice steadying but her wording remained obtuse. She turned to look past Rayne, her glazed eyes staring straight at the window. "Us not us. Shadows on the wall! Hand in the light, shadows connect the layers, the hands don't touch but the shadows connect one into one into two. Leaving the cave, passing the light, passing the shadow second star on the right!"

The more she spoke, the more frustrated she became. The expression on her face meant her mind felt clear, but she couldn't bring up the words to properly communicate whatever it was she wanted to say. It happened whenever she started to recover from either a seizure, or an anxiety attack, and Grey felt a pang of sympathy. He didn't have seizures, but used to have anxiety attacks with some frequency as a teenager.

"That thing won't hurt us as long as we stay inside the fence, right?" Grey said, and Crystal gave a single, jerking nod. "It's some sort of eater-thing that eats something that isn't fleshy meat suits, so we aren't in immediate danger?" Another nod.

Rayne sighed with relief, pressing her cool hand to Crystal's fevered brow. "Alright, we're good then. The rest can wait until you get better, so try to relax okay? Don't work yourself back up just when you've started to recover."

Crystal made a sound like a disgusted sigh, but still managed a third nod and closed her eyes.

Lillian made sure the curtains were firmly closed over the window, then glanced over at Grey and gave a little start. "Grey! Your eyes too...?"

"Have I gone blue?!" Grey gasped, horrified, but Lillian shook her head.

"No."

"Must you hurt me this way? Why would you get my hopes up like that?"

"I meant, they've gone... Bright."

"Bright?" Grey turned to make a face at his twin, but then he gave a little start of his own. "Oh! Like yours?"

"Mine?!"

They both ran into the nearest lavatory, fighting to be the first through the door, with Lillian emerging the winner but Grey pulling the underhanded tactic of grabbing the back of her shirt to lean past and be the first to look in the mirror.

"Yo! Yoooo? Yooooooooo." Grey dragged the vowels out further and further which each surprised utterance, turning his head left and right to examine his eerily unfamiliar bright mint green eyes. He leaned toward the mirror until the tip of his nose almost touched its polished surface, and slipped off his glasses to get a closer look. Then he turned to say something to Lillian, and froze mid-turn, staring at a point over her shoulder.

Just like his twin, Grey was legally blind. He was so nearsighted that he couldn't clearly see text on his phone if he held it out at arm's length. With his glasses on, distant objects were still blurry and indistinct.

Yet somehow, he was suddenly able to see individual quartz grains in the stone brick wall of the hallway. Grey frowned, checked that his glasses were still in his hand, then looked at Lillian. Her eyes were now a rich, vivid emerald green behind thick lenses. Grey snatched her glasses as he ducked past her into the hall, sprinting toward the far staircase. "Lils! Stay there and tell me how many fingers I'm holding up!"

Lillian sighed in annoyance at her brother's antics, until she noticed what Grey already discovered. "Um. I can... See you? You're holding up three fingers!"

"Now you, hold up some fingers!"

"Grey, what-"

"Just do it!"

"Alright..."

"There, that's two! Right? Hey, no dropping a finger to cheat!"

"What the heck..." Lillian muttered, staring down at her hand with the index finger awkwardly curled as though it froze in fright at being called out for cheating. "What in the world is going on?"

Grey jogged back over, handing over her glasses, while staring at his own with a mixture of wonder and confusion. "I... Have no idea. I think Crystal might know something, we'll just have to wait until she recovers."

"I know we're used to her knowing a bit about everything, but doesn't this all seem kinda... Outside even her purview?" Lillian asked, rubbing the back of her neck. "This whole situation is... It doesn't even feel real. I saw that thing outside and it still doesn't feel real. How can anyone know anything about what's happening to us?"

"I dunno, Lils. But worrying about it won't do anything, not while we have no other way to get information." Grey smiled in what he hoped was a comforting manner, patting Lillian on the shoulder. She quirked an eyebrow at him, a question in her gaze that she didn't bother to voice, so Grey ignored the look until she was ready to ask whatever lingered on her mind.

They both returned to the room where Rayne was frowning at her phone, leaning back against the side of the bed. She'd wrapped her sister securely in a few blankets, meaning Crystal's seizure was on to the exhausted recovery stage. The twins let out simultaneous sighs of relief seeing her safely bundled up.

"What happened?" Rayne asked, raising her eyebrows without looking away from the screen.

"Lils and I have perfect vision now," Grey said nonchalantly, flopping down on another bed. Rayne scoffed.

"No, really. What happened?"

"He's not kidding."

At Lillian's deadpan confirmation, Rayne finally looked up, glancing from one twin to the other. "Hold on... Seriously? Uh... Whoa. Damn, your eyes are super green. And your faces are naked?"

"Hmm..." Grey rubbed his chin, staring at Rayne's face. "I can't tell if your eyes changed, they're black as always. Try taking your glasses off? Look at the furthest wall over there."

Furrowing her brows, Rayne hesitated before also removing her glasses. She stared at the bedroom wall for a long moment, before her knit brows slowly rose once more. "Ah. I see."

"You see?"

"I see."

"You see good?"

"I see really good."

"How good is good?"

"There's an ant between the bricks toward the ceiling. If I focus, I can see its little legs wiggling about."

"Rock on. Crystal's vision too, I guess?"

Crystal stuck her arm out from the blankets to give a shaky thumbs up.

"Yup, Crystal too."

Grey groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the bed with his arms spread wide. "So the good news is, we've all developed a superpower that increased the clarity of our vision."

"Worst superpower."

"Agreed."

Rayne sighed, setting her phone on the bed and covering her face with her hands. "I had three bars before I fell asleep last night, but there's no signal at all now. There's no Wi-Fi installed here, and it's too far in the boonies to leech a signal from neighbors."

"So yeah, we just wait?"

"We just wait."

Crystal reached her arm from the blankets and tapped Rayne's leg. She drew a small circle in the air, with three fingers held up. Rayne sighed again, in relief this time, and gently patted Crystal's shoulder.

"Okay, she says we'll know more in three hours."

"She said all that with one gesture?!"

"That was the one-handed sign for three hours, and we were just talking about waiting."

"Damn you both and your secret sisterly sign language of love communication."

"It's American Sign Language!"

"It's a damned mystery is what it is." Grey huffed, pulling his phone from his pocket and holding it at arm's length just to marvel at the fact he could still see the tiny clock text even without his glasses on. "3 hours, huh? That'd be around 9 AM. Do we wanna go back to sleep, or do we wanna get up and have breakfast?"

Crystal made a hand sign Grey definitely recognized, at the same time that Rayne said: "Food, for sure."

They did rock-paper-scissors to pick who had cooking duty, then Rayne and Lillian went downstairs to make breakfast burritos. Meanwhile, Grey rolled onto the bed with Crystal, and flopped his leg over her. "Make room, I'm gay."

Crystal grunted, and awkwardly shuffled aside so he could lay more comfortably.

"Will all this be over in three hours?" Grey asked softly, folding his hands over his stomach.

Crystal hesitated, then shook her head.

"Will we die in three hours?"

She emphatically shook her head.

"Do you know what's going on?"

She stuck her hand out of the blankets and made a vague wiggling hand gesture.

"Are you well enough to text yet so I can get some answers?"

Thumbs down.

"Worth a shot. Lemme guess... You'll feel better in about three hours?"

She made the disgusted sigh noise again while nodding. Knowing her, it was because she was frustrated about not being able to communicate what she knew, and not annoyance at his constant questions. Grey mimicked the disgusted sigh, draping one arm over her while letting his other arm dangle off the bed.

"This is homophobic."

Crystal snorted, nudging his side with her elbow through several layers of blanket.

"Well it's true! Should have expected it when making a band full of queer folks, I guess. Rampant homophobia."

After a moment, Crystal rolled over within the blankets so that only her brilliant cyan eyes peeked out from underneath, staring at Grey with an intense gaze. "Are... you..." Crystal paused, her words fighting on the way out to get stuck in her throat. Then she took a deep breath, and tried again. "Are you... scared?"

"Hm? No, not really. I trust your danger sense that much, I guess. You're so overprotective, you'd warn us even if we were only gonna skin our knee! It's hard to be worried when you aren't."

"No... Anxiety?"

"Oddly enough, it's not..." Grey froze, and it was his turn to furrow his brows. Crystal's eyes squinted in the smug smile unique to a prescient as Grey scratched the side of his face in confusion. "Wait, why aren't I freaking out about this? There's a damn kaiju encircling the house! Ray is more worried about you so I get that, you are you so I get that too... Lils is trying super hard to not panic, but... Ah! Is that why she was giving me a weird look earlier? Cuz I said there's no point in worrying about it now instead of also being maximum panic?"

Grey slapped his forehead, and Crystal let out a soft, sleepy laugh. "All of us, same but... different now. Not anxious, because... No need. No danger."

"I kinda get it, but I also have so many more questions." Grey sighed, rubbing his temples, and Crystal made an apologetic noise of sympathy. "Just rest up, yeah? We can talk later."

Crystal nodded and closed her eyes, falling asleep in moments. Grey rolled over, staring at the curtained window with a curiously peaceful heart, even with the knowledge of what lay beyond their strangely isolated yard.

[novamm66]

Red Sky in the Morning - Chapter 24 - Sailor’s Delight.

This is it folks. The conclusion to my (first) story. I am a bit sad. This has been one wonderful journey for me and I have learned so much. 

I hope you enjoy.

—

Everything happened at once. Imshael screamed and exploded into its demon form the moment it lost contact with Kiaya’s magic. Dorian retracted the spell, and suddenly Kiaya was flying through the air to crash into Sera’s arms. The moment Kiaya’s knees hit the floor, she vomited, but she pushed Sera’s hands away.

“Go,” she croaked, “Help them.”

Kiaya’s head was spinning, and her eyes wouldn’t focus as she tried desperately to track what was going on. Dorian was casting while Sera was off to the left. Still, Kiaya couldn’t see far enough to know what was going on anywhere else.

Kiaya focused on Dorian’s feet and the snap of Sera’s bowstring, trying to ground herself. She was utterly useless in this fight, which was the point, but she would not abandon her friends and let unconsciousness take her. A call from Sera drew her attention, and Kiaya watched as the rogue raced to Varric’s aid before he was overwhelmed. This left their flank open, and an enemy fighter less than nine paces away. He was held in a trap for the moment but quickly fighting free.

“Dorian,” Kiaya croaked. 

“I see him,” Dorian answered. Then the fighter broke free. “Shit! There’s nothing I can do!” Dorian was balancing two spells already, and dropping either one of them was not an option. The fighter charged at the mage, ready to cut him down, but Kiaya lifted herself on hands and knees and lunged directly into his path.

Kiaya took his boots to her ribs before the man fell, trapping her beneath his legs. She tried to roll away, but she was too weak to push him off. She heard Dorian scream her name, but her vision was filled with the sword rising above her.

Before the blade could fall, Cole appeared and opened the man’s throat. The sword clattered to the ground next to Kiaya’s head, and in a blink, Cole was gone. It took all of Kiaya’s energy and focus to struggle free of the dead man. She crawled until she came up against stone, then collapsed. She tried to open her eyes to see what was happening, but she couldn’t move. She could hear the ebb and flow of battle, heard Imshael’s screams fade to silence. She tracked the footsteps of her friends as they approached her.

“Kiaya, can you hear me?” Dorian’s fingers pressed to her throat.

“What happened?” Cassandra was panting, but she sounded unharmed.

“She saved my life and took a hit to the ribs for the trouble. She’s alive.”

“Heal her,” Sera demanded from near Kiaya’s head.

“I can’t, not with mage bane in her system,” Dorian replied. Kiaya could practically hear him roll his eyes. “Help me sit her up.”

Kiaya felt a bottle pushed between her lips and tasted the bitterness of an elfroot potion across her tongue. Kiaya felt her strength return, and she opened her eyes and lurched to her feet.

Hands reached out to stop her, but she shook them off. “I have to know. I have to walk.” Kiaya took a few steps, her hand never leaving the wall. “Ok, that’s enough of that.” Kiaya sagged against the wall before Bull caught her and lowered her down to the floor.

“Easy,” he chuckled.

You’re a bloody fool.” Dorian knelt in front of her. “Attacking an armed opponent like that. How many fingers do you see?”

Kiaya squinted at Dorian’s outstretched hand, “Four, but I’m assuming the two floating around not attached to anything aren’t real.”

Dorian shook his head and started checking to see if anything was broken. Kiaya glanced around, taking comfort in the smiles of her friends.

“Imshael?” Kiaya had to ask.

“Gone,” Cassandra answered. “Banished back to the fade.” 

“Thank fuck. Can we go home now?”

—

Kiaya’s happy relief lasted until they entered Skyhold’s lower camp. It was evident by the activity that something had happened. Skyhold itself was just as busy, everyone moving with haste and purpose. Loaded wagons were rolling through the gates. Kiaya asked her friends to stay ready until she figured out what was going on, and she headed for the war room immediately. The advisors were leaning over the map, but they straightened and smiled when Kiaya entered.

“Welcome back, and congratulations,” Cullen said warmly.

“Thanks,” Kiaya reached for and squeezed his hand. “What’s going on?”

“Corypheus has surfaced again,” Leliana answered. “His army is tearing up the Arbor Wilds.”

“Just for fun? Or are they looking for something?” Kiaya frowned.

Cullen shook his head. “It’s definitely a search for something. Whatever it is, it’s unlikely that we want him to have it.”

“Isn’t that the truth.” Kiaya stared at the map, calculating the distance. “I guess there is no reason to unpack then.” She sighed.

Josephine patted Kiaya’s hand with sympathy. “You and your team can rest and ride out tomorrow. You will be able to catch up to the army quickly, which will be leaving within the hour. We have also just received confirmation the Orlesian troops we requested will meet you there.”

Kiaya glanced up in surprise. “Our army isn’t enough?”

“Reports have the red templars outnumbering us. I would guess it is most of his forces.” Leliana’s voice was grim.

The lightness Kiaya had felt from returning home was gone. Corypheus was still out there, and this time they had no idea what he was planning. “Alright, can you let everyone know to be ready to ride out again tomorrow at first light?” Kiaya asked.

“Of course,” Josephine answered and hurried out the door. Leliana followed her, leaving Cullen and Kiaya alone.

“It figures,” Kiaya sighed as she turned and sat on the edge of the table. “I’m getting back, and you are leaving.”

Cullen chuckled as he moved in front of her and placed his hands on her face. “I’m glad you are back in one piece. Are you alright?”

“Yes, although Corypheus has put a damper on our success.”

Cullen expressed his relief by kissing her slowly, deeply. Kiaya sighed her disappointment when he stopped, Cullen smiled down at her. “I wish we had more time, but I have to leave.”

“I was really looking forward to celebrating with you tonight,” Kiaya huffed.

“I know,” Cullen laughed, pulling her to her feet, “but I promise to make it worth the wait.”

—

“Where is she?” Cullen stormed into the tent where Leliana was questioning Samson as quickly as his bandaged leg and walking stick allowed. Cullen had taken an axe to the thigh while protecting Kiaya at the gates of the temple. She had been forced to leave him bleeding in the water as she raced Corypheus to the temple, and that had been the last time they had seen each other. It was easy for Cullen to let his desperation show.

Samson, stripped of his armour and chained, sneered at him. “How would I know? Bitch left me for dead.” His injuries from the battle had been healed, so they weren’t life-threatening, but he still looked battered from his encounter with Kiaya’s team.

Cullen was ready to lunge at the man, but Leliana beat him to it, striking Samson across the face hard enough to bloody his lip. “You are not in the best position for glibness. Next time I will let the Commander pummel you.”

Cullen leaned across the table that separated them. “Where would Corypheus take them?”

“That was always your problem, Rutherford: Always asking the wrong questions.” Samson grinned as Leliana shifted. “Corypheus has no interest in taking anyone anywhere. If he had caught her, all you would have found is the pieces.”

Cullen’s vision went red, and he reached out and slammed Samson’s face into the table. Touching the other man-made Cullen feel ill: he could feel the lyrium in Samson’s veins, and he backed away while Samson laughed through the blood streaming from his broken nose.

Leliana had watched the exchange with a relaxed smile. “Thank you, Commander. Perfectly done.”

Samson continued to snicker as the two moved to leave the tent. “Just look at us now, Rutherford. How far we have come,” he called after them. Cullen paused, but he didn’t rise to the bait, and Sampson’s gurgling laughter followed him out.

“You were right, he did respond better to you,” Leliana said as they walked the short distance to the command tent.

Cullen shook his head in disgust. “He has nothing left to lose and has no reason to tell us anything. I am glad he couldn’t resist taunting me even if we didn’t learn anything more useful.”

“We know it’s likely that Kiaya and the others are alive, given what Samson just said and the fury that Corypheus was in when he left. With three of the most powerful mages in Thedas, they are likely somewhere safer than we are.” Leliana touched Cullen’s arm reassuringly. “The question is, what do we do now?”

Cullen sank into a chair, his freshly healed wound throbbing from the short walk. “I would like to leave two divisions to help the Orlesian army flush out and deal with the remaining red troops. They do not seem to be organized, so it’s likely he has abandoned them, but they still pose a threat. A small compliment will ride back with us, and three divisions will follow quickly to bolster Skyhold’s defences if Corypheus strikes at us there. The remainder of the army will travel back with the wounded.”

Leliana nodded at his plan. “When do we ride out?”

“Tomorrow. I don’t like leaving Skyhold’s weakened as it is, and it’s the first place Kiaya will send word.”

—

To: C.C. & L.N.

We are back in the Sky. We are safe and well.

Are you?

K

—

To: K.T.

Message received. We are two weeks out from joining you.

I am well. Thank the Maker, you are alright.

C.

—

Cullen’s heart was pounding in time with his horse’s hooves as he rode onto the battlefield. It was Solas who approached as Cullen dismounted, the mage looming in Cullen’s vision. His voice echoed when he spoke.

“Corypheus is defeated, but the Inquisitor is dead.”

Cullen surged forward, his vision narrowing to what lay on the ground beyond.

Cullen bolted upright, his heart pounding wildly as his eyes darted around the room and canopy above until they landed on the sleeping woman beside him. Amazingly, Kiaya had not been disturbed by his outburst, and Cullen focused on her face, trying to slow his breathing to match hers.

It was only a dream. Cullen told himself. Once his heart stopped racing, Cullen shifted out of bed carefully and dressed. He wasn’t going to fall asleep again, and Kiaya had only just returned from a round of missions. She deserved all the sleep she could get.

Cullen had trouble setting into his work. His mind kept bringing back images from his dream. Eventually, he made his way to the Chantry, with the sun still well below the skyline. He knelt in front of Andraste’s statue and prayed until sunlight bathed Her face. When he finished and turned to leave, Kiaya was watching him from the doorway. He quickly crossed the room and pulled her into his arms.

“Are you alright?” Kiaya asked as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“Better now,” Cullen sighed into her shoulder.

“Nightmares?” She asked.

Cullen nodded. “I didn’t want to disturb you.” He held Kiaya tighter. “I can’t bear the thought that you have to face Corypheus again, that I have to send you against him, and there is nothing I can do. Kiaya, I…” Cullen’s words shuttered to a stop, and his breath rushed in and out of his lungs.

“Shhh. I know.” Kiaya sighed and stroked his hair.  Her fingers travelled to his jaw, and she looked deeply into his eyes. “Nothing is for sure, but I promise you that while there is life in my body, I will fight with everything I have to make it back to you. Our luck has gotten us this far. I love you, Cullen.”

They stood in the morning light, wrapped in each other’s arms until the breakfast bell sounded.

“Shall we eat before getting to work?” Cullen asked, keeping her hand in his as they moved out into the gardens.

“Unusual for us, but let's try it.” Kiaya laughed.

A few steps short of the doors to the main hall Kiaya froze. “Cull-” but her voice cut out as the mark snapped to life, and Kiaya doubled over and screamed.

“Kiaya!?” Cullen panicked, his eyes darting around the peaceful garden for any sign of a threat, but there was nothing that looked threatening. Doors and windows were banging open, but that was apparently in response to Kiaya’s cries.

The mark stopped as quickly as it had started, leaving Kiaya gasping on the ground. Before Cullen could do or say anything, Kiaya shot to her feet and took off running. She stopped on the top step outside the main hall doors, her eyes focused on the horizon to the south-east.

“What is going on?” Cullen asked, ignoring the confused voices from behind them.

“I don’t know.” Kiaya sounded strained. With a crack, the mark flared again, and if it wasn’t for Cullen catching her, Kiaya would have toppled down the stairs. Kiaya muffled her screams in Cullen’s shoulder. The mark stopped again, Kiaya’s panting breath the only sound Cullen could hear. A green light split the horizon, and moments later, a boom echoed off the mountains.

“Corypheus has reopened the breach,” Kiaya said. Her face was pale, and her eyes wide as she stared at Cullen. He could feel her shaking against him.

Skyhold suddenly exploded with activity. Alarm bells sounded, and the defensive measures they had put in place filled the air with running feet and shouted orders.

Kiaya looked up at him. “I have to go.” They stood together a moment before Kiaya pulled away and took off towards their quarters and her gear. Cullen headed down the steps to oversee the activity at the gate. Leliana appeared at Cullen’s side.

“Can we send soldiers with them?” She asked.

Cullen shook his head. “We don’t have the numbers. Most of our army is still days away; if we send any troops that we have here, Skyhold will be undermanned and at risk. Kiaya won’t agree to leave our people here unprotected.”

Cullen shaded his eyes. He could just see the signal flags up in the village below. Their soldiers would be organizing the civilians to come up to the fortress. It was going to get very crowded, very quickly.

Cullen and Leliana moved towards the stables as Kiaya and her friends appeared, quickly tacking up their horses. Cullen set Kiaya’s saddle and tightened the cinch while she fastened Rollin’s bridle. Cullen lifted Kiaya up onto the bay’s back, but then he couldn’t let go of her hand.

Kiaya’s fingers squeezed his. “With everything I have,” she repeated her promise. Kiaya kicked Rollin into a gallop, and her party thundered through the gates.

—

Night had almost fallen, but no one was showing any sign of leaving the rookery.

Cullen was pacing back and forth the length of the floor while Leliana was at the spyglass. Josie, Evelyn, Danin and Lyra were sitting on the barrels and crates stacked along the inner railing. They were waiting for news. The Breach had disappeared from the horizon just before midday, but no word had arrived yet.

No one spoke as the light slowly disappeared, the tension was palatable, so when Leliana hissed and swung the glass, everyone jumped.

“It is a raven. One of ours.” Leliana confirmed, and there was a collective sigh. But Cullen couldn’t fully release his worry. It seemed to take forever for the bird to arrive and for Leliana to retrieve the message.

Everyone was silent as she turned back to the group, unrolling and scanning the tiny scroll as she turned back to the group.

The relief in her smile told Cullen what he needed to know before she spoke.

“She won, and they are all alive.”

—

Kiaya stared at the bed canopy above her. She was tired, but sleep was out of reach. This was the first quiet night after the victorious return of Kiaya and her party to Skyhold. The celebration had lasted two days, and the party spread from the keep down to the camp below. Kiaya had been in high demand, and it wasn’t until now that her mind had a chance to catch up.

Kiaya sighed and slipped from the bed. She stirred up the fire and curled up on the couch in front of it. She was going to have to get used to being the Inquisitor. When Evelyn told her that she was pregnant again, Kiaya decided that she would step up and allow Evelyn to have the normal life she deserved. Kiaya was excited for Danin and Evelyn, but she wasn’t looking forward to the public role Kiaya would now fill.

Kiaya reached for her neglected sketch pad and pencil, opening it to a blank page and staring for a moment before starting to draw. Corypheus’s death had not eased the burden from Kiaya’s shoulders, and the victory felt hollow for her. She should be grateful for the ease of his defeat, but it had left her angry, and Kiaya wasn’t sure she would ever be able to let it go.

There was so much damage still left to repair, and much that would never be the same. Before Kiaya had reached Skyhold, Scouts had reported that there were still active rifts, and the red lyrium infecting the land hadn’t receded, while the political and religious landscape was drastically changing. The new Divine would be leaving for Val Royeaux in the next few days, and that would be the beginning of the end of Kiaya’s little family.

The lines on the page began to form a face, and Solas was looking over his shoulder at her. Kiaya was worried about him. He had taken the destruction of the orb personally and had disappeared before she had been able to talk to him. Kiaya knew in her heart that this time he wouldn’t be coming back. The rest of her friends were sticking around to help for a while, but eventually, they would need to move on as well, and that thought made Kiaya’s chest ache.

Kiaya knew that she was worried about the inevitable, and there was nothing she could do about it. Everything was going to be different now, and she was still burned by the mark. She hadn’t told anyone, but the mark’s power had changed: it was stronger, wilder, and it scared Kiaya.

She heard Cullen shift in bed. ”Kiaya?” His voice was foggy with sleep.

“I’m fine. Just can’t sleep,” Kiaya answered. She thought that Cullen had fallen asleep again, but after a few minutes, she heard him get up. He settled on the couch next to her.

“Sweetheart, I can feel your worry.” He kissed her shoulder. “You have done great things, can’t you give yourself a little time to enjoy that?”

“Apparently not,” Kiaya answered. “I know that I should give myself a break, but I haven’t figured out how to do that.”

Cullen waited until Kiaya looked at him. “Whatever happens next, we will face it together.” Truth and love glowed gently in his eyes, and Kiaya’s tension eased. She nodded, unable to think of anything to say. He kissed her tenderly. “Come back to bed. Tomorrow we will figure it out.”

Kiaya followed him and curled in close to Cullen’s chest. He gently rubbed her back, and the warmth and tenderness chased Kiaya’s anxiety away and allowed her exhaustion to pull her under.

She pressed her lips against Cullen’s heart and fell asleep.

********

There we have it.  Thank so very very much for reading.

Like and reblogs are always appreciated. Asks are very welcome too.

To read from the beginning the Master List is Here or if you prefer it is here on AO3

[alphaauthor]

The Quite One- Caliban

The Chiling Adventures Of Sabrina

Character: Caliban

Prompt: you are sabrinas twin sister living in her shadow, no body really notices you until caliban coms along

Sabrina has always been the more out going one of the two of us. She was the definition of a Morningstar when I was not. She was loud and I was quite only taking when I felt the need to. I liked staying at home with my cat, celeste,  and reading. Sure I liked to go out with my friends but if it came down to it I would gladly take a night at home.

Sabrina came walking into my room and shut the door. She looked at me as I put the book I was  reading down. “ what you doin Cass ?” she said trying to start a conversation with me, but I had a feeling that’s not why she came into the room. “ just finishing up a new book, why?” I said eyeing her when she walked father into your room. We had a stair off before she finally took a breath and said “ look it’s going to sounds crazy, but we need to go hell”. I looked at her and put my book down on the night stand next to you bed sitting up a little more. “ What do you mean we need to go hell?”

Sabrina looked at me and signed “ I can’t just leave nick down there, he did nothing wrong and is being tortured for it, I need to go to save him! And I need your help doing it.” She looked at me with hopeful and pleading eyes. After a lot more convincing Sabrina had convinced me to go to hell.

Not only had she managed to convince me into going she also convinced Harvey Ros and Theo into going with us. Sabrina found a way to get to hell. Currently you where standing with Dorian gray who was telling us that without the flower the spell to bring us all back would not work.

Sabrina looked at the painting before turning around to look at all of us “ I love you guys and also, stay close” she said. Sabrina turned back around and locked at the picture 

“ Here we pass into the unholy kingdom

through we pass into the city of fear

Eye into the gate for the lost and forsaken

Abandon all hope ye who enter here”

As Sabrina was saying the spell the wind stated pick up all around me. Sabrina walked forward the painting before placing her hand upon the painting and then it was like we where all falling and the next thing I remember is washing up on shore coughing up water in the sand.

Sabrina looks up form where she was and looks at everyone “ is everyone ok?” She ask you all look at her and shake your head yes. Harvey starts to get up and look around “ wait so hell is a beach?” He says with confusion in his face. I hadn’t notice until now but he was right we where all sitting on the beach. I noticed a rock with writing in it, “ the shores of sorrow” I read out loud to the whole group while still trying to catch my breath.  we all sat up and take a look around Theo stands up and points to something “ Guys look” Our eyes go to what he was pointing at, I stand up right next to him “ what are those?” 

 Right in front of my eyes there where cage like things with arms reaching out of them, the sight itself was very unsettling 

“ The souls of the damned” I heard a voice say from behind me. I turn around to see who the voice belongs to. What i saw was not what I was expecting, it was a boy who looked to be about my age with sandy color hair wearing a white open shirt. The mystery man makes eye contact with me as I turn around  “ they drown as the tide comes in, over and over for all eternity.”. the mystery man continues with eye contact with me, I want to look away but just can’t seem to pull my eyes away from him.

“ Hi” Sabrina says as she steps in front of me making me break eye contact with the man. In doing so blocking me from his view. from what I could see The mans smirk dropped as her looked at my sister.

“Where looking for Lilith” When he doesn't answer her she keeps going “ Madam Satan, Queen of hell? She’s in pandemonium if you happen to know the way”  Sabrina said in a cheerful voice. While moving me behind  her even more so that I could not see him. The man raised his hand and pointed to a trail of blood 

“ All blood flows to pandemonium”   he said with no emotion on his face. The man looked back and Sabrina “ Follow the blood red road where it flows and there you’ll find the throne of hell” Sabrina nodded and looked down the path of blood 

“ Thanks and you are?” Sabrina said while turning back to look at him. “  Never step off the road” he said while moving his hair out of his face and taking a step to the left so that I was in his line of sight, he looked at me with his smirk returning to his face. The man looked me up and down then moved his eyes to everyone feet. 

“ It’s clear that your wearing dead mans shoes” The man looked back up and locked eye contact with me, “ Any demon wroth his salt can smell mortal flesh from a mile away” The man says while breaking eye contact to look at Sabrina> The man starts to turn around to head the other way. We all look at each other wondering what just happened. Sabrina looks at me like I would have an answer but I just shrug my shoulders because I don't even know what just happened.

“ Come on, let’ s go” Sabrina says as she starts to walk towards the trail of blood. I take on last look and the man who went back to building his sand castle. He looks back up at me and smiles. I look back up to the group and do a little run to catch back up to them. all while I can still feel his eyes watching me. 

##########################

Let’s just say that hell was not a place that I liked very much and in all honestly I wish that I said no to coming. After being in hell I don't think that I would wish even my worst enemies to hell. When Lilith found out we where in hell she sent someone to come get us. I was not the biggest fan of her but in this moment I was grateful for her. 

Lilith told us about how the people of hell did not see her as their queen. She wanted us to tell the infernal court that we where handing over the throne to her and she would help us get back home and give us nick. Sabrina and my self agreed to, as the two of us did not want to  rule over hell. I would be happy to never come back here. 

Lilith sat in the throne in front of the court. Sabrina, me, Harvey, Ros and Theo all stood off to the side of the throne in a line. Looking out on the court just made me what to go home and finish reading my book even more as the court was scary and I wanted to be as far away from them as I could possibly be. 

“ Court I bid you welcome” Lilith said while sitting on the throne, the throne room became quite as she spoke all of them turning their heads and bodies to look at her. “The city of pandemonium has an honored guest, may I present to the hordes, Sabrina and Cassandra Morningstar daughters of Lucifer Morningstar”  She said while looking over to us. Everyone turned their heads to look at us. Making me very uncomfortable. I was not used to being in the spot light that was Sabrina's thing not mine. “In his absence they are here to officially declare me queen of hell” When Lilith finished the whole room turned into whispers none of each I could hear to understand. She looked to us as she continued “  isn't that right girls?’ I shook my head yes, Sabrina on the other hand answered her with words “ Yes, that’s right” 

The court did not look to happy that we where handing over the throne “ This is treason! Hersey” One of the Three Pelage kings, Beelzebub, said. Asmodeus raised his right hand into the air pointing at Lilith “  Lilith is a concubine, not a queen!” Beelzebub looked at me and Sabrina “ We do not recognize her.” Thinking that they made their point about not wanting her to be king Sabrina was going to step forward to tell them that it was the truth. While she was doing that I was slow making my way to stand behind Lilith as the men that already my stomach twist in knots kept raising their voices.

The Man kept taking before Sabina could get another word in “ The realms are in chaos, and the earth, the pit, the heavens, the cosmos they all reject Lilith's claim to the throne.” Lilith steps forward challenging them “ and who do you propose would rule?” The three Pelage kings start to laugh as if they had been waiting for her to ask them that. By now everybody was looking at me and Sabrina and the only thing I wanted to do was to go home and forget all about everything that had happened today.

“ All hail Caliban, prince of Hell” Beelzebub said. The sound of the throne room doors opening sounded. The person who stood behind them was not who I was excepting to see. The person who walked in was the one who had told us how to get here when we first got here. Caliban walks into the room his eyes looking around the room almost as if he was looking for something, “ Molded from the clay of the pit itself.  Native son of the inferno,  born to restore and rule our dark domain!” Sabrina looks just as shocked as I did to see that the person we saw when we first came to hell turned out to be the prince of hell. “ Umm Hi?” Sabrina said while looking at Caliban then looking back to where I stood behind Lilith. Caliban followed her eyes and looked at me. Caliban looked at Sabrina “ Hello again” He then turned his body more so he could fully see me as I stood behind Lilith “ Hello again Princess”  He said while looking at me. Caliban then turned his attention back the court in front of him 

“Since the Dark Lord's desertion,  the Nine Circles of Hell have been breaking down.  I, Caliban, will restore stability  and do what Lucifer failed to do  conquer the Earth.  Remake it as our tenth circle  and enslave the tribes of mortal and witch” Sabrina took a step backwards so she was next to me and Lilith who I had take a step forward to stand by her side. “ Tenth? Isn’t nine circles enough?” she said in confusion. I shrugged my shoulders. Lilith looked at us “We’ll lose everything” It was then that I heard a faint whisper “  Come to me girls” I looked at nick when I heard those words knowing who they came from as soon as the words where said. Nick looked back at me and Sabrina. 

The next thing I know i’ m in what in assuming to be nicks mind with Sabrina. “ Lucifer” I say as he walks into the small room. “ My darling daughters” he said while looking at me and Sabrina “ What a disappointment you two are.” “ right back at you” Sabrina fires back. “ You betrayed me, For that your suffering shall be legendary, even for hell” He said with fire burning behind every word he said. “  but you have a crown to claim” Lucifer said while looking at us, finding my voice I spoke up “ We don’t want the crown, never have and we never will”. Sabrina adds in “ All I want right now is my boyfriend back.”  Lucifer looks at us angerly “ Have you no pride girls? This so-called prince Caliban is made of dirt! You have royal blood in your veins! Only you two can restore the balance in hell” Sabrina looks at me then to our ‘dad; “ We don’t care about hell” Lucifer looked at us “ But you should.  When the balance is off in Hell, so it is off in Heaven,  so it is off on Earth.  It's basic cosmology: to preserve one realm,  you must preserve them all.  And already the chaos your failed abdication has provoked  threatens your precious Greendale.” I look at Sabrina in worry, Sabrina however just looked at him and calmly asked, 

“ What are you talking about? What threats” 

“ The old ones are coming, should be rolling in any minute now.”

“ you’ re lying, again”  do lie, and often, but not about this.  Nor am I lying when I tell you  that only a true queen has the authority,  the power, to liberate Nicholas Scratch from this realm.  And the kings will never declare Lilith queen,  no matter what you say or do.  So if you want him back....”  After lucifer said this Sabrina disappeared and I was stuck in a room alone with lucifer. I turn around in a circle trying to find a way out, only to realize there is no way out. “ Hello Cassandra, I thought me and you should have a little chat.” I look at him like he is crazy “ why would I want to talk to you?”  Lucifer looks at me then starts to walk around me “ you know you and Sabrina are completely different people” he says. I look at him when he makes his way back into my line of vision. “ it's not a bad thing in fact I see it as a good thing, Sabrina is going to step up and take the throne and then Caliban will challenge her of course.” Lucifer says “ Don’t tell her but out of you two your my favorite, and although I don’ t want either of you close to boys, I see the way Caliban looks at you.” I look at him not understanding where he is going with this at all “ What are you getting at?” “Sabrina will try to take the throne for herself but I want you to have the throne with Caliban by your side.” The only thing he was doing was messing with my mind “  Why would you want that? You just said you didn't like him” Lucifer looks at him and smiles “  Yes but he has some knowledge of ruling hell and I want it in one piece when I get back, plus I see the way he looks at you”  Lucifer says “ he would do anything for you and doesn't know it yet.” Lucifer looked at me his smile dropping “ Listen hear and listen well, you are much more powerful then Sabrina is. The only problem is that part of you is still a mortal it drains your body physically. So try not to use to much power. Sabrina doesn't have to worry about it because she can’ t access the amount of power you can, am I making myself clear?” 

I nodded not dully believing what he was saying. I blinked and I was back out in the throne room, before I could say anything to the three kings Sabrina looked at me and Lilith  “ no we won’t”. Sabrina took a step forward looking at the three kings “ I am Sabrina Morningstar,  and that throne is mine by blood and by birth!” Lilith looked at me then Sabina leaning into Sabrina “  Yours to give to me, you mean”  Sabrina looked at her “ No, mine to claim” The three kings started to talk but I couldn't pay attention the only thing on my mind was that lucifer was right Sabrina did step forward and took the throne while leaving me in the dust. I was so lost in thought over what to do I almost didn't hear Caliban step forward and start to talk.”  You may be able to take the throne now but what about your sister?” he said raising his arm towards me, the look on Sabrina's face was almost like she forgot that I was there. In all truth I think everyone forgot that I was there. Sabrina looked at me before saying “ only one person can rule, and I think I should be the one ruling it” she says without making eye contact with me “ Im sorry what?” I say while looking at her, Sabrina looks at me “ as much as I love you I don't think you could rule hell” That one hurt my own sister doesn't think that I could rule hell, but she thinks that she can. 

“ If she wants the crown,  she's going to have to prove herself worthy. I challenge you Sabrina” Caliban says. Sabrina and Lilith have a chat in private “ She can be challenged its true but a certain number of signatures are required”  

“ as my first act of queen this court is dismissed!” Sabrina yells. They all start to leave the room Caliban walks up to see “  I'll see you soon princess” when everyone is gone Sabrina try's to talk to me but I just turn the other way 

##########################

Even since we got back from hell I haven’t seen or talked to Sabrina. When we got back from hell I went up to my room and locked the door have been there science. I was painting a picture when all of the sudden I'm in hell with Lilith standing above me. “ I look up at her with a look that could kill “ why am I here?”i said Lilith looked at me “ the courts want you here for this meeting. why? I don’t know.” 

When I walked into the throne room I see my sister sitting on the throne and that only fuels my anger. I’ m about to go up to her to give her a piece of my mind when the throne room doors again. Caliban walks in. “I, Caliban, demon prince of Hell,  challenge the Morningstar to her seat on the throne.” The whole room goes crazy with cheers “Look upon this scroll.  I have gathered 666 signatures of the highest born of Hell  to endorse my challenge.  By infernal law of the court of Hell, it must be accepted.” Sabrina looks at Lilith asking if its true to which she says yes. Caliban continues to talk “Then I challenge you on a quest for  the Unholy Regalia.  The regalia are the three most powerful occult objects in history.  Relics that have been lost to the ages, mind you.  Legend has it, he who finds and collects the relics  may take his seat on the throne, whether they be Morningstar or not.  Do you accept my challenge, Sabrina?” Sabrina looks at him with anger “ Yes”. Caliban smiles “ One more thing, your sister seeing as you do not what her on your team, if I win she becomes my queen, therefore she plays on my team” Caliban looks at me and smiles. Sabrina stands up “ No its not going to happen!’ Caliban looked back at her “ I don’t really think that's your choice to make” he says looking at me “ it’s her choice” Caliban holds at his hand waiting for me to take it. I look at his hand then to Sabrina who is already looking at me “ you can’t be thinking about this!’ I think at Caliban's hand and start to walk toward him. Taking his hand he smiles down at me due to the height difference. Sabrina starts to yell but the only thing I can focus on is the warmth that overcomes my body when he starts to teleport us to who knows where.  

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Second Chances - Ch. 22

Turning of the Tides

Warnings: Swearing, unimaginable fluff

Word count: ~8500

Masterlist 

Read on AO3

The night after your adventure in Lagras, Dutch takes Arthur, John, Bill and Lenny out to deal with Bronte. Hosea tries desperately to change his mind, but to no avail. As the group rides out of camp, he shakes his head. 

You watch them leave, feeling worried. Bronte will surely be heavily guarded and then there’s the possibility of city cops. Grimshaw assigns you to guard duty for the afternoon. 

As you stand by the gates of Shady Belle, you listen to the forest. A horse stomps its way towards you from the direction of the house and you turn to see Molly riding a small dun horse. You can tell from her eyes she’s been crying. She and Dutch fought again when he returned last night and most of the day she drank heavily. 

“Ms. O’Shea,” you say. “What are you doing?” 

“Don’t you worry about me!” she snaps, pausing her horse. “You get to leave with Arthur whenever you want, but anyone sees me set foot out of here and everyone loses their minds!” 

“Molly, the city is dangerous right now, I really don’t think-”

“I don’t care what you think! I’m going and you can’t stop me!” She kicks her horse into a gallop and leaves. You stare after her, worried. 

Charles approaches you, prepared to take the night shift. You hand him the repeater and go into camp. Spotting Hosea and Abigail at the table, you sit down, interrupting their conversation.

“Molly’s leaving,” you state.

“We know,” Hosea says sadly. “We tried talking to her, but she don’t wanna listen to us.” 

“She just needs some time,” Abigail says. “Dutch ain’t been too kind to her lately. Everyone needs a break from this place sometimes. She’ll come back.” 

The three of you fall silent for a moment. “Y/N, I’m glad you came over,” Hosea says. “Wanted to talk to you about this bank job.” 

“I didn’t think I would be involved,” you say. 

“Well, you’re not yet. But in order to do this right, we need to create a diversion away from the bank. I figure you, Abigail and myself will do that. We’ll go in, looking like city folks. I figure we plant a dud stage and set it off with dynamite.”

Abigail chews on her lip. “We’ll have to make sure no one sees us with the dynamite.” 

“That’s easy. We’ll take the stage we stole and put dynamite inside before leaving. You two act as lookouts while I light it and we walk away before anyone figures out what we’re doing. If all goes according to plan, no one will suspect a thing and we can sneak out.” 

“I don’t know, Hosea,” you say. “Seems like a lot of our plans the past few months haven’t gone too well for us.” 

“This one will, Y/N. Just have some faith.” Hosea pats your hand and stands up. “Just think about it, hmm?”

You nod and he leaves, lighting his pipe. Abigail stirs in her seat, almost as though searching for something to say. 

“So you and Arthur are getting pretty close?” she says. 

“Yeah. He’s, well, let’s just say when I first met him, I didn’t know how much of a romantic he was.” 

She laughs. “He’s always been like that. The carin’ sort. I just wish John…” she sighs heavily. 

“He’s getting better though, isn’t he? I’ve seen him with Jack more.” 

“He is, but I still have to talk him into it. It’s like he can’t make up his mind about the boy, and yet Jack looks up to him so.” 

“He’ll come around. John may not be the brightest man here, but he knows what’s right.” 

“I suppose. Well, I better go see to that boy.” 

She gets up and walks into the house. Javier sits by the fire with Uncle, but they’re both quiet. You see Karen stumbling about on the edges of camp, a bottle swaying from her hand. Sighing, you get up and decide to head to bed, hoping you can sleep without Arthur by your side. 

By morning, all the men except for Arthur and John returns. Lenny tells you and Abigail they stayed out after Bronte was dealt with. Dutch seems irritable, but he doesn’t seem to notice the absence of Molly. You approach him as he pours himself a cup of coffee.

“Hello, Dutch,” you say. “I wanted to let you know that Molly-”

“I don’t want to hear about Ms. O’Shea right now,” he grumbles. “I cannot worry about her, I got too much goin’ on.” He stomps away towards the house, stopping near Hosea. 

Midafternoon comes and Arthur and John finally return. John bids him farewell and heads off towards the gazebo where Abigail is sitting with Jack. Arthur rubs his jaw, his stubble nearly returned to normal. He sees you and walks over.

“Hello, Y/N.” 

“Arthur. You okay? Surprised you didn’t come home last night.” 

He sighs and hides his eyes with his hat. Something is troubling him. 

“You wanna talk about it?” you ask. 

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe that would be good. Let’s go somewhere else, I don’t wanna be in this camp anymore.” 

He leads you over to the horses and you mount Rannoch, feeling worried. Arthur

doesn’t speak as you walk and you don’t pressure him. He takes you in the direction of Rhodes and you recognize the familiar path leading to Clemens Point. Stopping in the clearing, you look around at the familiar area. After dismounting, he heads towards the lake, still not speaking.

You stand next to him as he gazes out across the burning lake and take his hand. “What’s going on, honey?” you ask.

He sighs and sits down, leaning against the large tree. You do the same, your shoulders touching. 

“Well, we got to Bronte just fine. Slippery snake tried to weasel his way out, but Dutch took him to the swamp, same place that big ol’ gator tried to get us. He killed him, but in… in a bad way.” 

He explains how Dutch had drowned Bronte and then fed him to the gators. The violence of it seems to shock him. 

“I ain’t known Dutch a long time,” you say, “but that don’t seem like him.” 

“No, it ain’t. I been with him 20 years, never seen him do nothing like that. He’s killed a lot of folk, sure. Who of us hasn’t? But feedin’ a man to a damn gator, I don’t know many people who deserve that. And it was just the way he looked at Bronte. Almost like… like he wanted what Bronte had and hated him for it. I’m not makin’ any sense.” 

“No, Arthur, you are. I’m just… It just seems like ever since that trolley job, he’s changed. Been so angry. The way he talked to you the other night. I don’t know, he’s even been lookin’ at me funny, like I made him mad or somethin’.” 

“Don’t know how you could have. You should hear the way Pearson talks about ya. Almost expectin’ him to propose to you any day now.” 

“Arthur, you pig!” you laugh and smack his arm. He chuckles and pulls you into a one-armed hug. 

“Come on, let’s go to Rhodes,” he says.

“What for? You think it’s safe after Sean?” 

“Yeah I think so. Most people involved with that got killed and it’s been long enough. I was thinkin’ we could maybe play some black jack, have some fun.”

“Yeah, okay.” 

  You both head into Rhodes as the sun sets, relieved that no one seems to recognize Arthur. He stops in the store to buy a few things, and he tells you to find a new book. You see one titled “The Portrait of Dorian Gray”, and place it on the counter next to Arthur’s items. Nodding approvingly, he pays for it with his other things. 

Afterwards, he guides you down the street, offering you his arm. He keeps smirking at you, making you suspicious.

“What’s going on in that mind of yours, Mr. Morgan?”

“Nothin’. Just happy to be out here with you is all.” 

“Uh-huh,” you say, not believing a word of it. Just as you’re about to approach the front of the hotel, Arthur stops and pushes you against the wall of the building. You’re about to ask what he’s doing when his lips are on yours, his body pressed against you. 

He pulls away slowly. “Sorry, darlin’. Just… felt like I needed to do that.” 

Blushing, you giggle. “You’re funny, Arthur, but what are you doing? You can kiss me whenever you want, why now?” 

He smiles. “Like you said, I can kiss ya whenever I want.” His thumb traces your cheek gently, making your heart flutter. 

“You’re real funny, Mr. Morgan.” 

“And you’re beautiful.” He kisses you again, softer this time. He sighs and pulls away.

“Thought we were here to play black jack?” you open your eyes, your hands on his shoulders. 

“Yes we are.” He offers you his arm again and leads you up the stairs towards the black jack table. Before you have a chance to pull out your money, he lays down your bet. As the dealer begins handing out cards, you notice Arthur’s been holding your hand since the moment you sat down. Something’s going on with him, but you’re not sure what. 

You play for nearly an hour before Arthur decides he’s done for the night. He takes you to the main floor and buys dinner. Over the meal, he’s become oddly quiet. You try to pick up a conversation, but he doesn’t seem interested. Figuring he’s just tired or worried about Dutch, you suggest getting a room for the night, to which he agrees. 

He gets up and pays for a room, beckoning for you to follow him. He leads you to a room in the back with a bed no wider than the one you share in Shady Belle. Shrugging, you sit down, Arthur next to your side. He’s still quiet and he seems to be lost in his head. You extend your hand and gently grab his face, turning it to you. 

“Just you and me here now,” you say and kiss him. He sighs and kisses you back. Your hand wanders down to his shirt and you undo the first button.

“Not tonight, darlin’,” he says, grabbing your hand. You pull back and look into his face, which is hard and unreadable. 

“Is something wrong?” you ask.

“No. Just… not in the mood tonight. Ya mind if we just go to sleep? Plannin’ on an early morning.”

“Why? What’s going on tomorrow?” 

“Nothin’. I’ll explain in the mornin’. Just get some rest.” 

Something in you wants to push further, but his eyes seem sad. You nod and unlace your boots, lying down. He lies down as well and you slide into the crook of his arm. His hand rests gingerly on your shoulder, but it feels as though he’s forcing himself to tolerate your touch. 

In the morning, you wake up alone. You look around but Arthur’s nowhere to be seen. His hat’s resting on the dresser under the window. After sitting up, you grab your knees. Something about the way he was acting last night when you were alone seems strange, completely unlike him. A strange feeling settles into your stomach. 

The door opens and Arthur walks in, his hair damp. He offers you a brief and uncharacteristic good morning, which you quietly return. 

“Come on, get dressed,” he says hastily. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Huntin’ trip.” 

“Okay, but where?” 

He looks at you before answering. “West Elizabeth, I reckon.”

He quickly leaves the room, letting you get dressed in privacy. You can’t shake off the feeling that he’s irritated with you. You try thinking back, wondering what you may have done or said, but coming up with nothing. He had been so sweet when you’d come into town, but after dinner he acted like he didn’t want you around. 

You leave the room, still conflicted and meet him by the bar. He silently beckons you to follow him out to the horses. 

“Figure we can take a stage,” he says, his voice flat. 

“You sure? Why don’t we take the train? It’ll take half the time.” 

“Because I want to,” he says quickly. He doesn’t go further as he leads you to the stage, the driver napping on his seat. Arthur dismounts and raps the carriage. “Hey!” he calls out when the driver doesn’t respond. He wakes up with a small snort. 

“Huh, what?”

“You mind takin’ us to Strawberry?” Arthur says. 

The driver rubs his eyes and yawns. “Sure, get in. Gonna be a trip.” 

Arthur opens the stage door and gestures you inside, his face stony. Bowing your head, you climb in. Arthur takes the seat opposite of you, hiding his eyes beneath his hat. You clutch your hands as the stage begins moving; the driver urging the horses on. 

The next few hours pass in almost complete silence. The nasty feeling in your stomach has grown. You begin to wonder if Arthur is planning on ending your relationship.

I told you, a nasty voice says. No one could ever love you.

Leaning back, you look out the window to the passing world beyond, wishing the voice would fall silent. It doesn’t. 

He’s come to the same realization everyone eventually comes to. You’re not worth it, you’re not worthy of being loved. He’s going to break it off with you and forget this ever happened. He’s going to run back to Mary and they’ll be happy.

A tear finds its way out of the corner of your eye and you angrily wipe it away. If Arthur notices, he says nothing. You wish he would.

He doesn’t care about your pain, you stupid woman, that awful voice says again. No one has ever cared, why would he be any different? You were a fool for believing he loved you.

You suddenly wish you were alone in the stage, alone to show your weakness. Arthur still sits rigidly in the seat opposite you, his eyes hidden and his hands clasped. You lean your head against the wall near the window as more tears betray you. Why is he taking you to West Elizabeth to break up with you? Why couldn’t he have done it already? You close your eyes and will yourself to sleep as the horrible voice continues to whisper to you.

Arthur shakes you awake abruptly. “We’re here,” he says in a hollow voice. You sigh and follow him out of the stage, wishing he’d just get this over with already. You wonder, as you mount Rannoch, what you will do when you get back to camp. Should you leave? That would be the wrong choice. Just because Arthur’s breaking up with you doesn’t mean you have to lose the rest of your family. The thought of losing touch with Hosea, the other girls, even Grimshaw is too painful.

Arthur hops onto Artemis and wordlessly leads you east towards Big Valley. When the expanse of green lays ahead of you, he stops. “Figure we can hunt for a few hours,” he says. You nod, doing your best to keep your face blank. You kick Rannoch into a run without waiting for him and break out of the trees, the wind flying through your hair and the sun bathing your face. A sense of freedom comes over you as a herd of pronghorns dashes through the wildflowers. You pull Rannoch to a stop on the north end of the valley. Ahead of you, a large stag with proud antlers lifts his head from the river and runs towards the trees. The sight brings the memory of Arthur telling you about his strange dreams of stags, and the hollow feeling returns.

For the next few hours, you keep your distance from Arthur, hunting the pronghorn and even a moose to keep the horrible thoughts at bay. The sun’s beginning to set behind the giant mountain on the western border of the valley and Arthur stops Artemis near you as you finish skinning a pronghorn doe. 

“Hey, let’s go to the lake,” Arthur says, leaning on his saddle horn. You look up and he offers you a small smile, his eyes bright again. You swallow and nod, your chest still heavy with doubts. After flinging the pelt across your horse, you get up and follow him down the trail into the forest. 

“You’re real quiet,” he calls back to you, turning in his saddle to see you. 

You’ve been buried in your own head and you look up to see him staring at you. Is that worry on his face?

“Oh, yeah,” you mumble, dipping your head again. You’re convinced he doesn’t want to hear anything going on in your head anymore. 

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” he says, turning back to the trail. “I sure do like hearin’ your voice though.” 

He’s lying, the voice says. You don’t respond, patting Rannoch’s neck. 

Arthur stops on the trail, Lake Owanjilla lying ahead. The western sky has turned a brilliant pink, the ridges of the mountains burn gold. If you didn’t feel so miserable, you’d find it breathtaking. 

“Here’s a good spot,” he mutters and dismounts.

“Here we go,” you mumble quietly so he doesn’t hear you. He leads you to the edge of the lake, hanging over the water. A clear, cold stream rushes into it on your left. You stand next to Arthur, awaiting the blow. 

“Sure is a lot of beauty in this world,” he says, looking across the lake. An owl somewhere in the trees hoots. “You helped me see that.” 

“I’ve done nothing, Arthur,” you say. You stare out across the water too. 

“You’re wrong, darlin’,” he says. He turns his body to you and you look at him. He grabs your hands and smiles softly. “Ya know, the best thing I ever done was go into that sheriff’s in Blackwater, lookin’ for bounties. It lead me to you, even if my intentions were selfish. You done so much for me since I met you, I… I don’t know where I’d be without you.” 

He places a palm on your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. 

“I didn’t do anything,” you repeat, more tears leaking from your eyes.

“You taught me what love really feels like,” he says. “With Mary, there was always somethin’ I had to do to earn her love. You give it freely, and yours is so much more pure and powerful. It’s not that I didn’t love Mary when I was younger, it’s just that with you, it don’t matter no more. I love you more than anything and I… I can’t imagine a future without you.” 

“What are you saying, Arthur?” you ask. You’d been expecting him to tell you anything other than what he’s saying now. Arthur takes his hands away and reaches into his satchel and he kneels down. Your heart stops as he shows you his upturned fist. 

“I’m askin’ you if you’ll marry me, sweetheart?” he opens his hand and shows you a ring, an emerald set into the gold band. Your knees feel shaky as you begin to cry, your heart feeling as though it might burst. Arthur sighs and stands up, hiding the ring in his fist.

“Listen, darlin’, if you- if you don’t feel the same, I-.”

You cut him off. “Yes, Arthur. I will marry you.” 

His face breaks into a massive smile and he grabs your hand, gently sliding it onto your finger. You stare at it for a moment before looking up at him. His own eyes seem watery and he pulls you into a tight hug, letting you bury your face into his chest, the horrible voice finally falling silent. His scent fills your nose and you breathe in deeply.

“Thank you, darlin’,” he sniffs as he rests his cheek against your head. 

You look up and kiss him, placing your hand on his cheek. “I’ll always love you, Arthur Morgan.” 

He grips your hand and kisses the ring on your finger. “I feel like the luckiest man alive.” 

“I’m not exactly a prize, Arthur,” you joke. 

“You are to me.” 

You both watch silently as a massive eagle circles over the lake, finally dipping down to the water and plucking a fish with its talons. 

“Come on,” Arthur says, patting your back. “Let’s get a fire going.” He guides you over to a wide spot of grass and begins a fire while you set up the tent. You sit down next to him and he immediately pulls you into his lap. You smile as the big cowboy cradles your head into his neck. 

“How come you looked so miserable this mornin’, sweetheart?” he asks. 

You huff a small laugh. “Ah, you’d think it was stupid.” 

“Nah, I could never think that.”

“Well, I thought… I thought you were going to break things off this morning. You were so distant and unlike yourself.” 

“I’m sorry, darlin’. I was scared.”

“Scared?” you look up at him. “I could never see you scared. How many times you been shot at?”

“This was different, darlin’,” he kisses your forehead. “I was terrified you were gonna say no.” 

You pause, trying to think of a response. 

“Why didn’t you?” he suddenly asks. “I thought after everythin’ you been through, marriage would be the last thing you’d ever want.” 

You listen to his heartbeat for a moment. “Because I love you, Arthur. It’s not that I can’t imagine a future with you, it’s just that the possibility of that future ever happening is impossible.”

“Me too. But what I meant was why? You been married before, and we both know how awful it was. Why you willin’ to try again?”

“This is completely different from the last time, Arthur.” You turn so your back’s against his chest. He clasps his hands on your stomach. “Last time, none of it happened with my consent. He was a complete stranger to me. This time couldn’t be more different. A chance to have something normal for once.” 

“Well, I’m glad you said yes,” he kisses your temple. “I don’t know what I woulda done if you didn’t.” 

You smile and pat his hand. As night falls properly, you cook dinner and then Arthur takes you inside the tent. He makes love to you in a way he never has before. He worships your body, every flaw, every scar, every inch, and you do the same with him, leaving no part of him untouched. 

The next morning, you wake to find Arthur sitting up and writing in his journal. You smile at him through tired eyes and roll over, placing your head in his lap. He chuckles and runs his fingers through your hair. 

“Hey, darlin’.”

“Mm, Arthur.” 

You sit in silence, enjoying the warmth radiating from his body, his fingers causing your skin to erupt in goose bumps. After a while, he pats your shoulder. 

“We ought to get back to camp, sweetheart. Figure the others will wanna know.” 

“Know what?” you look up at him. 

He smiles, you see his slightly jagged tooth, which you secretly love. “Know your answer.”

You sit up, still looking at him. “The others knew you were gonna ask me?” 

“Of course. Needed some advice. To be honest, when I first knew I wanted to marry you, I thought it would be too soon. We’re in a big mess right now, Pinkertons breathin’ down our necks. However, I don’t really see things gettin’ better any time soon.”

You nod, grabbing his hand. He squeezes yours. 

“Hosea made me realize that if I felt ready to ask you, then it meant it was time.”

You smile and lean in, kissing him. His arms loop around you, holding you close and warming you against the morning’s chill. 

“I’m glad you did. Can I admit something to you?” you say.

“Of course, darlin’. I want ya to know you can tell me anythin’.”

“I believed for a long time that I was gonna be alone forever. I’d never have anyone to depend on, never have someone I could trust the way I trust you.” 

He kisses your forehead. “Well, I’m glad I could prove you wrong.”

You nuzzle into his neck, adoring the familiar scent of pine and leather that seems to emit from his skin. His hands rub your back gently and he begins to hum a tune you recognize. One of the horses snorts and you remember you can’t stay here forever, as much as you’d like to.

“Come on, cowboy,” you pat his chest. “Like you say, they’ll be wantin’ to hear.” 

The two of you pack up camp quickly after a brief breakfast and some coffee. You ask Arthur if he wants to take the stage back to Saint Denis or Rhodes, but he says he wants to just ride back on the horses. 

“That’ll take almost the whole day,” you say.

“I know, but it gives me the chance to be alone with you a little longer.” 

You can’t help but smile, riding side by side with him. You adore the soft core he hides beneath his tough exterior. 

It’s late afternoon by the time you see the trees surrounding the path that leads to Shady Belle. You pat Rannoch, he and Artemis are heavily laden with game and pelts that you’ve hunted on your way down. 

“Who’s there?” Javier calls. 

“Just us,” Arthur replies. He hitches up and you do the same. Just as you’re about to grab the pelts from Rannoch, three figures walk towards you. Dutch, Hosea, and Grimshaw march your way, looking as though they’ve just shared a joke. 

“Well?” Dutch raises his arms expectantly. Arthur steps beside you, staring at them. 

“Are we to call you Mrs. Morgan now?” Hosea asks, a proud smile stretched across his face. 

You blush and grab Arthur’s hand. “Well, I suppose. We’re not married yet though.” 

Grimshaw puts her hands on her hips and marches over to you. Expecting her to start yelling for disappearing again, you await her blow. Instead, she quickly grabs your left hand.

“I wanna make sure this man’s done right by you,” she says, inspecting the ring on your finger. She seems to approve and releases your hand, smiling. “You done good, Mr. Morgan.” 

“Thank you, Miss Grimshaw.” 

Dutch chuckles deeply and turns back to camp.

“Everyone. Everyone!” he hollers. Several of the gang come up to hear what he has to say. Arthur hooks your hand around his arm. You feel nervous, never having accepted compliments well. 

“Tonight is a night for celebration! Arthur and Y/N are going to be married!”

Mary-Beth and Tilly clap, laughing loudly, Karen hollers out excitedly. Several of the men announce their congratulations, coming up to clap you and Arthur on the back. It makes you blush.

“Well, let’s celebrate properly then!” Uncle says, going to sit down by the fire. “Javier! Come play us somethin’!”

Despite being on guard duty, Javier complies. He sits down by the fire, his guitar in hand. “I know just the one to play tonight.” 

Lenny and Mary-Beth grab you and Arthur, guiding you to the big log directly in front of the fire. You sit down, your hand still looped around Arthur’s arm as Javier tests a few strings. He finally clears his throat and begins playing. You recognize the first notes of the song you had sung for the gang back in Clemens Point, The Sweetheart Tree. It makes you smile wider as Arthur rocks gently back and forth. 

When the song’s over, Jack runs over with strings of flowers in his hand. “I made these for you and Uncle Arthur!” he says, holding up the flower necklaces. Arthur chuckles and takes them, thanking him and putting one over himself and the other around your neck. Jack smiles proudly. “So she’s gonna be my aunt?” 

“That’s right, kid,” Arthur says as he drapes an arm around your shoulder. Jack gives a small “yippee” and skips off. Arthur kisses your temple and gets up, heading off to Pearson’s wagon where several boxes of alcohol have been laid out. He’s immediately swarmed by Lenny, John, Bill and Karen. Hosea sits down close to you as Javier finishes his song. Grimshaw takes a seat, along with Mary-Beth. 

“I’m real proud of you,” Hosea says, lighting his pipe. “Must have taken a lot of courage to say yes, after your last marriage.” 

You smile and look into the fire. “It didn’t, actually. I wasn’t scared when he asked me. Surprised, but not scared.” 

“Ah, you two were meant to be,” Mary-Beth says breathily. 

“It’ll be good for him,” Grimshaw says. “Hopefully you can help him settle down a little. Give him something to keep him centered.”

“Oh, I doubt even I’ll be able to tame him,” you chortle. “Always been a man of the wild.” 

Javier and Uncle pick up a song together and several of the others come over to join in. Hosea looks at you with a clever gleam in his eye. 

“You ready for tomorrow?” he asks.

“What’s tomorrow?”

“The big bank job in town.”

“That’s tomorrow?” you say, a little louder than you had meant. 

“Ah, must have forgotten to tell you. Sorry about that. Anyways, you, me and Abigail will take the stage coach ahead of the others and plant it a few blocks from the bank. You’ll need to wear something nice, make you look like an upper class lady.” 

“Okay,” you say. You’ll have to ask one of the other girls if you can borrow something, not having any dresses aside from the one you wore to that awful party at the mayor’s mansion. 

Dutch walks over, attracted by the mention of the bank job. “Now Hosea, before you get too excited about this, we need to smooth out the plan. Got a few wrinkles in it that are worryin’ me.” 

“We will tomorrow, Dutch. Let us enjoy this night. Like you said, we’re celebratin’.” 

As Javier begins playing a new tune, you look fondly over at Hosea. You call his attention.

“I know it might not be for a while,” you say as he looks at you. “But you’re the closest thing I’ve had to a proper father. Would… would you walk me down the aisle when Arthur and I get married?”

He smiles widely. “It would be my honor, Y/N.” 

You grin at him, thanking him. 

The party lasts for several hours. You and Arthur are forced to tell the story of how he asked multiple times. Some of the members, mainly Karen, Bill and Pearson drink themselves to the point of passing out. Arthur brings you a bottle of Caribbean rum, which you’ve never tried before. After half a bottle, you feel it getting to your head. You and Tilly both drunkenly try to play Domino with poor results. Lenny stands by the table, laughing as you drop a tile and try unsuccessfully to pick it up. Arthur stumbles over and screams, “Leeennaaaaaaayyyyy!” 

“Oh God, Arthur!” Lenny hollers back. “Not again!” 

Arthur guffaws as he stands next to you, taking a long drink from the bottle in his hand. You give up on the tile and stand up, draping your arms over his shoulders. 

“Think…” you hiccup. “Think it’s time for bed, Mr. Morgan. I ain’t seen straight for an hour.” 

“Okay, Mrs. Morgan,” he slurs, bending down to kiss you. You grab his hand and lead him towards the house, bidding the others good night. The walk seems much harder than usual as you and Arthur stumble over one another. When you’re finally in the house, he starts grabbing you, making you laugh.

“Room first,” you mumble. By the time you get upstairs and into your room, he practically rips your clothes off. You don’t even make it to the bed as Arthur lays you down, kissing every inch of skin he can reach. You rip his shirt open, glad to find he neglected to put on his union suit this morning as you run your fingers through his chest hair. He growls and nips your shoulder. As you reach down to remove his gun belt, you hear him mumble. 

“I love you, Y/N Morgan. Lord knows how much I love you.” 

You wake up with a terrible hangover. Arthur groans next to you on the floor, rubbing his head. 

“God, I wanna die,” he mumbles.

“Me too. Why’d we drink so much?” you say. You’re about to roll over to kiss him when he shoots up, drapes a blanket around his hips and runs out on the balcony. You hear him retching so you heave yourself to your feet, dressing. Arthur comes back in, wiping his mouth clean, and begins to dress as well. 

“Come on, cowboy,” you grab his hand. “Let’s try clearing our heads.” 

You both stumble down the stairs, still holding hands. You wince as the morning sun hits your eyes. Arthur leads you over to the fire and pours you a coffee. The hot drink seems to do little to clear the headache and your stomach clenches painfully. You throw out your coffee and dash to the river just in time to vomit what’s left of the alcohol in your system. 

Arthur walks up behind you, finishing his drink. When you stand up straight, he pulls you into his arms. 

“I gotta go speak with Dutch and Hosea, figure out this bank job,” he says. You nod into his chest, your head still pounding. He guides you back over to Pearson’s wagon, grabbing you a canteen of water. You greedily drink as much as you can, then he does the same. 

As Arthur heads to the house where Dutch and Hosea are talking, you head over to the crates where the other girls sit. You feel a little better as you sit down, picking up some sewing. 

“So you two gonna get married quickly or you gonna be engaged a while?” Karen asks, her eyes bloodshot. She looks worse than you feel. 

“I don’t know. We ain’t talked about it yet.”

“What about kids?” Tilly asks. “You gonna try havin’ ‘em as soon as you’re married or wait?” 

This question causes you to pause. Arthur’s the only one who knows you’re barren. You’re not in the mood to disclose that to the others just yet.

“We’re probably gonna wait. Who knows what our situation might be like for the next little while? Ain’t the best idea to have kids until we know it’s a good time.” 

“Well, be prepared for a lot of hard work,” Abigail says as she walks over with her coffee. “Much as I love my boy, it’s a thankless job.” 

“Ain’t that sort of the point?” you ask. “I mean, why’s a kid gotta be grateful to his parents just for bein’ born? Ain’t like they asked for it.” 

“Still,” she says. “You’d think after all I done for him, he’d at least be grateful.” 

“Kids ain’t supposed to be grateful,” you say, returning to your sewing. “And they don’t see the world that way. I’m not sayin’ you should spoil the boy or make his life difficult, but it ain’t fair of you to expect so much from him, as much as you’d like him to.” 

“You ain’t got kids,” Abigail finishes her coffee. “You don’t understand.” She walks away, muttering something beneath her breath. 

The next few hours, you do chores around camp and your head clears. Hosea approaches you and Abigail in the middle of the day, suggesting you get ready. She heads off without a word; you ask one of the girls if you can borrow a dress. Arthur comes into the room just as you’re changing.

“You ready for this, darlin’?” he asks. 

“Guess as much as I’ll ever be. Does Dutch know what he wants to do after this?”

“I dunno, he keeps talking about goin’ to Tahiti or Australia. I honestly don’t know the appeal of either one of ‘em, but I guess the Pinkertons won’t find us there.” 

“What about heading back west like he talked about?” 

Sighing, he sits down. “I don’t think that’s happenin’, darlin’. Wherever the train goes, the Pinkertons can get us.” 

He begins changing into a suit you’ve never seen before. He tucks a blue puff tie into his patterned blue vest. 

“Where’d you get that, Arthur? The suit?” 

“Oh, Trelawney made me buy it for that river boat job. Do I look okay?” He fidgets with the buttons of his coat sleeve. You walk up and adjust his tie, smiling.

“You look very handsome. Not at all like some country man.” 

“Well, I hope not. Now you know what to do?”

You swallow and nod. “Yes, once we set off the dynamite, Hosea’s gonna take us to the north end of Saint Denis, we’ll grab a wagon and meet you all back here.” 

“Hopefully, much richer than we are now,” he smiles, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “You be careful out there, darlin’. Don’t want you gettin’ hurt.” 

“Nothing’s gonna happen to me. But promise me you’ll be careful? You’re guaranteed to be getting shot at.” 

“Awe, I’ll be fine. Maybe we’ll get lucky and Micah will get shot.”

You giggle and push him out the door. “Don’t get my hopes up.” 

As you walk outside, Dutch calls to Arthur. “You got everything?”

“Think so,” he says, straightening his sleeve. 

“So,” Hosea says as he climbs onto the stage. You and Abigail get into the back. “We rob ourselves a bank and within six weeks, we’re living life anew a tropical idyll spending the last of our days as banana farmers?” 

“Exactly,” Dutch says from the back of the Count. Arthur, John, Micah, Lenny and Javier mount their horses as Bill and Charles sit on one of the wagons.

“Let’s get out of this godforsaken place and go rob ourselves a bank!” Hosea yells out. The others holler and agree, Micah forces his horse to rear up. You suddenly get a flashback of Bison Point when Dutch and so many of the others had left in much the same manner to rob the ferry. A bad feeling settles into your stomach. 

Hosea whips the horses and the stage charges out to the front of the line, causing you and Abigail to sway inside.

“This is it, gentlemen!” Dutch calls out behind the stage. “The very last one!” 

“Where have we heard that one before?” John responds. 

“What has happened to you, John? You lost all your heart.” 

“I’m just trying to stay real about this.” 

“‘Real’. How I detest that word,” Dutch says. “So devoid of imagination!”

“How soon we shippin’ out?” Micah asks. 

Dutch begins talking about how he has a plan to get a boat organized and go down to South America.

“What about the money in Blackwater?” Micah demands. 

“Forget that, it’s gone!” Dutch hollers. “You all talk like it’s the only goddamn money in the world. We’re gonna take it from the people who take it from us. This is a big city bank!” 

“Right,” John shoots back. “With guards, security, police.”

“Hosea has done his reconnaissance, we’ve been over this.” He goes over the plan again, sounding frustrated yet determined. By the time he’s done, the stage is passing Calliga Hall.

“Hosea!” Dutch calls. “You know the drill. Any problems, meet us back in camp!” 

Hosea whips the horses on, the stage speeds up and drives into the city. Hosea guides it carefully down the cobbled streets, navigating around other wagons and riders. He stops it on a narrow street a few blocks from the bank. You and Abigail get out as he climbs down.

“Alright, ladies,” he says quietly, clapping his hands. “Each of you stand on one end of the stage, keep an eye out while I light her up.” 

You walk with him towards the back of the stage and stand on the sidewalk, looking around for potential witnesses. Hosea reaches into the back lockbox and pulls out a tied bundle of dynamite. He quickly places it inside the stage.

“Hold on,” you say, spotting a man and woman walking across the street at the end of it. Hosea pauses and watches them. Luckily, they take no notice of your party and walk on, disappearing around the building. “Okay, clear.” 

“We’re good on this end, Hosea,” Abigail says. 

“Alright, act quickly, ladies. Once I light this thing, we only have a few seconds to get down that alley and be gone.” He gestures to the alley between the two buildings the stage sits in front of.

“We’re ready, Hosea,” you say. 

He lights a match and touches it to the wick, which begins sparking.

“Now!” Hosea whispers. You and Abigail hastily follow him down the alley, trying to get away from the stage as quickly as possible without looking suspicious. As you reach the center of it, the stage explodes, the rubble clattering around the street. It’s immediately followed by screams, yells, horses neighing, a whistle blows. 

“Ladies, I think we’re done here,” Hosea says. He ushers you both down the alley in front of him, heading down towards the other street. You’re hoping the others are having as much luck as you when someone painfully grabs your arm. You’re suddenly slammed into the brick wall and Agent Milton, the Pinkerton, points the barrel of his pistol inches from your face. You hear Abigail get pushed into the wall and look over to see Ross pinning her. Several other Pinkerton agents and policemen stand behind him.

Hosea lifts his hands, shocked, and is about to speak when Milton interrupts him. “Mr. Matthews! We received word you and your gang of delinquents would be here, but we doubted you’d really be so foolish to rob the bank. Looks like our informant was right.” 

“Mr. Milton,” Hosea says, his eyes sparkling cleverly. “We have no business here other than to enjoy the day in this lovely city.” 

“And the fact that you just left the street where a wagon exploded is nothing more than a mere coincidence? I doubt that.” 

Hosea takes a step towards him. “Mr. Milton, we’ve no quarrel with you. We are on the verge of leaving, we’ll never be your problem again after today.” 

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that, Mr. Matthews! I’ve given you all how many chances to go and live as better men, but you’ve done nothing but laugh in my face.” 

Milton pushes his hand against your throat, pulling the hammer of his pistol down. You grab his hand on your throat, Arthur’s ring glinting on your finger as Milton’s finger twitches on the trigger.

“Wait!” Hosea says, stepping close to him. “Take me, not her. Give her and the other girl a five minute head start, I’ll go with you quietly.” 

“Hosea, no!” you choke.

“Quiet, Y/N!” he says, not breaking eye contact with Milton. 

“You’ll show me where the others are?” Milton demands. “No lies?” 

“No lies. Just promise me you’ll let these two have a chance.” 

Milton hesitates. His finger brushes against the trigger, his hand on your throat tightens painfully. Finally, he lifts the hammer and points the gun at Hosea.

“You heard the man, Ross. Let the girl go.” 

Hosea sighs heavily and keeps his hands up as Milton approaches him. He grabs him by the collar and points the barrel at his head, standing behind him. Milton glares at you.

“We had a deal, Ms. Y/L/N. You have five minutes, don’t think I won’t try to find you.” 

“Hosea, no!” you scream as Abigail grabs your hand and yanks you away. You try fighting her off.

“Get out of here, Y/N!” Hosea calls. “You have a wedding to attend!” 

“No!” 

Abigail wrenches your arm painfully as she pulls you down the street. “He’ll be fine, Y/N,” she hollers back at you, sounding hysterical. “Hosea always finds a way out.” 

You run with her, trying to keep the tears at bay. You look back and find the Pinkertons gone, along with Hosea, although a few policemen mill about, screaming at one another. 

Abigail leads you over a few blocks. You don’t pay attention to where she’s taking you, all you know is you’re farther from the bank than before. Just as you hope that Arthur and the others will be okay, you hear a faint gunshot. The sound brings you to a halt and you turn in its direction, a horrible feeling in your gut. The air is suddenly filled with the cracks of guns from the distance, echoing off the buildings. The city has turned to chaos.

You’re just about to charge into the street in the direction of the fight when Abigail grabs your shoulders, pulling you back. A wagon with a policeman standing behind a gatling gun roars past you, the wheel nearly catching your dress. 

“We need to get out of here!” Abigail yells as policemen and Pinkertons flood the streets. One of the Pinkertons points to the pair of you, whipping his gun out. Your five minutes are up. Abigail yelps and grabs your hand, dashing off down a thin alley just as the Pinkerton shoots his gun at you, the bullet plunges into the brick wall of a building. The alley winds and leads into a small plaza, a broken fountain sitting in the middle. You see not too far beyond the next street, which is swarming with more policemen as the gunshots continue to ring out. 

“I don’t think we can get out!” you scream at Abigail over the blasts. “We should hide! One of the buildings.” 

Without thinking, you dash over to a door facing the plaza, kicking it open. An elderly black woman screams, falling backwards onto her kitchen floor. Abigail slams the door shut after you, slightly dulling the ringing of gunfire. The woman doesn’t move and you bend down, trying to wake her, thinking she fainted. She doesn’t respond and you feel her throat, finding no pulse. She must have suffered a heart attack. 

You and Abigail quickly inspect the house, finding too many windows for your comfort at the front of it. The back where the old lady died only has one window, a narrow staircase leads to the upper floor. 

“Should we go up there?” you whisper. The gunfire still echoes through the city outside.

“No, we might get trapped,” Abigail says. “Let’s just stay here in the kitchen, it’s blocked from the front of the house.” 

“Help me move her then,” you say, gesturing to the old woman. You both pick her up and lay her on a couch in the front room. She looks as though she could be napping. Heading back into the kitchen, you both sit on the floor and away from the single window, praying no one will find you.

Several hours have passed, the gun shots have finally stopped. The city lies dark and unusually quiet except for the splashing of the torrential downpour. You would have left the city by now, except constant patrols of Pinkertons and policemen roam the streets. You and Abigail have been checking the front windows overlooking the street every half hour or so, finding no citizens or anyone else. The city must be on lockdown, meaning the others must be in it still. You pray for the thousandth time that everyone’s alright and you’ll see them in a day or two back at Shady Belle.

While waiting, you and Abigail raided the old woman’s closets to find new clothes. You slip on a pair of trousers that look as though they belonged to a teenage boy.

Abigail comes back from checking the front. “Think this is as quiet as it’s gonna get tonight, let’s try sneakin’ out now.” 

You sigh and nod. “Sure, this rain should help cover us.” 

You sit up, shaking your leg, which has fallen asleep. Once it’s steady, you open the back door leading to the small plaza with the broken fountain. You sneak out, hunching slightly and letting the rain soak you. The plaza’s clear. Just as you’re about to make a break for the other side, something big slams into you. Abigail covers your mouth just as you scream. You both look over and see a familiar face. 

“Charles!” you hiss. “What happened?!” 

“I’ll explain later,” he mutters. “We need to get out of here. Follow me.” Without another word, he guides you out of the alley and onto the street. He checks constantly as he runs slowly down the street. Through the rain, the form of a wagon appears, two horses patiently hitched to it. You see the words “Saint Denis Police” painted on the side. You point it out to Charles and the three of you run towards it.

Charles opens the door and looks inside, finding nothing but a police man’s hat and coat in it. He’s about to put them on when you slap his shoulder.

“Let me drive us out of here. You’re too recognizable.” 

Charles nods and you put on the coat, tucking your hair in underneath the hat. He and Abigail get into the carriage, slamming the door shut. Climbing up, you pray this will work. You click and flick the reins, trotting the horses on. Looking down at your feet, you spot a rifle. You hope you won’t have to use it as you navigate your way down the street. 

You spot several policemen and a few groups of Pinkertons wandering the streets, yelling to one another over the rain. One officer beckons to you.

“You find anything?” he hollers.

Putting on your best masculine voice, you respond. “Nothing!” 

He nods and continues on his way. You drive onto the large street near the train tracks, passing another police carriage. You sigh heavily as you drive down the bridge, heading away from the city. Once you’re off the bridge, you bring the carriage to a stop and hop down, ripping off the coat and hat. Charles and Abigail get out and you all decide it’s best to travel on foot back to camp.

For the next hour, Charles leads you through the swamp. He doesn’t say a word about the events that transpired, nor do you and Abigail ask. The rain begins to let up just as Shady Belle comes into view. 

“Charles!” Karen yells, holding the repeater as she keeps guard. “What the hell happened?” 

Charles beckons her to follow as you and Abigail go into camp. Grimshaw, Sadie and the others come into the middle of camp, greeting him expectantly. 

“Mr. Smith,” Grimshaw demands. “What has happened? We were expecting you all back hours ago! Where are the others?”

Charles shakes his head sadly. He looks around. Everyone’s staring at him, worried expressions on their faces. 

“Hosea and Lenny are dead. The others found their way onto a boat. I… I don’t know if they’ll be coming back.”

[manaquisition]

In Hushed Whispers: Briefing and talk with Alexius

Cullen: We don't have the manpower to take the castle. Either we find another way in, or we give up this nonsense and go and get the templars. Cassandra: Redcliffe is in the hands of a magister. This cannot be allowed to stand. Josie: The letter from Alexius asked for the Herald of Andraste by name. It's an obvious trap.

We need to stop arguing [2] How nice of him: Isn't that kind of him. What does Alexius say about me? Alexius made his move

- [2] Leliana: He's so complimentary that we are certain he wants to kill you. Josie: Not this again. Cullen: Redcliffe Castle is one of the most defensible fortresses in Ferelden. It has repelled thousands of assaults. If you go in there, you'll die and we'll lose the only means we have of closing these rifts. I won't allow it. Leliana: And if we don't even try to meet Alexius, we lose the mages and leave a hostile foreign power on our doorstep. Josie: Even if we could assault the keep, it would be for naught. An Orlesian Inquisition's army marching into Ferelden would provoke a war. Our hands are tied! Cassandra: The Magister-... Cullen: Has. Outplayed us.

There must be a way: We can't just give up. There has to be something we can do. I don't think it's over Let's get the templars

Cassandra: We cannot accept defeat now. There must be a solution.

[1] Contact the Arl: Where is the arl of Redcliffe? I'm sure he'd help us get his castle back. This isn't worth the trouble We need another way inside

[1] - Josie: After he was displaced, Arl Teagan rode straight for Denerim to petition the crown for help. I doubt he'll want our assistance once the Ferelden army lays siege to his castle. Leliana: Wait. There is a secret passage into the castle. An escape route, for the family. It's too narrow for our troops, but we could send agents through. Cullen: Too risky. Those agents will be discovered well before they reach the magister. Leliana: That's why we need a distraction. Perhaps the envoy Alexius wants so badly. Cullen: Focus their attention on [PC] while we take out the Tevinters. It's risky, but it could work.

Dorian opens the door rather forcefully and marches into the room as if he owned it. Scout Jim is trying to catch up with him. Dorian: Fortunately, you have help. Jim: This man says he has information about the magister and his methods, Commander. Dorian walks up to the Inquisitor's right and looks around the war table. Dorian: Your spies will never get past Alexius's magic without my help, so if you're going after him, I'm coming along. Jim stands in the open door like he wasn't sure how it worked. Cullen (to the Herald): The plan puts you in the most danger. We can't in good conscience order you to do this. We can still go after the templars, if you'd rather not play the bait. It's up to you.

- The scene fades to black and shows the 'confirm operation' dialogue with Leliana giving the UI the side eye -

[Note: Choosing the mages will make it impossible to work with the templars] Redcliffe Castle and the mages who could close the breach are under the control of Magister Gereon Alexius, a Venatori cultist with an unhealthy interest in [PC] and the power to reorder time itself. He has 'kindly' invited [PC] to the castle - alone - to negotiate. It's an obvious trap, but Leliana and her agents can infiltrate the castle and remove the Venatori threat while Alexius's attention is diverted. A dangerous game, but it's our best chance.

The herald and her party members except Dorian walk away from a wooden double gate (around 4x3m) with two regular-sized doors. For some reason the gate is adorned by a huge Inquisition symbol, the door opens right through the symbol's centre on the blood channel of the sword. Two member of the Venatori await them, they're wearing the same outfit as Alexius earlier, just that their hoods are white and the armoured parts are copper. On top of their faces they're wearing black masks with some sort of antlers or perhaps plumbing. There is low-key ominous background music.

Herald: Announce us.

A blonde human (blue eyes, dark eyebrows, clean-shaven, young-ish) in a blue tunic and green breeches walks forward. "The Magister's invitation was for [Mistress] [Herald] alone. The rest will wait here."

1. Then I'll stay here 2. They're negotiators 3. They go where I go - "Where I go, they go"

- 3 - the man looks at the Herald, who hints a shrug and doesn't move an inch. Then he nods his head, bows lightly after that. The party of 3 follows him, a third Venatori falls in behind them from next to the door and the two with the masks following after.

The herald walks over a green carpet and ascends a set of flat steps towards a throne under a dais leading to a balcony that is flanked by two elephant statues. Fiona is standing on foot of the stairs to the right, Alexius is on the throne, and Felix is standing to his right on the left side of the arc to his father's right hand. The blonde civilian keeps himself to the far right of the carpet. The Venatori guards distribute themselves among the pillars to the side of the room.

Servant: My Lord Magister, the agents of the Inquisition have arrived. Alexius, whose right foot is resting over his left knee, gets up, the chair creaks. Alexius: My friend! It's so good to see you again! <He walks forwards until he stands on top of the first flight of stairs> And your... associates, of course. I'm sure we can work out some arrangement that is equitable to all parties.

Fiona steps forward: Are we mages to have no voice in deciding our fate? Alexius: Fiona, you would not have turned your followers over to my care if you would not trust me... with their lives.

1) Perhaps we should include her: If the Grand Enchanter wants to be a part of these talks, then I welcome her as a guest of the Inquisition. Fiona: Thank you! <she sounds a little surprised> 2) Because you simply ooze trust 3) Let's get to business

Alexius turns around and faces his throne, takes a few seconds to demonstratively seat himself again. Felix looks towards him and seems uncomfortable Alexius: The Inquisition needs mages to close the Breach and _I_ have them, so. What shall you offer in exchange?

1. We have connections: The Inquisition has many backers among the Orlesian nobility. I'm sure we can find suitable compensation. Alexius: I'm not sure what the 'Orlesian nobility' have to offer that I don't already possess. 3. Tell me about the Venatori 4. Nothing 5. I know you want me dead 6. Let's talk about time magic.

Felix: She knows everything, father. Alexius: Felix, what have you done? (in a tone as if he had told him the police might come calling)

1) He's concerned about you: Your son is concerned that you're involved in something terrible. Alexius: So speaks the thief. Do you think you can turn my son against me? (he sounds a bit paranoid) You walk into my stronghold with your stolen mark, a gift you don't even understand, and think you're in control? (the pitch of his voice is different, he seemed pretty reasonable in the Redcliffe tavern, but went full super villain while no one was looking)

2) Your trap has already failed 3) Why are you really here?

The Herald takes a step towards the throne, Alexius takes a step towards the herald, background music is still ominous, Felix keeps looking at his father but has changed from uncomfortable to unhappy

Alexius: You're nothing but a mistake.

1) Who killed the Divine? 3) What was supposed to happen? 6) What is the mark? - If you know so much, enlighten me. Tell me what this mark on my hand is for. Alexius: It belongs to your betters. You wouldn't even begin to understand its purpose.

Felix steps forward. Felix: Father, listen to yourself! Do you know what you sound like? Alexius half turns to look at Felix while Dorian appears from next to a pillar from the side. Dorian: He sounds exactly like the sort of villainous cliché everyone expects us to be. Alexius: Dorian (he does not sound surprised, more tired or annoyed) I gave you a chance to be a part of this. You turned me down. The Elder One has power you would not believe. He will raise the Imperium from its own ashes.

1) Who is the Elder One? - That's who you serve? The one who killed the Divine? Is he a mage? Alexius: Soon, he will become a god. He will make the world bow to mages once more, we will rule from boric oceans to the frozen seas. 3) You're a fanatic 6) What kind of power?

Fiona: You can't involve my people in this! Dorian: Alexius, this is exactly what you and I talked about never wanting to happen! Why would you support this? Alexius stands in front of his throne and looks down Felix: Stop it, father! Give up the Venatori! Let the southern mages fight the Breach and let's go home. Alexius: No. It's the only way, Felix. (He reaches out for his son's arms, upping intensity rather than volume) He can save you. Felix: Save me! Alexius turns away from Felix and towards the throne Alexius: There _is_ a way. The Elder One promised, if I undo the mistake of the temple... Felix: I'm going to die. You need to accept that. Alexius gestures with his left. Alexius: Seize them, Venatori. The Elder One demands this [woman/man]'s life.

Stabbing noises, behind every column a Venatori is being assassinated by an Inquisition scout, 5 in total. Alexius backs off a little, looking agitated. Herald: Your men are dead, Alexius. The music changes to something rather more dramatic Alexius: You... are a mistake. You would never have lived. He raises his right palm and conjures up a green cube on a chain. Dorian counters with something green and formless that looks almost like a rift. Dorian: No! He throws his pell at Alexius, whose hand turns into green crystal. Alexius is thrown off-balance and his spell goes off premature. It's a greenish ripple effect that spreads out, then the scene fades to black.

[katedoesfics]

Shadows of the Future | Chapter 70

Rusl bit his lip as he checked his phone for the umpteenth time over the last couple of days. Dorian had been radio silent. No angry call, no threatening text. He knew Dorian was aware of his escape; there was no one else who would have been able to get them out of the Yiga ambush in the desert. But he thought he would have gotten something from Dorian.

It seemed, instead, Dorian chose to keep his anger contained, ignoring Rusl completely. Rusl couldn’t help but to feel disappointed. He debated calling to check in, but decided against it, slipping the phone in his pocket. He leaned against the paddock fencing, watching the horses graze.

The world was quiet, though he knew it would not last. Link and Zelda had their own plans to go after the Yiga Clan, and while Rusl didn’t want them to be involved, he knew the Champions were the best ones for the task. He desperately wanted to do more, but the truth was, there was little he could do. For years he had done everything he could to make the war easier on his son. Now, all he could do was let the pieces fall where they may.

He looked over as Link and Aryll approached, and Aryll perched herself on the fence beside him and grinned.

“So, that’s where Link gets it from,” she said. “You’re a sucker for little fuzzy animals.”

“No,” Rusl started. “Just the ones that could kill you with a single kick.”

“You know.” Aryll straightened proudly. “I could teach ya how to ride. I’m the best. Way better than Link. I win every time we race.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rusl raised a brow at his daughter. “I’d like to see that.”

Aryll hopped down from the fence and made her way over to her favorite horse. She climbed onto the horse’s back and kicked him forward. “Let’s do it!”

Link crossed his arms. “Get down,” he hissed. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Well, you know what?” she said. “You can’t tell me what to do anymore.”

Link sneered at her. “Yes I can. You’re not going out, and that’s final.”

“Hey, fuck you,” she barked. “You’re not my father.”

Link turned a helpless gaze to Rusl and he laughed.

“No, no, you’re doing great,” he said. “You really have the Dad thing down pat.”

“Fuck you,” Link muttered.

Rusl hopped the fence. He patted the horse’s neck, then climbed easily onto it’s back.

“What are you doing?” Aryll asked. “You need a saddle. You don’t even know how to ride.”

Rusl grabbed mane and pressed his heels into the horse’s side. The horse moved forward, and Rusl directed him around in a circle. “Ah, I think I’ll be fine.”

Aryll narrowed her gaze on him. “You can ride?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Rusl leaned over to open the gate, but Link stepped out in front of him.

“Will you quit it?” he hissed.

“Stop being such a party pooper,” Rusl said with a grin. He kicked his horse on and Link had no choice but to step out of the way. As soon as they cleared the gate, Rusl kicked his horse again, and they broke into a gallop with Aryll following close behind.

It had been decades since Rusl last sat on a horse, but he had no problem keeping his balance on the mighty steed as the gelding raced forward, his neck outstretched. The pounding of hooves on dirt and the wind in his face brought back memories he had long forgotten about. But he couldn’t enjoy the memories for long as Aryll quickly caught up to him.

When they reached the tree line, they slowed slightly, and just as Link caught up to them, Aryll pushed ahead. She veered off the path, taking another path around to jump over fallen trees. Rusl followed close behind, and he and his horse easily cleared the logs behind Aryll.

Back on the main path, Rusl caught up to his daughter once more, and the horses galloped neck and neck until they broke out of the tree line and across the meadow. They didn’t stop until they reached the top of the hill, turning the horses as they waited for Link to catch up.

“Wow,” Rusl said aa Link finally reached them. “You weren’t kidding. He does suck.”

Aryll crossed her arms. “Yeah, but not that much,” she said. “He was holding back.”

“So, what’s your excuse?” he said, turning to his daughter.

“Me? My excuse?” She scoffed. “What’s your excuse? How the hell do you know how to ride like that?”

“I grew up on a farm,” Rusl said simply.

“Since when?” Link asked, narrowing his gaze on his father.

“Oh, I dunno,” he started. “Since I was around ten I guess.”

“Your parents had a farm?” Aryll asked eagerly.

“Hell, no,” Rusl said. “My parents were trash. They went to jail when I was eight and I was bounced around in foster homes.”

Aryll frowned. “Really?”

“I was a terrible child,” he continued with a grin. “I stole and crashed a car when I was nine. Among other things.”

“I guess that’s where you get it from,” Link muttered to his sister, but Aryll was not amused.

“I wasn’t the one driving!”

Rusl narrowed his gaze on her. “You crashed a car?”

“N-no,” she stammered. “Cremia did.”

“Because you were all drunk,” Link said.

“You what?” Rusl sneered.

“Hey, shut up, you weren’t there!” She quickly tried to turn the subject back to him. “I’m way more innocent than you were.”

“I would hope so,” Rusl muttered. “That’s how I ended up on the farm. No one wanted me around.” He smiled. “But there was this woman who apparently loved to take on all the trouble kids and put ‘em to work. Her name was Telma. And she didn’t take shit from anyone.”

“I don’t believe it,” she said.

“Not everyone had a perfect childhood like you did,” Rusl pointed out.

“Perfect is a stretch,” Aryll said. “I’m pretty sure the government would have taken me away if they knew I lived on peanut butter and banana sandwiches and pizza.”

“But did you die?”

Aryll smiled. “So, Telma. How come we’ve never met her?”

“She died when I was twenty,” Rusl said.

“Oh.” Aryll hesitated. “So, you were a troubled foster child who lived on a farm with Telma and learned to ride horses.”

“Yup.”

“And then what?”

Rusl sighed. “And then what?”

“Clearly we know nothing about you,” she pointed out. “And I know even less about Mom. I want details.”

Rusl paused to think. “There isn’t anything else to tell,” he said. “I joined the service when I turned eighteen. I met your mother when I was twenty-two. For some reason, she agreed to marry me, and we had two pain in the ass children together.” He grinned. “The end.”

“Wow,” Aryll muttered. “Some life story.”

“It wasn’t that exciting.”

“That can’t be true,” Aryll said. “Something exciting must have happened. Like a top secret mission when you were in the army!”

Rusl hesitated. “There were a few times the Yiga Clan ambushed us,” he said simply. “When we were in Faron.”

“What was in Faron?” Aryll pressed. “A secret Yiga Clan base?”

“No,” Rusl said. “But we lived there for a while. And after Link was born.”

“You did?” Aryll frowned. “Why did you leave?”

“Because the Yiga were after Link,” he said. “Impa promised us she could protect us in the city, so that’s where we went.”

Aryll considered this for a moment. “The Yiga Clan attacked you guys?”

“Yup.”

“But you made it to the city?”

“More or less.”

She narrowed her gaze on him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your mother made it with Link,” he said.

She narrowed her gaze on him. “What about you?”

“We had a convoy across the kingdom,” he said. “They were with one of the Sheikah and I tailed behind. There were quite a few of us to throw the Yiga off in case they were following us. But they found your mother and Link and tried to drive them off a bridge.”

Aryll’s eyes widened. “No way. You’re full of shit.”

Rusl narrowed his gaze on his daughter. “The Yiga don’t fuck around,” he said. “I’ve told you they’ve been a pain in my ass for years.”

Aryll hesitated. “So, what happened?”

“Your mother got away safely.”

“How?”

Rusl sighed. “I drove my car into them and we flipped off the bridge.”

“And you lived? ”

Rusl laughed. “No.”

Aryll blinked at him. “What?”

“We fucking went into the lake,” Rusl said. “No one lived.”

“But… you’re alive.”

“By some dumb fucking luck,” he muttered. “Dorian saved me.”

“Wait. And the Yiga Clan dropped it? Just like that?”

Rusl shrugged. “Guess they figured we all died. Link included. And in the end, that’s what they wanted.”

“Unless Dorian went back and told them the truth,” Link said. His gaze was narrowed on his father.

Rusl shrugged. “Maybe he did. Maybe he didn’t. Regardless, it kept them quiet for a while. They spent the next few years preparing for Ganondorf and opening the portals around Hyrule.”

“That was them?” Link sneered.

“Well, who else would it be?”

Link hesitated. He pulled his gaze away. “We should have dealt with them ten years ago,” he said. “If I had known -”

“There was nothing you could have done,” Rusl said. “And I certainly wasn’t going to let you try to stop them. Not after you barely survived Ganondorf. The Master Sword needed to be returned before the Yiga Clan could get their hands on it. And that’s the best thing you could have done at the time. You were safe under Impa’s ward; the Yiga Clan weren’t getting their hands on you as long as you remained in the city.”

“That’s how they found us?” Aryll asked softly. “Because we left the city?”

“Yes.”

Aryll hesitated. “So, after everything you did for us, we fucked everything up.”

“It was bound to happen sooner or later,” Rusl said with a shrug. “Link would have eventually found out about the Yiga Clan and he would have gone out to try to stop them. There was nothing I could have done to prevent that. Even faking my own death, apparently.”

“You did that… to stop Link?”

“I was their captive,” Rusl said. “I was MIA. Roham had no choice but to tell you I died. And you were better off believing that. When I got out, I couldn’t go back. I would have brought the Yiga Clan right to you both. And there was no way I could have come back and explained what had happened. Link would have learned the truth, and he would have gone after the Yiga Clan. He would have walked right into their hands, which is exactly what they wanted.” He shrugged. “I don’t even think they bothered to look for me. They wanted me to go back. Anything to lure Link to them. I didn’t have a choice if I wanted to keep you both safe.”

“They got us, anyway,” Aryll muttered.

“Yeah, they did,” Rusl said slowly. “And that’s why I came back. You were in too deep. If I wanted to protect you both, I couldn’t stay in hiding. I knew Link would try to take them on himself, so I had to stop him from getting himself killed, again.” He turned to Link, emphasizing the last bit, but Link rolled his eyes and turned away.

“This is all fucked up,” Aryll said. “No wonder Link doesn’t trust anyone.”

“Welcome to your fucked up family,” Rusl said. He turned his horse around to head back into the forest.

“I don’t know if I’d say you’re fucked up,” Aryll started. “But certainly unique. I don’t think anyone could top a hero brother and a father who came back from the dead.”

“You’d be surprised,” Link muttered. “Give it time. Something else is bound to pop up.”

Rusl grinned over his shoulder. “You really don’t want to get any deeper than you already are.”

Aryll frowned. “How much deeper can we get?”

“Depends on how much of the truth you want to know,” Rusl said. “Hyrule is built on secrets. Hylia even has her own secrets.”

“How so?” Aryll asked, her gaze narrowed on her father. “She’s a Goddess. How can you possibly know she has secrets?”

“It’s our job to know,” Rusl said. “Hylians are the embodiment of Hylia.” He glanced at his daughter. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but we’re not like everyone else.”

Aryll hesitated. “Well, yeah, I guess.”

“That being said, we’re not exactly like Hylians once were, either. The bloodlines have changed through the generations. There are very few true Hylians left. Even those that remain do not carry the same power that Hylians once had.”

“What are you saying?”

“Hylians are dying out,” Rusl said frankly. “The Sheikah are dying out. And once we do, so will Hylia. No one believes in her like they once did.”

Aryll frowned. “So, what secrets does she have?”

Rusl glanced at his children. “It’s not important,” he said after a moment.

Link narrowed his gaze on him. “It sounds important.”

“It’s not,” Rusl insisted. “The point is, this war gets deeper with every rebirth of the hero. With every generation, Hylia’s powers weaken.”

“What does that mean?” Aryll pressed.

“It means that Hyrule is coming to its end,” Rusl said. “Not in our lifetime, but soon. The Hylians will be extinct, and as a result, the spirits of the hero will not be reborn. Ganondorf will rise and Demise will return to power.”

“So, what’s the point of all of this if he’s going to get his way in the end, anyway?” Aryll sneered.

“That’s not for us to decide,” Rusl said. “Whatever happens in the end is beyond our control. All we can do is buy Hyrule time. We stop Ganondorf every time and hope that somewhere down the line, there is a way to break the curse.”

“You’re leaving the entire future of the world up to chance?” Link sneered.

Rusl turned to him. “What do you think you can do about it?”

“I wouldn’t stand around and do nothing.”

“The Sheikah have been trying for years,” Rusl assured him. “No one is standing around and doing nothing.”

“What in the hell did we do to deserve this damn curse, anyway?” Aryll muttered.

“The Goddesses took everything from Demise,” Rusl explained. “This world belonged to him.”

Aryll blinked at her father. “That’s… that’s not true!”

“It is. Whether you want to believe it or not. He was originally intended to keep the Triforce safe, but he abused that power. That’s when Hylia stepped in to stop him and sealed him away.”  

“Hyrule doesn’t belong to him,” Aryll insisted. “Not if he had evil intent.”

“You’re right,” Rusl said. “But that’s how it was. That’s why things are this way.”

“And there’s nothing we can do to prevent this?” Aryll asked softly.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” Rusl said.

“But we should be worrying about it,” Aryll said, raising her voice. “We should be doing something!”

“The Sheikah have dedicated their lives to this,” Rusl said. “If there’s a way to change Hyrule’s future, they will find it.” He looked over his shoulder, noticing then that Link had fallen behind. His horse was grazing happily, and Link’s forehead was creased as he stared at the ground, deep in thought.

“Look,” Rusl started. “I’m sorry I said anything. I wasn’t going to because I knew you would try to make this your problem. But I promised no more secrets.”

Link looked up and met Rusl’s gaze. He searched Rusl’s eyes, and Rusl hesitated.

“What’s wrong?”

“You told me this,” Link started. “When I was there.” His brows furrowed and he looked down at the ground. “Except you were working with them. You tried to get me killed.” He hesitated. “If it were just a hallucination, how could I have known that?”

His father didn’t seem fazed by Link’s words. “It’s part of who we are,” he said. “It’s a subconscious kind of knowledge. Like the power of the Triforce. You really didn’t know it was there until you needed to know.”

“The voice of Hylia,” Aryll said softly. “That’s what they say, right? That only Hylians can hear her. We just don’t really listen anymore, do we?” She frowned. “We’re responsible for our own demise.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Rusl said. “Even the Sheikah can’t know for sure what the future holds. There’s almost always more than what meets the eye.”

[notalwaysthevillian]

Lost and Found

Beta Readers: @hi-disappointed-im-daughter and @infinitesimalsolemnvow

Word Count: 2.6k

Pairings: Logicality, eventual Prinxiety

Warnings: Manipulative Deceit, revenge, disguise, mention of labor, knife, kidnapping, babying

Masterlist

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Over the years, Dorian had become addicted to the flower. It was the only thing that reversed his wretched curse. The only thing that kept him human.

If only he hadn’t been caught as a spy. His master had been furious, insisting that if he was going to act as a snake, he may as well be one. If he hadn’t already begun his escape incantation...he didn’t want to think about how far gone he would be now.

He took extra caution with his flower, making sure to hide it after each use. No one would take his flower away, he would make sure of it.

It would’ve been easier if he stopped using the flower, and figured out the counter-curse on his own, but it was far too late now. Nothing would stop this curse. Nothing but his flower.

He couldn’t resist the euphoric feeling the flower gave him. The feeling of life, a feeling he hadn’t felt since his youth. It was too much, giving him withdrawal symptoms too quickly.

But he never expected the royals to find his flower. Certainly not so soon.

Hearing someone powering through the brush on the beach, Dorian threw the basket haphazardly over his flower and darted off into the trees. He stayed close enough to see his flower, but far enough away that he wouldn’t be seen.

As he watched, a mage stumbled onto the beach, looking around frantically. The man dove into the sand, digging with his hands. He pulled out a coin and looked devastated. After a moment he leaned back, hitting his head on Dorian’s basket.

Dorian’s eyes flew wide as the man tossed the basket away. The man started crying and conjured a spade. Dorian could only watch, pained as the man took his beautiful flower away. The mage then shouted something and disappeared.

Ad regum.

The king.

Of course. He’d heard a rumor that one of the kings had been locked in the castle. He must’ve had a serious illness that only the flower could cure.

Dorian charged through the forest, making a desperate plan. That mage was going to regret taking his flower away. He would cross any line to get it back, even if it meant killing the king.

He disguised himself as a servant just before entering the gates. The guards waved him through with ease, causing Dorian to hold in his laughter at their stupidity. He entered the castle, picked up a duster and stalked toward the king’s chambers.

“Did you hear? King Patton is saved!”

“That means the heir is too.”

The heir.

A grin spread slowly over Dorian’s face as a much better plan formed in his head.

He would get his flower back.

Over the next two months, he successfully managed to infiltrate the palace staff. He kept his head low and did as he was asked, occasionally calling upon his own magic to help him.

As more days passed, more of his scales came back. If the baby wasn’t born soon, he would be lost to the curse, having spent his last days as a servant.

It disgusted him.

Finally, finally, the day arrived. King Patton had been whisked off to his room in the early hours of the morning. Dorian hovered as close as he dared to the king’s chambers. He was nearly run over by the mage at one point. Luckily the mage didn’t spare a second glance.

The idiot.

After that encounter, Dorian stayed a floor below the kings. He could hear everything in the room below, which happened to be a storage closet. He’d taken it upon himself to relieve the servant stuck with organizing duty. She had thanked him profusely, as she much preferred dusting, and couldn’t stand the cries of the king in pain.

As the day neared its end, the screams above stopped. Dorian listened hard, but he could hear no more.

The heir had arrived.

Biding his time, he waited for the kings to retire to their bedroom. He found the doctor, the one called Lynette, feeding the baby.

“Pardon me, miss, but one of the servant girls has asked for you. I’m afraid that she has eaten some bad fish. One of the other girls tells me that she’s been in the washroom for the better part of an hour.” He rasped, disguising his voice.

“The cook warned everyone that the fish was bad.” Lynette shook her head, looking down at the baby and back at Dorian. “Sir, I’m terribly sorry, but could you finish feeding Virgil? I will make sure that you do not get in trouble for shirking your duties.”

“Of course, ma’am. Anything for the heir.” Dorian just managed to keep the smirk off his face as the heir, Virgil, was handed to him.

“Thank you,” the doctor said, before rushing out of the room.

Dorian conjured a knife, slicing off the barest hint of hair.

To his horror, the silver color faded immediately, replaced with brown.

“No. No!” He whispered, throwing the knife at the wall. It stuck with only a small thud.

The gears turned in Dorian’s mind and gave him a solution. He snapped his fingers, conjuring his basket, and placed the heir, Virgil, inside. The baby’s eyes were sliding shut as he did so.

Dorian covered him with a blanket, before rearranging the pillows in the bassinet. He would be out the front gates before they even knew Virgil was gone.

He scurried down the servant’s hallway, nodding to the others. No one suspected anything from the loyal servant who’d been at the castle for months.

As he neared the gates, his heart began to beat faster. Almost there. Almost-

Shouts of alarm rang through the castle as he opened the gate. Fear filled his chest as he disappeared into the forest, heading for the old, crumbling tower he had lived in as a child.

Locking himself in the tower, he put the basket down and lifted Virgil out. If this didn’t work, at least he had ruined the lives of the kings who had stolen his precious flower.

The baby squirmed in his arms until Dorian opened his mouth and began to sing. The man prayed to every deity he could think of that his plan would work.

“Flower, gleam and glow. Let your power shine. Make the curse reverse, bring back what once was mine.”

As his deep baritone rang hauntingly around the room, Virgil’s hair began to glow. Dorian’s eyes widened as he watched, forgetting to continue until the glow started to slightly fade.

“Heal what has been hurt. Change the fate’s design. Save what has been lost, bring back what once was mine.” Dorian paused, taking in a deep breath.

“What once was mine.”

The familiar euphoric feeling returned. Dorian felt his scales receding as his skin smoothed out. He looked out the window, toward the barely visible castle in the distance and grinned.

As the years passed, Virgil grew into a fine young man with a beautiful voice. When he reached the age of 5, Dorian taught him the song. He requested that Virgil sing it once a day, otherwise thieves would come and steal him right out of the tower.

Virgil grew up absolutely terrified of leaving the tower, just as Dorian had planned. When Virgil was 13, he asked if he could simply head down to the creek. Dorian had taught him all the dangers of hypothermia, and Virgil never asked to leave again.

Instead, Virgil stayed in the tower. Dorian bought him a few books-one on botany, one on geology, and one on cooking.

Virgil read through the books carefully, learning which flowers were poisonous, which types of rocks were the hardest (and were therefore more likely to hurt him), and how to cook everything perfectly so there was no chance of food poisoning.

Dorian continued to have Virgil sing to him daily as he got older. After nearly 18 years of singing, he figured out that he could leave for up to 4 days now before the curse took hold. Over those years, Virgil had taught himself all sorts of skills, such as cleaning, sewing, ballet, and many others.

Virgil had also taught himself art.

Dorian had noticed the walls start to become covered in paintings, but he said nothing. His flower needed to rely on him so that he would stay in the tower.

In fact, he criticized the art, despite the fact that it was breathtaking.

“Father, what do you think?” Virgil asked biting his lip. He didn’t make eye contact with Dorian, something the man had ingrained into him.

Dorian’s eyes raked over the painting, searching for a flaw and finding none.

“Your colors are muddied.” He deadpanned, running a finger through the still drying paint. He heard Virgil gasp behind him as he smeared the paint. “And the creek is flowing the wrong way.”

Virgil made a noise of protest behind him.

Dorian whirled around, sending Virgil scrambling toward the wall. The young boy tripped over his hair, falling to the floor.

“Do you doubt me?” He asked, his tone icy.

Virgil shook his head. “N-no, sir.”

Dorian gave him a nod, before grabbing the stool. “Good. Now sit.”

Virgil did as he was told, handing Dorian a brush. “F-father, there is something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Oh?” Dorian began to run a brush through Virgil’s long flowing hair. Virgil hadn’t asked for anything since he was 13. “Sing for me first, Virgil.”

“Flowergleamandglow,letyourpowershine,” Virgil sang as quickly as possible. Dorian protested, but Virgil continued. “Makethecursereverse,bringbackwhatoncewasmine. Healwhathasbeenhurt,changethefatesdesign,savewhathasbeenlost, bringbackwhatoncewasmine. Whatoncewasmine.”

Dorian barely managed to run the brush through Virgil’s hair, sweeping the magic into himself. Virgil turned to face him, a smile on his face. It morphed into a grimace of fear as Dorian frowned at him.

“Next time, you will sing at a regular speed. Understood?” Dorian threw the brush at Virgil.

It hit the boy in the chest, hard, and he scrambled to catch it. “Y-yes Father.”

“Now, what was it you were going to ask me?” Standing in front of the mirror, Dorian began to examine his face, making sure the scales weren’t coming back.

Virgil darted across the room, pulling back a curtain, revealing another impeccable painting on the wall. It showed Virgil, sitting on the windowsill, gazing out at blobs of yellow that floated through the sky.

“I-I was hoping that-could you-”

“Virgil, you know I hate stuttering. Out with it.” Dorian turned back to the mirror, keeping an eye on the boy’s reflection.

“I want to see the floating lights!”

Dorian turned around, examining the blobs in the painting once more. “Virgil, I thought you knew better than this. Those are stars.”

“I’ve charted stars,” Virgil started, swinging his hair up to open the skylight. Beams of sunshine lit up a star chart on the opposite wall. “They’re always constant. These lights, they only appear once a year. On my birthday. I just-I can’t help but think that maybe they’re meant for me. I need to see them. In person, not from the window. Please.”

It was rare for Virgil to stand up for himself.

Dorian hated it.

“You want to go outside?” He moved towards the window and closed it. Virgil wouldn’t be content to simply sit and listen to him lecture, so Dorian began to sing. “Why, Virgil-

“Look at you as fragile as a flower, still a little sapling, just a sprout. You know why we stay up in this tower-”

Virgil cut him off. “I know, but-”

“That’s right. To keep you safe and sound dear.” Dorian interrupted, running his fingers through Virgil’s hair as he moved toward the window.

“Guess I always knew this day was coming.” He sang, closing the curtain. “Knew that soon you’d want to leave the nest! Soon, but not yet-”

“But-”

“Shh!” Dorian made a grabbing motion with his hand, and Virgil fell silent. “Trust me, pet. Father knows best.”

He punched one of the wooden beams, activating the pulley that closed the skylight. Virgil gasped as the room plunged into darkness.

A light filled the room as Virgil lit a candle. Dorian crept up behind him.

“Father knows best, listen to your Father, it’s a scary world out there.”

Virgil let out a yelp and scrambled backwards as Dorian appeared in the light, his hands held above him like claws. Dorian vanished into the darkness again, tugging on Virgil’s hair before looping it around a hook.

Virgil began to tug back on his hair as Dorian snuck around to his back.

“Father knows best, one way or another, something will go wrong I swear!”

He caught Virgil as he fell into the one spot of light in the room, before darting back into the shadows.

“Ruffians, thugs,” Dorian sang, using his magic to make shadow puppets realistic enough to terrify Virgil. “Poison ivy, quicksand.”

“Cannibals and snakes,” he flipped a voodoo doll in a frying pan, emphasizing his point, before snapping his fingers and changing it into a lantern with an eerie green glow. “The plague.”

“No!” Virgil cried out, starting to sink into his hair.

“Yes.”

“But-”

“Also large bugs.” Snapping his fingers again, a portrait of his true self appeared on the floor. “Men with pointy teeth. And stop! No more, you’ll just upset me.”

Virgil wound his hair around himself and lit another candle, quaking with fear. Dorian grabbed the boy, afraid that he would catch his hair on fire, and pulled him to his feet.

“Father’s right here. Father will protect you.” Virgil threw his arms around Dorian. Disgusted by this, Dorian quickly switched places with a mannequin, appearing at the top of the stairs, summoning lit candles for effect. “Darling here’s what I suggest! Skip the drama, stay with papa. Faaatheeeer knows best!”

He let out a low chuckle, sweeping his cape around himself to plunge Virgil into darkness once more. He continued to sing as he walked behind the boy, putting out the candles behind him.

“Father knows best, take it from your popsy, on your own you won’t survive.”

He saw Virgil heading towards the mirror and grabbed the back of it, tipping it downward.

“Sloppy, underdressed,” Dorian moved out from behind the mirror, tugging on Virgil’s hair once more, “immature, clumsy. Please, they’ll eat you up aliveeeeeee!”

He rolled Virgil up in his hair tightly, keeping the boy tied up. “Gullible, naive. Positively grubby.”

Grabbing one end, he yanked. Virgil spun around as he unraveled, stumbling around the room. “Ditzy and a bit...well, hmm, vague.”

“Plus, I believe, getting kinda chubby. I’m just saying cuz I wuv you,” Dorian sang, pressing Virgil’s cheeks together, treating him like a child. Virgil’s face flushed with embarrassment as Dorian let go and walked back into the darkness.

“Father understands, Father’s here to help you.” Virgil looked around, whimpering. Dorian took pity on the boy and opened the skylight, standing where Virgil could see him. “All I have is one requeeeestttt.”

Virgil looked relieved and sprinted over, throwing himself into Dorian’s arms. Though he looked at the boy with disdain, Dorian let him have his moment.

Dorian petted Virgil’s hair. “Virgil?”

“Yes?” Virgil said, his eyes bright with hope.

Dorian put his hands on the boy’s shoulders, squeezing them tightly, before looking at him with complete sincerity. “Don’t ever ask to leave this tower again.”

The hope fled from Virgil’s eyes in an instant, replaced with tears. He looked down to the floor. “Yes, Father.”

“Oh, I love you very much, dear,” Dorian said, tilting Virgil’s head up to see if any tears had fallen. He’d discovered early on that Virgil’s tears also contained magic.

Virgil’s face was clear as he looked up, repeating what had been conditioned into him. “I love you more.”

“I love you most,” Dorian said, kissing Virgil’s hair.

“Don’t forget it. You’ll regret it. Father knows best.”

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[veridium]

A return to a Skyhold brings the Inquisitor and Chief Ambassador Montilyet back to reality, but something has irrevocably shifted past the point of no return. Entering on horseback together hardly speaks of a platonic ambivalence, after all. The trajectory is interrupted by a new challenge on the horizon: Adamant Fortress, and the Grey Wardens. The room for indecisiveness is rapidly shrinking.

The towering walls of Skyhold reached for the skies, and its might extended along with it as the group finally made their way through the first gate and across the bridge. Theia could feel her grip on Josephine’s waist – which had scarcely left its spot for more than a moment or two at a time – grip slightly tighter in anticipation of letting her go. Josephine did not avoid this; in fact, the security she felt there against her chest and in the saddle was a memory she would hold closely tucked in her heart for the rest of her days.

“Ah! At long last, our fortress invites us back into its arms,” Vivienne called out from her carriage window. Riding her horse next to it was the Seeker, who could not help but grin with relief as they had finally returned from a most temperamental excursion.

Soon, the roaring sound of the second gate erupted through the cavernous mountain air, opening itself up for them. The shadows it cast as the sunlight behind the fortress flickered through its square patterned holes reflected on their contented, tired faces.

Pulling into the courtyard, Theia’s eyes scanned the stairwell and walkways for any Advisors or allies who had gathered around to be a welcome-home reception. Cheerfully, Varric waved to her from the fence guarding the upper yard, and then her eyes also found Iron Bull who nodded austerely in her direction.

She saw Leliana standing at the very top of the stairs, hands at her sides, looking like she had just managed to make it in time after the horn had blown, announcing their arrival.

The Spymaster’s discerning green eyes locked on the sight of her friend in the lap of the Inquisitor, in a rare show of creativity for the Ambassador who had upheld decorum like it was her most valued virtue. This made her intrigued as to just how much the reports she had collected from the Scouts’ ravens left out.

Back at the Courtyard ground level, Commander Cullen approached Theia’s horse, as she gently pulled the reigns until the animal halted.

“Inquisitor, glad to see you have returned in one piece. There are reports on your desk that have collected in your absence, but, I assure you nothing out of the ordinary has occurred here as far as our military is concerned,” he said light-heartedly. It took him a moment – and Josephine using both her hands to toss back her hood – to realize Theia’s accompaniment was of particular familiarity to him.

“Oh, Lady Ambassador, I—“

“What, Cullen? Did you not see me here? Was my dress so adequate a camouflage?” Josephine teased, a smile on her lips softening the blow.

Cullen sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps seeing you in such a casual shape left you unrecognizable to the unwise eye,” he jested back.

Theia couldn’t help but bite back a laugh, resting her pursed lips on Josephine’s shoulder for a moment as she tried her best to not egg either side on with her reaction. Swallowing it, she raised her face and spoke.

“Thank you Commander, I’ll see to my duties at once. I’m especially looking forward to the any scouting reports we’ve received from Hawke. Has there been any word?”

“A report came in early this morning via Raven. Leliana will be able to provide insight after you read it.”

“Thank you, that is just what I was hoping to hear.”

As Cullen nodded and withdrew from the conversation so as to check in with the troops that had come with them, she released the reigns from her hands and dismounted, landing gingerly on the ground as her concern turned immediately to Lady Montilyet who remained seated. She reached her hands up, and when Josephine took hold she braced the tension of her fall as she slid off the side, landing rather tucked between the horse’s side and Theia’s chest.

“I suppose that in return for this, you must expect me to avoid you to balance things out?” she asked quickly, while she still had her in front of her, and most of her attention.

Josephine let her hands linger on Theia’s upper arms as she listened to her question. She looked past the Inquisitor’s soldier, at her friend’s pale and observant face as she watched them from above. Exhaling, she turned her eyes back to her.

“No, but, do allow me to attend to my duties. I am sure we both have quite the workload awaiting us,” she spoke decisively.

“Fair enough. Happy writing, my Lady. I will have the treaties delivered to your office as soon as I can,” Theia said, before letting her break free from her hold. She watched the Ambassador collect her skirts as she walked briskly towards and starting up the stairs. Then, it became time to unpack, debrief, and become acquainted with the next challenge at hand.

Before that, however, some more warm greetings from good friends. An arrow shot from the upper level grounds, hitting the ground right beside Theia’s feet. She did not flinch one ounce of weight, however, and in fact looked as if she had been expecting it.

“Ah, so you missed me after all, Sera?!” she called out jovially, slipping her riding gloves off of her hands. From that point, she could see Sera’s petite stature stand up from a crouched position. Sera gave a smug grin in return for the happy remark.

“Inquisitor, back from the clutches of those fancy pants in Monty-lard. Good to know,” Sera called out, before walking back to what Theia would assume was her room in the pub…or the Undercroft.

Theia turned around and was met again with a friendly face, this time Dorian as he swaggered to her side coolly. “My friend, I do hope you will regale me with every inch of intrigue you encountered on your journey. The way you entered atop a thundering steed with a fair maiden at your side tells me you had quite the time,” he mused, crossing his arms.

“Dorian, it is good to see you. I never thought I would meet people who would make me miss how grounded you are,” she giggled, slapping Dorian’s arm with a riding glove.

“Inquisitor, if I am to be your standard for human candor, then I suggest you take up more drinking,” he replied, a warm smile appearing on his lips.

“You’re right, I should. Perhaps tonight.”

Theia patted him on the shoulder before she made her way over to the carriages, catching the last of the boxes being unloaded. She stood at the Seeker’s side as she did so.

“Seeker, thank you for accompanying us. I am always honored that you put up with me and whatever trouble follows me around Thedas.”

Cassandra shook her head. “It seems as though the Maker wishes me to bear witness to all of your entanglements. I can only assume this is the more mild of circumstances we will find ourselves in,” her observant personality shining through her words.

“Well, whatever happens next, be sure to not hold back if you ever want me to get my shit together.”

“I never tried otherwise, Inquisitor.”

--

The War Council meeting that took place an hour later brought an important decision to the center of all concerns. Theia had found her way to the piles of parchment at her desk, and indeed a scouting report had found its way from Hawke’s hands to theirs. The Adamant fortress was confirmed as being used to house the Grey Wardens while they worked to prevent future Blights by utilizing blood magic, compelled to do so by the widespread Calling evoked by Corypheus. This conclusion left little outside options available besides direct siege.

“This has to happen fast. If the Western Approach was an experiment, they must be nearing full execution,” Leliana said, walking around the corner of the table in a pacing maneuver.

“Cullen, your opinion on the age of the fort makes sense, but that still means we need considerable manpower,” Theia thought out loud, her hip leaning on the edge of the table as she eyed the region south of the Hissing Wastes, where Adamant embedded itself through the ages.

“Yes, but we have that now. And, given some more time to prepare, we can be even stronger,” the Commander insisted.

“I can continue communications with nearby nobles who have resources for transporting and fortifying siege equipment. The fortress will require usage of more than just foot soldiers and archers,” the Ambassador spoke as she wrote.

“We need trebuchets, something to break down the door, and infrastructure to support backlash,” Leliana fed off of Josephine’s thought process.

“They’ll be expecting us, with that despicable puppet at their side acting on Corypheus’s behalf. Warden Clarel has gotten herself in deep,” the Inquisitor holding her thumb against her chin.

“Yes, but she is one woman. A woman with power, but one person nonetheless. The Wardens are protective of their ranks, but they are not all without reason. Thought it may be too late to salvage the Templars, the Wardens may yet hold hope,” Leliana would wager, even with her lover off in the great wide somewhere, that there were more than just the Hero of Fereldan who would stand for reason.

“Very well. I want training to buckle-down with the troops. We march within the week, as soon as Hawke and Stroud return to confirm any last intel. Until then, we should send a Raven to ask if they can confirm possible locations of back passages for scouts before they withdraw their mission. Commander, let me know if I can assist with any restocking efforts of food and raw materials. I will work with Dagna and the Blacksmith to make sure we have everyone outfitted properly. With the latest shipments of Silverite and Dawnstone from Sarhnia region, Dagna and I should have some fun. I will see everyone tonight for supper.”

With that, The Inquisitor convened the meeting, and the Council members were free to go back to their duties. The looming anticipation of Adamant took hold of the air soon afterward with a most brutish grip.

--

“So, you await a return to battle once more,” Josephine’s voice echoed from inside Theia’s bedchamber, out to the balcony where she stood watching the sunset down over the mountains. The Inquisitor’s arms were folded as she stood in contemplation, although now her visitor called her attention to the present moment. Perhaps she was the better for it.

“Alas, I fear the only times we will ever have for each other are either during haphazard diplomatic affairs or the eve of my return to danger’s most welcoming breast,” Theia played, pivoting on her hip so as to look back at the Lady Ambassador, who was making her way out to join her. She had changed back into her gold and purple robes, looking as if they had never rode across snow-capped mountain valleys or danced on the floor of a sweaty, packed dance hall.

“You tease, but I know it weighs heavily on your mind. I’ve seen the look in your eyes before missions are begun,” Josephine lamented, at last arriving at the Inquisitor’s side.

“Oh? Are you suggesting I’m not always a peach to be around?” Theia continued to press a sense of humor into a conversation that Josephine clearly wanted to be serious. It was a confirmed suspicion when she saw Josephine’s eyes, giving her that look of quit it.

“Theia, a moment of honesty,” Lady Montilyet suggested.

Theia’s chest tensed with the pressure of the breath she held onto, trying to put together her thoughts. Her face let down the façade of wit and was now authentically in-touch with the brevity of the situation.

“I have always been ambitious in my studies, Josephine. Being a powerful and capable Mage has always been a goal of mine. Thinking about what the Wardens are gambling with, and how many people they have probably already lost and yet stand to lose, it makes me feel hollow to know such choices can be made if people are scared enough beyond sense. Blood magic is…controversial, to say the least. I cannot deny I feel intimidated by the risk of encountering a legion of Grey Wardens with the capabilities Blood Magic bestows.”

“Surely, though, the extent to which they have been able to master it has not been fully realized yet. I am not familiar as you are, but my impression of the process is that it takes time and ritual investment.”

“True, but what has yet stood in the way of Grey Wardens when they are being hunted down by time and death?” Theia shifted her weight between her feet as she talked.

“History would say the worst and most depraved of enemies,” Josephine replied, turning around to face the Inquisitor from the side. “This is why the Inquisition exists, and this is why we must succeed in our endeavors.”

“You make it sound as if there is no other possible outcome to be realized.”

“That is because there is none. If we fail, that is the end.”

“Look at you, gloom and doom before your first glass of wine with dinner.”

“Agh, it has been a long day, perhaps my sense of humor has gone to bed before I have.”

Theia grinned and turned back, walking inside to her desk and eyeing the papers she had been working on. “Tell me, Josephine, were you ever intimidated by me?” Theia asked from over her shoulder as her hands moved to organize the parchments into more tidy piles.

“Of course, who was not? You were—are, the Herald, after all.”

“Yes, but I mean me as a person. You know, underneath all that fame and superstition.”

Josephine’s eyes narrowed as she followed after her, standing a few feet away when she answered.

“I suppose so, but…in a way, I sympathized with you. When I first laid eyes on you, my first thought was of how young you seemed. Yet, your eyes and words spoke of experiences beyond the limits of your youth.”

Theia’s eyebrows raised as she turned around to face the Ambassador. “I suppose it went away then when you realized just how imperfect I was.”

“No, it merely changed to respect. Intimidation prolonged is simply a sign of underlying insecurity within oneself. Rarely is it the pure objective existence of a given person.”

“I am sure you have had many experiences to teach you that wisdom,” Theia sat back on the end of her desk, hands gripping the table surface edge. “I must say, listening to you talk makes everything feel like a matter of winning a chess game. Like the next maneuver is just right in front of your face.”

Josephine smiled softly, coming in closer until she was close enough to take hold of Theia’s hands that she watched tensely grip on the table. It was always one of the easiest ways to tell if Theia was hiding stress, the way she dislocated the feeling into other limbs of her body just so.

“People who master talking do not always master action. This is why entities like our Council are so vital, they combine both into something truly forceful,” Josephine comforted, intertwining her fingers with hers.

Theia paused before responding, her gaze lowering so as to watch their hands interweave together. Her mouth opened, but she let out a breath, stalling just a few seconds more.

“You know when you make me nervous, I can feel the anchor?”

“Really? It is that responsive? I thought it just reacted to the rifts.”

“No, it is embedded in my nerves, I think. It almost acts in concert with them. Back at the pub, that night…I felt it under the skin of my palm.”

“Should we be concerned? Has it always done this, Theia?”

“Yes, it is hardly new. I just thought it was a funny thing. First my eyes, with their colors, and now this Anchor. I’m like a walking light beacon of emotions,” she joked half-heartedly. A moment of silence compelled her to see what Josephine’s facial expression was, and when she saw the concern in it, she could only smirk bitter-sweetly.

“My Love, only one of us can be the somber one. The other must spur their temper until eventually they bite back and snap out of their sadness. I thought we rehearsed this enough for you to get the cue.”

“Theia, mi amor, if it were me in your position you would be there to hold my hands and comfort me through my despair. Let me be of service to you in that way,” Josephine muttered, leaning her upper body into her, until their foreheads touched.

Another moment passed of melancholy. Theia had wrapped her hands around Josephine’s waist, and in turn the Ambassador’s hands rested on her chest.

“Tell me you will come to me tonight. I don’t care how busy you are, bring your work. Let me watch you work with only the bedsheets to drape this body of yours. You can use my back as a hard surface to write on. I don’t care,” Theia asked, the sweetness aching in her voice.

The invitation warmed Josephine’s face, thinking of the quiet peace that would surround them if they could just fast-forward to that distinct moment, paying no mind to dinner or socialization. This interim visit could turn into an entire night of them, and they could reclaim what they had found in the mountains, keep recreating it over and over.

“Theia, until the night you leave for Adamant, you will not fall asleep alone. This I can most definitely arrange,” she smiled.

Theia’s eyes glowed with happiness that she was trying hard not to have burst forth from her body like a dozen crazed butterflies.

“Alright, but, you stick me with that quill of yours and you will be at my mercy,” she replied, biting her lip.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, surely,” Josephine nudged her nose against hers, “but if it happens, it happens.”

--

Dinner was less ceremonial than if there were visiting dignitaries to entertain. When it was simply the Inquisition, people walking between tables, grabbing food as they mingled, and there was no toast or heavy-handed ritual of entry for the Advisors or the Inquisitor herself. Theia liked these dinners best; she could be more of herself, and she was allowed to let her guard down. Whether or not she did so,

From her seat at the end of one of the banquet tables, the Inquisitor watched as the laughter and casual conversation warmed the room, and it made her less restless than she was when she was hulled up in her room, deep in thought about the upcoming siege on Adamant fortress. She had to decide which allies would be at her side, explore schematics for armor and weapon reinforcements with Dagna in time to have them crafted, see that any and all back-up plans should anything go awry were properly agreed upon. Her head was always submerged in the preparations of battle when it came time to prepare.

“Inquisitor, why do you look as though you just climbed out of a pit of demons just to find someone had stolen your last dessert pastry?” Varric’s warm and humoring voice sounded off by her left ear. Snapping herself out of her mind, she turned and smiled.

“Varric, is that a question or a testimony of guilt?” her voice ached with bittersweetness.

“You know me, I never admit to anything unless it enhances my ability to get out of an even worse mistake,” he chuckled, patting her on the shoulder with his hand. “This is the first dinner you’ve gotten to just relax, and you’re doing anything but.”

“I have a lot on my mind, and I am tired from the morning’s ride. Surely Dorian and the rest of you can make up for the absence of my poor jokes and sarcasm.”

“Honestly? That task might be more daunting than the one with the hole in the sky. Take care, Inquisitor, to take your breaks where you got ‘em,” Varric smiled and headed back to his seat. His life had made him an exceptionally qualified judge of the wits and character of women who were tasked with saving people from imminent danger.

Scanning the room, she noticed two of her Advisors were missing from the Hall. The Commander had ate and gone back to his barracks without much fuss or wasted time, which meant Leliana and Josephine were the only two remaining who hadn’t shown themselves. She had hoped it wasn’t due to anything that would inspire a lecture on safe sex or “How to Love In Time of Apocalypse 101.” But, knowing the Spymaster, it was probably just that.

--

Indeed, even with the echo the tower created, Leliana found it the most trustworthy location to invite her friend to so as to talk about private matters. They sat beside each other on the bench by her work table, the Ravens cawing and fluttering wings as they awaited their evening meals.

“So,” Leliana sat back against the wall, “you have found an exception to your many rules and regulations of behavior, no?” she had been closed off from Josephine while caring for her duties, sure, but that did not mean Leliana did not care, or that she would stand idly by while she watched her friend embark through uncharted territory.

Josephine tucked an ankle behind the other, sitting with proper posture, even as her face and shoulder softened thinking about the complexity of her situation.

“I have so many differing opinions and perspectives in my mind about what is best. First, I have my own, which says I should not jeopardize what I have worked so hard for. Then, I have words like the ones Vivienne said to me, saying to be unapologetic and unburdened by the idle minds of others. Then…”

“There’s her.”

Josephine’s lipsed pursed as she made eye contact with her. “And she is so determined and assured in this, I almost forget I am supposed to be the expert on Diplomacy and Politics.”

“There is truth to that, Josie, but you must also take into consideration just how fast she has had to learn how to maneuver and present herself. You learned through years of practice, diligence, and repetition. She has learned via the motivation to survive.”

“Then why am I here? To be a snobbish reminder that the opinions of rich nobles are more important than they actually are?”

“No, you are here because without your abilities and knowledge, we would founder. We cannot simply support the weight of military power and spies and expect all of Thedas to see us as more than a splintered group of violent rebels.”

Josephine rubbed her hands as her thoughts raced. Her eyes wandered, trying to make some sense, some kind of linear thought.

“I wrote to Mother of my...circumstance.”

“And?”

“She is curious at best, ruthlessly judgemental at worst. I defend her without fail, but even I must admit Yvette’s distaste for Mother’s critical nature is not completely unfounded.”

“Your Mother is a shrewd woman who expects her daughters to be the same. It’s not a crime to hope the girls you raise into women are courageous and independent.”

“Yes, but I have dedicated my life to honoring that commitment, and now just as I have found one thing that does not align with those goals -- or, perhaps, complicates them is more precise wording -- everything starts to go awry.”

“Josie, perhaps the Inquisitor is right, and you are running before you should walk. Pulling a muscle before the sprint is hardly wise,” Leliana sat back from the wall, resting her hands on her knees.

“I just wish something would arise, some kind of sign, then. Something that shows me I am acting in the right ways, especially after that dream I had.”

“You had the last three days happen to you and you still need a sign? Maker, Josie, no wonder she is ready to chew through wood.”

“Leliana, spare me,” Josephine put her face into her hands as she hunched over her gathered lap. “I am simply trying to do what is best for everyone involved.”

“I know all-too-well your motivations, Josephine, which is why I did some diplomatic work of my own.” Leliana stood from the bench and made her way to the tower railing. “Sera! You may come upstairs now!” she called down.

Sera, being the person whom everyone could always depend upon to make a remarkable entrance, opted out of the stairs. Instead, she swung up and over the railing, having jumped from the library railing up to the third story with ease. Josephine blinked at the abruptness of her appearance, watching the rogue elf swing a leg around the wood rails and hop onto the ground.

“Spymaster, my pleasure. Lady Josie.” she nodded to both of them, scratching the side of her hip.

Leliana couldn’t help but grin with empathy for Sera’s mischief and dexterity.

“Sera, why don’t you tell my friend here what you took great care to find out using your contacts,” Leliana gathered her hands behind her waist as she turned to look in Josephine’s direction.

“Sure, though, I gotta admit my friends are real curious now, somethin’ about women gettin’ all cuddly with other women. They were more than giddy to help,” Sera grinned, leaning back on the rail.

“Leliana, what did you and Sera do?” Josephine said curtly, rising from her seat in order to stand level with them.

“Hush, Josie, just give us a chance,” Leliana shook her head, opening the floor again for Sera. “Go ahead.”

“Nobles are all in a tizzy about who catches the Inquisitor’s eye and arse, no doubt ‘bout it. But we dropped some hints here and there, nothing dirty or...anything, about a certain diplomaty-woman catchin’ her eye. My people say that there’s no sign of trouble or hurt feelins in their ranks. We seein’ nothing too scary or concerning on our end, and our end tends to be where you get to see the Bronto’s backside of all the intrigy-stuff. Assassination plots, poison’ins, orders to spit in wine, spyin,’ that sorta stuff.”

Josephine couldn’t help but hold her breath as she did her best to make sense of what Sera was saying. When it all came together -- after about 10 seconds of critical thinking -- her attention turned to Leliana.

“So, you trial-ballooned an affair between a Diplomat and the Inquisitor to see if there would be any backlash? I should have predicted you would do something like this,” the Ambassador folded her arms.

“If you had, you would have stopped me. Sometimes it is useful to be overlooked; besides, it is my trade to go undetected,” Leliana grinned out the side of her mouth with smug accomplishment.

“This is simply a select few rumors, though. More than triple the amount are sifted through before midday in Val Royeaux. We both know everyone gossips about the many possible suitors the Inquisitor may have, such discourse is fleeting and intemperate.”

“Yes, but you may use that to your advantage. But, I would advise a more confident approach than hiding behind the ebb and flow of Court gossip. Use your abilities to your advantage -- what do you do best? You arrange and strike accords.”

Sera couldn’t help but be slightly perturbed at the nausea of aristocratic talk.

“Josie -- if I could call ya that for a second -- Josie, listen. You got your head so far up in the crust of the pie you don’t see how the dish gets baked. The people like it when they see their own selves in you people with all the power and riches and...whatever it is you spend your time playin’ ‘round with.”

“Sera is right -- if you reinforce your play.”

Josephine found herself amused underneath the tension of the situation, seeing Leliana and Sera working together, seeming to converse across two separate dialects.

“Alright, alright, I see what you are trying to get across. Thank you Sera, for taking the time.”

“It’s all good, Ambassy-der. Any time gals need help gettin’ together, my bow is ready,” she chirped back. She then nodded a farewell to the Spymaster, before grabbing at the railing and hopping over.

From below, a very unnerved Solas could be heard asking -- in a tone that said it had not been the first time -- to use the stairs. Then, a giggle that quickly grew more distant, as Sera made her exit.

“Leliana, I must say, I am surprised that you would be so forthcoming in your encouragement of this...relationship. I thought you’d sooner see one of my suitors hung off from a banner pole than nudge them closer in my direction. Tell me, have you taken a page from Seeker Pentaghast’s novels?” a smile on Lady Montilyet’s face grew as she teased.

“Josie, I am fiercely defensive of you. But, I can also see how this makes you happy. Perhaps I see it more than you do at times,” Leliana stepped closer now. “I have discussed this with the Inquisitor, but, I wish for you to know it is possible to love someone in these times of great peril. It may not always feel that way, but it is true. I trust you to be smart and decisive enough to do what must be done, otherwise, I would not have invited you to join us here as an Advisor.”

“You asked me here to be a Diplomat, not to entrench my personal affairs at the heart of a historical force for peace.”

“Yes, and the Hero of Fereldan was tasked with ending a Blight and defeating an archdemon, and must now find a way to survive that which comes for all Wardens with absolution. I still expect letters from her, as she does from me. I still trust her love, as she does mine.”

“Yes, but I am not you. I am not a woman hardened by war, savvy with such matters. I have so little to share in her experience besides intelligence and compassion.”

“Do not even think of that, Josie. I have watched your eyes turn dark with tenacity as you’ve defended that which is most important to you. You may not shoot an arrow or wield a sword, or cast magic, but you are powerful and formidable beyond question. Is that why you have held back so much from this? You fear she will distance herself from you?”

“No. Yes. Maybe--Agh!” Josephine began to pace, rubbing the back of her head with anxiety.

“Maker, Josie, is there nothing you will not let get in the way?”

“It is not that I am meaning for it to happen, Leliana. Nothing would make life easier for me than to simply forget all of these intricacies and inferences and simply be at her side, simple-minded and careless. You must understand that I am configuring with both my nerves as an Ambassador and as a woman who is unfamiliar with such fervent feelings.”

“I see.” Leliana stood by her side, her face softening with compassion.

“Yes. So, forgive me of your heroic tales of love on the front lines do very little to assuage me. It is not that I do not appreciate it, it is that I do not see myself in the reflection of such experiences. And...I fear that she will stop seeing me in the reflection of her own journey, her own histories. Where does that leave me, then?”

Leliana looked away, trying to avoid Josephine’s discerning stare as she compiled her thoughts. Clearly, her friend had been spinning about this to the point of emotional exhaustion. It was a wonder how she hid it so well -- well, it was Josephine. That would be an answer enough.

“Josephine,” Leliana spoke her full name now, “If you do not go for it, you will never truly know. All you will be left with is the certainty of both of you moving on, and that reflection of yours will indeed dissipate. I know you have an adoration for certainties, but, is that one you really want?”

Josephine’s chin lowered as she gazed into the void. The question was a good one, for it feeling so obvious.

“Thank you for talking me through this, Leliana. I will take care to contemplate all the information you have so generously cultivated for me.”

Dinner was awaiting them. And, after that, a certain woman would await her.

[rufousnmacska]

Goodbye and Hello - 1

I’m still bitter we didn’t get a proper manorian goodbye in Kingdom of Ash. So here’s my attempt. KoA spoilers!

Tagging @itach-i and @nestasbucket. If you’d like to be tagged in the next few parts, let me know!

fanfic master list (including the link to my fics on AO3, under the same username)

**********

Part One

I Wish...

Laughter and music filled the great hall as everyone gathered for their final night together. All the armies, all the healers, all the witches planned to leave Orynth tomorrow.

Manon stared at her plate, trying to convince herself to eat what was on it. A round of applause broke out and she looked up to see a crowd gathering at the far end of the room. A group of young witches walked past her, hurrying to join the dancing. As the clapping took on fast tempo, Manon’s attention returned to her food.

The initial burst of joy that had accompanied the tiny purple flower brought from the Wastes had dissipated over the past weeks. The reality of what it meant slowly settled like a lead weight in her chest. Seeing Ironteeth and Crochan witches looking forward to the future helped to buoy her mood sometimes. But it couldn’t erase the truth that none of them really knew what the future held in the Wastes. And it couldn’t fill the hollowness that continued to grow inside her.

Her eyes flitted across the room, never lingering very long on anyone or anything. The itch to fly was beginning to prickle under her skin. She knew Glennis watched, so Manon ate a few bites, then stood to leave, claiming she had to pack.

It wasn’t a lie exactly, as she did need to gather her things. But she also needed to get out of here. The witches at her table accepted the excuse without so much as a glance, and Manon felt a sharp pang of grief at the thought that the Thirteen would have seen right through it. Asterin would have gone along to make sure she actually did pack, Sorrel and Vesta following close behind.

As she walked through the maze of hallways, she could almost feel Asterin trailing her to the room she’d been sharing with Dorian.

Most nights she ended up in the aerie, but she usually began them here. He never stopped her going, even when she accidentally woke him. She had not mentioned the Thirteen to him, to anyone, since those moments after the final battle. He knew why she was pulled to the balcony to stare across the plain with Abraxos. He’d offered to come with her once, and when she’d hesitated, he’d kissed her forehead and said, “Just ask if you ever change your mind.”

When she opened the door, his scent wrapped around her, and she immediately set to gathering her things. This was going to be hard enough without drawing it out, she might as well get it over with. A humorless laugh escaped her as Manon better understood why Dorian had left without saying goodbye all those weeks ago.

“What’s so funny?”

She whirled to find him closing the door. She’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t noticed he’d followed her here.

“You should be back in the hall. Enjoying the celebration with your friends,” she said, ignoring his question.

His eyes bore into her, and she almost looked away. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

She went back to stuffing clothing into her bags. She didn’t want to do this. Didn’t know how to do this.

Without a word, Dorian walked over and took the shirt from her hands. Setting it aside, he gently turned her to face him. Manon didn’t think she could look at him, so she stared straight ahead, focusing on the triangle of bare skin where his collar hung open.

The pale band around his neck called to her, and she brushed her fingers along it. The sound of his heartbeat quickened and she felt the heat rise in his skin. For a moment, she considered not stopping. Considered taking him to bed to distract them both from whatever conversation he seemed intent on having tonight. And what was coming tomorrow.

But the idea seemed like a coward’s way out, and she was not a coward. Even if fear lined most of her thoughts these days.

She’d admitted her fears to him once before, and he had not judged her. There was no one else left that she trusted this much, no one she’d allow to see her this vulnerable.

As before, he knew what was wrong, at least the shape of it. But instead of confronting her, he’d been quiet and patient and... there. Always there. Nothing more, unless she’d asked.

Dropping her fingers from his neck, she took a breath and said simply, “I’m afraid.”

Dorian pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder. “Of what?” he asked, his hand stroking her back.

His touch felt so good, the pressure easing her tense muscles, and she relaxed into him. “I don’t know how to do this without them.”

The truth had been building in her for days. Confessing part of it lightened the heaviness inside her, just a little. So, she went on. “I don’t know if I ever truly believed we’d go home. Not until recently. And now. To face it without them...” She trailed off. As he squeezed her tighter, she said, “I feel so alone.”

Not once had Manon truly considered a future without all of the Thirteen. A future where they were gone and she was left to carry on. Even the prospect of being queen, a duty she’d now fully assumed, had never altered that image. If they weren’t there, she wouldn’t be either.

Dorian pulled away, steadying her with his hands on her shoulders. “You are not alone, Manon. They can never be replaced. But don’t ever think you’re alone. You have friends and family who care about you.” Moments passed in silence until finally, his voice roughened with emotion, he said, “I care about you.”

He’d said it before. But there was something in the words this time that felt different. A weight that had been lacking. The weight of a promise.

Manon slowly lifted her head to meet his gaze.

***

The dread of saying goodbye had made Dorian’s heart feel more and more fragile with each passing day. Now, he thought it might actually shatter.

It wasn’t lost on him that Manon couldn’t even say their names. No matter what mask she’d worn in front of the others, he saw the truth of what lay beneath.

The Thirteen were her family. Her entire family. And they were all gone. Glennis and her Crochan cousins might fill in that void someday, but it would take time. If it happened at all.

In a past life, Dorian would have tried distracting her with pleasurable touches or pretty words. In this life, had she been anyone else, he probably would have done just that. But Manon was not anyone.

Yet, if he spoke the words he truly wanted to say, whose mind would it ease? Likely not hers, as it would only overwhelm her. But his self control faltered as he felt the pain and sorrow emanating from her, as if his magic could sense it.

“I care about you,” he rasped. With each word, a spark of warm magic flowed from his hands into her. That spark lit something in her, making her eyes glow like flames as they met his.

“What do you want Dorian?” she asked, her voice little more than a whisper.

She’d asked that of him days ago. But this time, it was an entirely different question. The desperation to answer with the truth, with the words he’d kept from her before - You, all of you - almost won out.

Almost.

It would be too much for her right now, he reasoned, an extra burden she didn’t need to carry. Especially with their goodbye growing closer with each minute.

“I want…” he started, then stopped. If he couldn’t tell her everything, he could at least give her a glimpse into what he felt.

Dorian took her hand in his, and they both watched as his thumb glided back and forth over her fingers. “I wish we could take off on Abraxos and fly around the world,” he said. “Not as a king and queen. Just a man and a witch. No crowns, no responsibilities.”

Manon’s eyebrow quirked in mild amusement and Dorian took it as a sign to continue.

“We can go wherever we want. East to Wendlyn, or the fabled lands across the western ocean. North to the frozen wastes, then to the Southern Continent. I can visit libraries and book shops and you...” he paused, thinking.

A wry, expectant expression crossed her face and he almost laughed.

“You can visit blacksmiths for new and exotic weaponry. When we run out of money for new books and daggers, you can teach girls how to fight while I perform magic tricks and shape shifting for crowds. I will make you breakfast in bed each morning.” He gave her a knowing look. “And you can shut me up each night.”

Manon’s smiles had been given sparingly before the war, yet he’d still come to think of himself as an expert on them. The smile she rewarded him with now, the first he’d seen since they’d reunited, was soft and brief and breathtakingly beautiful.

“I asked what you want, not what you wish,” she admonished with a touch of teasing.

Without thinking, he asked, “Can’t it be both?” When she didn’t answer, he added, “I want whatever you choose to offer.”

Manon closed her eyes, all traces of her smile gone. No doubt she was remembering when she’d first spoken those words to him, on a ship just off the Eyllwe coast. It felt like lifetimes ago, but it had been little more than a few months.

Or, he realized, perhaps she was thinking of a different offer she’d made more recently, in a tent at the edge of the White Fangs. One he’d abandoned rather than answer. He knew that if he had, if he’d faced the same choice as Gavin, then the keys, the gate, this war... all of it would have ended much differently. He told himself he didn’t regret it, and perhaps he didn’t. But it haunted him nonetheless.

She said nothing, and turned away again to resume her packing.

Mentally kicking himself, he silently watched her move around the room. She didn’t have much to take with her, and he had no idea what had been done with the Thirteen’s things. It was likely that their weapons and supplies had been redistributed as the siege had dragged on.

When Manon was done, she stopped at the makeshift bed, little more than a pile of hay covered with blankets. Without looking at him, she said, “I wish we didn’t have to leave tomorrow.”

Any remaining will power he had left dissolved in that moment, and Dorian walked to her side. “I wish for that too, witchling. More than anything.” She shifted towards him and he pulled her into a hug. “Whatever happens, you will not be alone."

The embrace lasted forever and no time at all, until she broke away and took a half step back. Tentatively, not bothering to hide her shaking, she took his hand and placed it over her heart. "You will always be with me.”

Dorian smiled, amazed. He was always amazed by her.

“And you will always be with me.” He clasped her hand against his own heart, another wave of his magic pulsing into her.

***

Promise again laced his words, and the force of it settled within her chest. Just as his touch had done, the soft smile he gave her now seemed to pierce through her sadness.

Manon sat down on the bed, pulling him with her. Curled into his arms, she pressed her ear to his chest and listened to the strong, even rhythm. She’d expected a night of little rest, but instead, Dorian held her tightly, giving her occasional kisses until she fell asleep.

Waking well before the first rays of dawn, she tried not to disturb him when she rose to get dressed. Dorian’s eyes opened the instant she sat up and he watched silently as she began to strap on her sword and daggers.

“Are you planning to sleep in?” She’d meant it to sound light and joking, but it was overshadowed by the farewell they could no longer put off.

“You want me to go up to the aerie with you?” He tossed the blankets aside and stood, quickly throwing on clothes. “I thought you’d want to say goodbye here,” he offered as explanation.

I don’t want to say it at all, she thought, but said nothing.

A sharp knock on the door announced it was time, and she scanned the room once again before her eyes landed on him. “Ready?”

He opened his mouth, and for a second she thought he might actually say no. Instead, he nervously ran his fingers through his hair and nodded once. When he held his hand out for her, she didn’t hesitate.

They walked slowly to the castle’s uppermost balcony that had been serving as the wyvern aerie. Dorian’s hand was like a vise and Manon wondered whose trembling the tight grip was meant to quell.

When they reached the final door leading them outside, he stopped short and spun her around to face him. “The Ferian Gap.”

It wasn’t a question but he seemed to need an answer, so she said, “Yes.” He relaxed a bit, and she added, “I don’t know how long before I can get away."

With a tight smile, he cupped her face in his hands. “I know. We can decide on a time later. I just...” He blinked rapidly, but it didn’t lessen the bright sheen of moisture in his eyes.

Manon raised up onto her toes and kissed him. “I know,” she said into his lips. He dropped his arms around her waist and lifted her up against him. Sliding her arms around his neck, she held on as if her life depended on it. Just as he was holding her.

***

Dorian tucked her braid into the fur collar of her cloak and they walked outside to where the others were waiting. As soon as their queen appeared, shouts to prepare for flight rang through the dark, frigid air.

He stayed with her until she checked all the harnesses on Abraxos, never taking his eyes off her as she climbed up into the saddle. Every nerve in his body wanted to leap up there with her, every ounce of his magic strained to touch her. But he stepped back, just far enough to be outside the reach of Abraxos’s wings.

When she was settled and strapped in, and there were no more excuses to delay, Manon placed her hand on her heart and said, “Goodbye, princeling.”

Dorian touched his own chest and said, “Goodbye, witchling.” He forced himself to give her a lighthearted wink. “For now.”

A twitch of a smile. “For now,” she agreed.

Before he could take another breath, Abraxos was at the drop-off overlooking the city far below. His booming wings flapped once, twice, and then they were airborne. On brooms and wyverns, hundreds of witches took to the sky, a few falling into formation around their queen with the rest streaming behind.

He stayed, watching as the large host grew small on the horizon, where the first rays of morning were breaking over the mountains. The sunlight caught a shining wing that flashed silver, just for an instant. And then, it was gone.

Long after they disappeared and he could no longer stand the cold, Dorian turned and went inside.

***

Manon felt Dorian’s magic surround her and Abraxos the moment they’d taken off, and she was surprised by how long it stayed with them. Its warmth soothed them as they passed over the blast site that was the focus of their nightly vigils. When the power began to flicker, like a candle being blown out, she glanced over her shoulder, unable to make him out as anything more than a dark figure on the highest balcony.

And then, it was gone. They’d flown past the reach of his magic. The freezing air bit into her now unshielded skin and Abraxos released a melancholy whine.

A lifetime of habit had Manon twisting around in her saddle, an order for Asterin already forming on her lips. When unfamiliar witches stared back at her, she said nothing and faced forward again.

The reminder hit her as it always did, like a physical blow. Like the punch to her gut that had left her behind, and left her alone.

To be continued...

[feynites]

Howling For The Slain - Chapter 1

(submission from @fantasysdrivingforce)

CHAPTER ONE

Lungs burn, hearts race, magic crackles in the air and runs in rivets across scorched, bloody armor. Cries call and bodies fall, and lives seep out and weep into the soil below. The Inquisition is on the brink of its extinction, trying to tie southern Thedas back together in unity, but threats knocked upon their door – elves, Qunari, Tevinter, Ferelden, Orlais. All threats – all armies – battling at the gates to Skyhold – all turned on one another in an endless ocean of blood, magic, fire, and fear.

Many of the citizens of Skyhold who cannot fight travel through the fortified passageways underneath the Frostback Mountains, away from the carnage of war. The Inquisitor and his companions fight in the front lines – at his side – as does who he considers his beloved. But she does not return his affections so readily. Her heart belongs to more than one; she’s a free spirit, but she fights for the future, for a nation and world all need. Where peace is readily given, and wars need not be waged. She is a rainbow of light but a bolt of fury, switching as quickly as the sickening crack of a whip.

She cuts down enemy after enemy, her armor shifting its shade from silver to the brilliant shimmer of polished dragon’s bone. Humans, elves, Qunari, and dwarves all lay at her feet, and fresh blood drips from her armor and chainmail. Around her, her companions fight tooth and nail – Iron Bull, his war-hammer heavy in his arms and Dorian at his back, both fighting against Vint and Qunari, against saarabas and altus alike; Cassandra and…

And…

No.

Cullen lays, unmoving, at her feet. His eyes vacant and glassy, blood trickling from his lips.

Salla’s blood runs cold, and time seems to still. She sees the others struggling against the numbers of the armies. But some numbers have pulled back. The elves – the ones who ally to-

“Solas!” Her old friend, her… her…

The Dread Wolf ascends past the lines of bodies, only freezing at the call of his name. He turns, eyes cold and distant. Around the carnage, snow and ash flutter down from a dark, angry sky that spins with snaps of lightning and fire storms of booming thunder. His gaze finds hers, for the briefest of moments, before he looks away. His eyes flick down, and his lips quirk upwards. What is he…?

Alhannon, the Inquisitor, races up the hillside and at his heels are Sera and Cole. Arrows fly, and elves serge past Solas toward the Inquisitor and his company. Behind them, Qunari race up to the battlements.

Salla grits her teeth, and with a wave of her magic, pulls her helmet over her head and her weapons at the ready – her staff at her back, her sword in its sheath, and daggers in her hands. She cuts through human, dwarf, elf, Qunari – it doesn’t make a difference anymore. The color of her armor shifts again – black as night and shimmering with the blues of the angry sky overhead. And she works fast.

Energy and magic bubble and rush through her veins and spark at her gauntlets. Electricity crackles up through her bones and her eyes shimmer like rivets of liquid gold and speckles of rainbow light.

The courtyard of Skyhold is heavy in death, and amongst its troughs lays Sera, her neck twisted at an unnatural angle. Cole is howling in agony as two saarabas surround him, but Alhannon… Where is Alhannon? Where-

Familiar magic pricks against the skin underneath her leathers, chainmail, and armor. She whips around – Solas waits before the entrance to the Keep, hands clasped behind his back and head held high. Alhannon rises, his sword bared in his right hand, while his prosthetic, built by Dagna, is built onto his left. His expression is twisted with one of fury, his marks for Ghilan’nain marred by cuts and flowing blood.

He raises his sword and-

“Katara!” Salla spins and raises her blade, barely catching the Qunari sword in time as it descends over her head. Several Qunari race up and surround her with spears and swords and shield. A saarabas draws close, eyes molten and heavy with the glow of blue lyrium. His lips are sewed tightly together and cut horns heavily scarred.

Salla’s blades glisten heavily with her magic and electricity pulses along her staff. “Ashkost kata,” she says, a little of what she had learned from Iron Bull as the years passed. She always had a knack for language. But that only spurs on the Qunari further as they rush in. Salla always hated killing – always found it to be a waste – but she understands, in order for something to live – or to be made, created – something has to die. If she has to live, if she can find a way to stop Solas, then she’ll do it – she will cut them all down.

However, she doesn’t know how long she can do that – her magic isn’t infinite, and her stamina is cut down with every enemy she sunders. She strains her next blow and severs the head from a Qunari assassin before she turns for the spearmen.

A startling cry shakes the Keep, and all turn, including Salla. Alhannon is at Solas’s feet, the mage’s hand tightening around the Dalish hunter’s throat. Solas’s eyes flare and flames lick down along his arms, and even Salla can feel the heat radiating from his magic. He has gotten so strong, his magic too powerful, and Salla watches as the flames lick and envelope Alhannon. A blood-curdling cry falls from his lips as Alhannon’s flesh is burnt from his tendons and his bones are rendered to ash.

“Solas!” Salla calls again, her voice cracking and desperate. The color of her armor bleeds to gold once more, but she is distracted by the Dread Wolf looking to her, his eyes alight with power before a hand grabs her by the scruff of her neck and wrenches her backwards.

She slams against one of the broken walls of the battlements as a massive Qunari rushes her. In a flash of desperation, she pulls her sword from its sheath and buries it in the Qunari’s chest. As the horned beast grunts and grasps, magic rushes up along the lines of her armor, bleeding to her skin, down to her bones, and through to her spirit. She feels it too late – her eyes track upwards, trying for one last time to see Solas before the magic snaps like lightning shattering earth.

She is wretched forward again, in a flurry of Qunari bodies – alive and dead – as the world sinks into a void of green and blue and gold energies, like she is pulled through shards of glass and broken swords and a sea thick with blood that catches in her throat.

She can’t breathe – everything is sucked through the void of nothingness and magic pulls at her – twisting its tendrils deep past the fine threads of her armor and flaking blood off from the polished dragon bone. All is gone – everyone is gone. She can feel it, but the threat around her is alive.

The world opens up again and she hits the ground with a heavy thud – magic and fire smoking off of her back and helmet. The ground is scorched underneath her; everything is destroyed, trees blown backwards – clouds swirling with anger overhead in hues of deep crimsons and golds. It feels alive. Why does it feel alive?

It shouldn’t. It-

A blade comes down, and Salla barely has a second to process before she rolls away and jumps to her feet. Six Qunari surround her, eyes wild and frenzied. There are five Qunari mixed of assassins, warriors, and spearmen, and the sixth is a saarabas. However, the saarabas is disoriented, gripping his head and yowling in torment. Magic sparkles uncontrollably against him.

Weird – she can feel the magic at her own hands, bright and airy and unrestricted. How? Has Solas – has Solas succeeded in his plan to tear away the Veil? Has he-?

It isn’t the time for her to think about the Dread Wolf… or about Alhannon. The Inquisitor is dead; one of the people who loved her, dead. He had proposed to her more than several times, though they were never more than good friends; they were both the only survivors of their clan, and… Salla never thought of marrying him. Maybe she should’ve…

The Qunari surge forward, but Salla is ready – anger and rage heavy in her veins as she coils and snaps out like a snake, pushing and pulling elegantly through the Qunari and dragging her blades through flesh. One after another, each bleeds and clutches their bodies as their life seeps to the blackened ground underneath them. A moment later, they collapse.

The last spearman drops his weapon and stumbles backwards as Salla turns to him. But she is frenzied and hungry for this to be over – for her to gather her dead and bury those who need to be buried.

Magic sparks at her left hand and she snaps out. A tendril of magic and energy extends from her hand and wraps around the spearman’s throat like the coils of a whip. He grasps at it in fear, and with a twist of her wrist – the whip of energy ignites and burns the spearman to cinders.

And then her attention is on the saarabas. He has turned to her, shaking his head and trying to clear his disorientation. Electricity crackles against his body, overwhelming thanks to the effect of the lyrium.

She reaches back for her staff, but finds it gone. Where-?

Broken – underneath the bodies of the other Qunari. She needs to get close. But even then, it will be dangerous.

Screw it.

Calling on what stamina and mite she can still collect, she barrels into action, avoiding the obvious flail of magic from the saarabas as she draws her sword once more. As the saarabas calls upon its own spell, it swells and flashes with a brilliant light, and the Qunari rears back with a howl of surprise.

Salla takes that as her opportunity; she pushes off the ground, and grabs hold to the binds of the saarabas until she straddles it against its head and shoulders. The electricity that pulsed across its body rivets through her system and she can’t help the cry that falls from her lips as she brings down her blade through the saarabas’s skull and spine.

With a broken gasp, it twitches and collapses, its magic dying to a few popping embers. Salla, rolls away, grasping her side as she struggles to sit up on her knees. Her armor is charred and bloodied, and she raises shaking hands to pull her helmet away.

As the air hits her skin, she sucks in a breath, her golden eyes alive with shimmering waves of color. What. This…

Where is she?

The area where she’s landed is scorched, unrecognizable if it had been anything else. When she looks up, the clouds churn angrily – like a drain – red and green lightning stitching across the chaos like ripped open seems. The trees around her are warped and curled, flames licking up through the bark and leaves – but oddly, the bark does not peel and leaves do not cinder.

The magic here resonates oddly and it plucks at her skin like the thread of a needle closing a wound… or opening one. It hums, disorienting and nauseating, causing her own magic to pop into small wisps and flames along her fingers. Like the whip she summoned, unusually charged – the fire hotter, more painful, more wild. Though her technique was still the same, her magic was not.

What has Solas – Fen’Harel- done? Is this what happens when the Veil is ripped away? Where has she been transported? This isn’t Skyhold – not even close. And where are the bodies of her friends? She needs to bury them, bring them some peace in their passing. And what of the Inquisition? With the Inquisitor dead, it… they…

She still has all her limbs – ten toes, ten fingers, two eyes – her face marred with faint scars she still remembers and nothing else. But her body burns. She coughs and blood speckles her lips and armored fist.

Salla tries to rush, push herself from the ground, but her legs refuse to work as a painful tremor rocks through her, spasms of agony wrenching through several likely bruised or broken ribs. She sits in the swirling chaos, the scent of blood thick in her nose, dead bodies of Qunari surrounding her and an unnatural, magical storm swirling overhead. And finally tears find her, cleaning away burns and soot staining her cheeks.

Choking on a sob, Salla just breathes. Each is heavy and harsh, quick and shuddering – painful, like knives twisting between each of her ribs. Beyond her soft gasps, there’s the crackle of fire, the sizzle of dark electricity pulsing through the ground, and the angry call of the storm overhead. But that seems to be waning.

She may die here, Salla knows. But where, she still is unsure – until something catches her eyes from beyond the borders of destruction. Swirling shimmers of warm gold and another of bluish green. Like lights, they pause at the edges of the destruction and chaos, like there’s intelligence to them and they’re deciding whether or not to cross.

Odd, small balls of light blink in the shimmering… beings – two in the gold, and three in the cerulean – and whatever decision is in question is finally made.

Rushing forward, sailing across the burning chaos, both startle Salla back. Until she spies the shapes of them – resembling the image of spirits she knows but not quite. Brilliant, neither flickering in and out, nor churning like the flame of a tiny candle. Instead, they’re unrestricted, large, and powerful, radiating heat – especially the golden one – that seeps in her bones and sows some peace.

Are they spirits?

“Oh,” the one of warm gold says, voice reverberating like a gentle echo. It draws closer, tendrils like limbs seeking to brush up again Salla’s tear-stained cheeks. It’s warm. “You feel.”

The one of bluish green hovers close, like a snake draping across her shoulders. This one not quite as warm as its companion, but it plucks gently at her skin and armor like it’s inspecting and studying every inch of her. “I’ve never met a being like this before,” it says.

But their words are odd, yet fluid and lyrical. She recognizes a few words they speak, elven, but they speak quicker and with a different dialect Salla is unaccustomed to. However, their meanings come across oddly enough.

“What are you?” she asks in common. “Where am I?”

The lights in their heads, what are likely eyes, blink.

The serpent-like spirit presses closer, its three eyes narrowing and peering at her features. Tendrils wind down, looping around her limbs, brushing through her hair. “Oh, you do not speak the language of the People,” it deduces, and that she understands.

Does it mean the language of elven?

Closer, it draws, glimmering tendrils that resemble emeralds and sapphires brushing along her brows and edges of her eyes. “May I learn your language?” it asks. “I will offer you a trade for the knowledge of your tongue.”

Trade? Possession? No, no.

The warm gold spirit wraps its limbs around her, suddenly whispering shushing and coaxing, vibrating like a grand cat. “Knowledge, you’ve upset her,” It says.

The snaking spirit pulls briefly away, three eyes widened in concern. “I did not mean to,” it says, the air around it rippling with unease. “They’re an interesting person. Construct?”

“No,” the other says. “You can feel them as well as I. Emotion seeping below skin, but there’s something here. Their emotions flicker outside, like an object losing what power it has.” It remains warm and bright and soft.

It makes Salla think of Cole, but a sudden despair and pain tightens around her heart.

“No, no,” it speaks softly and wraps even tighter around her and the other spirit curled against Salla’s shoulders. Not that she can move or offer complaints. “We only wish to help.” It sounds just like Cole.

The other, Knowledge, hums gently.”Does the prospect of trade cause you unease?” it whispers in her ear.

“Possession does,” Salla replies, still in common.

Both spirits still.

“We will not possess you,” the golden spirit clarifies. “We do not wish for bodies, and if we did we would not take bodies already occupied.”

That… doesn’t make any sense.

“We only wish to help,” it repeats. “And the People come. Knowledge offers you the way to speak like the People, to understand, read, write and commune.”

“If sharing the knowledge of your tongue frightens you, then I will not ask it of you,” says Knowledge. “But I will gift you the language of the People if you’d allow me.”

“No possession?” Salla asks.

“No possession,” it confirms.

Should she? She knows her language, or fragments. This world, or what is left of it, has brought some oddities. But where she is, she still doesn’t know. But these spirits speak of the People like… like they’ve claimed what’s become of the world after Fen’Harel tore away the Veil.

“A-alright,” Salla concedes.

The odd snake-life spirit purrs, extending curls of limbs until it sinks beneath the lines of her armor and skin. A sudden rush drowns away the pain until all that’s left is the bite of fresh rain on the air, drying ink on freshly cut parchment, binds of leather, and beautiful songs sung on the wind.

Flags hung on aravel-like banners, dragons spiraling in the air, and a city of glass, crystal, and spiraling towers. Bookcases filled to the brim with books on top of books, vast forests of ageless trees, until finally – it all bleeds away and the pain returns.

“There,” Knowledge whispers.

“What was-” Salla gasps out in elven. With a start, she pauses and blinks, running a hand over the sweat and blood stained her face. This world, what she saw, what she tasted and smelt – how many years passed since the Veil was torn down? Did Solas toss her forward in time? Did he care enough to rip her away and place her in a safe time where she wouldn’t go mad from what he would do?

“Where am I?” she asks.

“Elvhenan,” says the spirit of gold. And suddenly it perks up, eyes of brightness widening. “The People come,” it says as it tightens its limbs like a large, curling blanket of warmth and ease. “Knowledge and I will remain close. We will help.”

Help how?

But the spirits curl closer as the earth below rumbles. The angry clouds above aren’t the source, or the odd flames and electricity that pulse around the destruction, chaos, and Qunari bodies. Magic brushes unusually up her arms, tightening the grip the spirits have on her, and her golden eyes trace along the borders of the singed battlefield.

Until something breaks past the horizon – a massive creature with fur as white as snow and eyes that remind Salla of the Fade. And behind it are horses and harts with elves upon their backs. Riding fast, at the white creature’s side, is a golden hart with incredible antlers that curl and jut, reminding Salla of a halla. And on the elegant saddle of gems and expertly stitched cloths, sits a woman that reminds Salla of the ancient Flemeth – of the woman Mythal was part of.

Draconic horns curl from the woman’s head and golden-silver hair flows down likes the waves of a gentle sea, shimmering like veins of the sun and rays of the moon. Elves, spirits, and magic follow them, unrestricted, even as they circle around the border of the field.

The air chills, and now Salla can see the white beast that paces, curling its lips up to bare its teeth. A white wolf. A massive white wolf; bigger than the harts and horses.

The elves snap back and forth, their mounts unsure how to cross into the destruction and the stench of blood and warfare.

Until the white wolf and the woman upon the golden hart do so first, magic crackling around them.

Salla’s hands scramble against the earth, fingers scratching and reaching for her discarded, bloodied sword, but the golden spirit that curls around her vibrates and tights. “Don’t,” it warns. “Please. I know you’re frightened, but a weapon will make it worse.”

How can the spirit be so sure?

“I just am,” it whispers soothingly, purring like an overgrown cat.

So Salla forgoes her act to reach for the sword, instead sitting in the middle of the deadened earth and bodies with the two spirits curled around her. And the wolf and woman come to the bloodied mess of Qunari, staring down at their mangled and twisted limbs before Fade-green eyes narrow in on Salla. Its sneer widens and the air chills, nauseating enough for Salla to breathe.

“Compassion, Knowledge, what are you doing?” the wolf asks in elven, its voice echoing on the tail end of others, a deep, silken boom that dreadfully tugs at Salla’s heart.

And her eyes widen.

“She hurts,” the gold spirit, Compassion, whispers while still clinging to her. “She needs comfort and words of encouragement.”

“It’s a construct,” the wolf snaps. “It does not feel.”

“One of Ghilan’nain’s, perhaps.” The woman with the horns clicks her tongue. “Look at the scars it wears on its face and the state of it. Probably meant to keep her projects in check.”

They’re speaking of the elven goddess like she exists, like she wasn’t trapped or dead like Salla’s legends had once painted. Is this a future where the gods came back, or people took the names of gods to honor them?

“No,” says Compassion. “She is a she, and she hurts. Maybe not in the air, but she does. Deep, in her limbs and heart.” The spirit presses to her chest, and thrums with the echo of multiple heartbeats.

“And she is not one of Ghilan’nain’s,” Knowledge adds on icily, curling around her shoulders like a grand serpent. “She is different, unique. And she speaks, so ask her what you must know.”

The woman’s eyes find Salla’s. “Are you a construct?” she asks.

“I am a person,” Salla clarifies in elven.

“But you do not feel,” the horned woman adds.

Salla blinks and tilts her head, golden eyes darting from the woman to the wolf, then back to the woman. “I do.”

Lips twitch, and the wolf huffs. “Who made you?” it asks.

“No one,” says Salla. “I was born.”

“Born a broken thing?” sneers the wolf. “Death would’ve been kinder.”

Salla flinches. She doesn’t understand why that hurts more than it should.

“I am not broken,” Salla replies, baring her own teeth, golden eyes bright. “I’ve never been.”

“Then tell us who you are,” instructs the woman. “Where you come from.”

“I… am Salladin,” she says as Compassion purrs. “And I come from” – looking up, Salla draws a hand to point toward the angry storm of funneling magic – “there.”

But that doesn’t please either the woman or wolf. “Explain,” commands the woman. “What is that?”

“I am not… entirely sure,” Salla says. “All I know is it took me from my home, ripping me from a battlefield and throwing me here.”

“The magic in the sky broke her emotions,” Compassion says. “Shattering her from feeling like we do.” Salla isn’t too sure that’s correct, but the way Compassion clings closer and closer, Salla is almost sure it’s lying for her benefit.

“You’re a warrior then,” the wolf concludes. It nudges a massive paw into one of the Qunari. “And these are what exactly? The ones you cut down? Whose words commanded you to fight and spill blood?”

“I am,” Salla confirms. “These others are Qunari, and I fought against them. I… I followed a man too young to lead, but his words never commanded me. His words and path inspired me to fight. But he’s gone now.” Lowering her head, golden eyes shut. “They’re all gone now.”

“She is alone,” Compassion adds, turning and blinking bright eyes at the woman. “Her people are dead. She is hurt, injured, and grieves for her loss.”

The horned woman and wolf glance between each other, the nauseating chill of the air sinking away and replaced by a calm aura that cools the stench of blood and pain, fear and battle.

“Can you stand?” asks the woman.

Salla nods, her fingers curling into the earth. “I… think so.”

“Then rise,” she commands.

And Salla doesn’t refuse, but it takes time. Compassion and Knowledge spill away as Salla reaches for the hilt of her sword, using it to help balance herself upon trembling legs. Her ribs scream and tense with pain and she grimaces, teeth stained lightly with blood. Steam and smoke still billow from her dulled armor, but she faces the woman and wolf when she finally rises. Compassion and Knowledge swirl around her, eager to remain close.

“Come,” bids the woman, and she rears her hart away. She snaps orders at several other elves, and they dismount from horses and harts, cautiously approaching the bodies of the Qunari.

Salla dares not refuse, not with the wolf staring her down with narrowed eyes. With the spirits of Compassion and Knowledge pressing close, Salla takes it step by step. Her legs burn and chest aches, but she hides her pain as she follows at the heels of the woman’s golden hart. Behind Salla, the wolf stalks, and a chill presses deep into the marrow of her bones.

Why does it feel like she’s about to step, completely unprepared, into a dragon’s den?

[thecrowwrites-blog]

Inquisition’s Magister: Chapter 1

This is where the oops all began. Before I start posting all these, I just want to say a big thank you to @norroendyrd for being an incredibly supportive reader and always leaving the best comments- I wouldn’t have been inspired to continue this story without your support. Also, thank you to @onthefrits for helping me bring this story back to life when I was debating the rewrite.

All right, on to the story!

"We should approach the Templars!" Cullen insisted, his usually calm demeanor beginning to falter as the argument droned on.

Leliana brought her fist down on the table. Her patience had faded long ago. "It's not safe! The reports I've been getting-"

"And the mages are any better?" he argued.

Lord Cedric Trevelyan crossed his arms and leaned his hip against the table. "We've already had a meeting with Magister Alexius. The King's Road is clear of both apostates and rogue Templars. The Hinterlands are stable, for now, and the refugees are tended to. We need to act now. We can't bicker much more."

Cullen scowled. "And what about Horsemaster Dennet? Shouldn't we focus on seeking him out first?"

"Our focus is sealing the Breach," Cassandra cut in firmly. "It will take time to prepare our new allies, be it the mages or the Templars. Other missions, such as contacting the horsemaster, can be taken care of during that time of preparation."

"I agree." Leliana took a step back from the table, folding her arms behind her back. "Our priority should be forming an alliance while we have the power and opportunity. Something about the mages does concern me. That man- Dorian Pavus, did you say?" Cedric nodded. "What he and Alexius's son told you at the chantry worries me. Rifts that control time, both a student and a son turning on Alexius, cultists called the Venatori? Not to mention there is the danger of having a hostile foreign power in Fereldan."

"It could all be a lie," the commander said, forever the voice of doubt.

Cedric scoffed. "We saw what those rifts did. Cassandra, Blackwall, and Solas all saw. And that would be too big and too many lies to be so easily crafted."

"Don't forget that Varric has crafted many tales," Cassandra reasoned, "but I can't disprove what I saw. The Herald is right to believe the man Dorian."

"I'm glad you think so!" Dorian said excitedly as he strode in, a flustered inquisition soldier following after him.

"Commander, this man says he's here to help! Is he trustworthy?"

Everyone looked to Lord Trevelyan, their unofficial leader. He looked at Dorian with his dark hair, waxed facial hair, and earnest eyes. There was nothing but sincerity in his expression, just like when he had helped them in the chantry. "He is," he told the soldier and then dismissed them. "Welcome to Haven, Dorian."

"Excited to be here!" He folded his arms and leaned against the doorway. "If you're going to face Alexius, I'm going with. He was my mentor- you're going to need me. No one knows him better." Cedric ran a hand through his mop of feathery black hair and looked at all the others. "We cannot just storm into the castle." Cullen started to join in his argument when Leliana cut them both off.

"There's a secret entrance only used by the family. I know where it is. My agents and Dorian can sneak in there and take care of the Magister's men."

"They would never make it!"

"They will if there is a distraction." The spymaster looked at the Herald, who nodded in understanding.

Cedric stuck a dagger in the board next to "Redcliffe." "Let's answer Alexius's letter. We need to find out what's happening with the mages."

***

Alexius stared at the ceiling over his bed in Arl Teagan's castle in Redcliffe, regretting every decision he had ever made in his life- marrying Livia, having Felix, sending him to the university in Orlais, not being with his family when they were attacked by hurlocks, his fight with Dorian, swearing himself to the Venatori. However, he did wish his apprentice had chosen to join him. He hated being alone in the mess he had created.

He sat up in bed as one of his men came in, their head bowed. "I am told the Inquisition has arrived, Magister Alexius. They want to negotiate for the aid of the mages. Fiona is currently speaking with them."

"The one from the Fade is there?"

"He is, sir."

Alexius ran a hand over his stubbly hair. "They are coming to the castle?"

"They are, sir. As I said, Fiona is speaking with them. They are at the castle gates."

"I will come to the main hall shortly."

The mage nodded and excused himself. Alexius sighed and stood shakily after the door had closed. His body ached in protest, and he wished he could have blamed it on his age instead of on the countless sleepless nights he had spent tending to his son just to keep him alive.

Alexius pressed his forehead to his palms and choked back the lump in his throat. Tears burned in his eyes and threatened to fall. Not too much longer... This will all be over soon... Won't it? Maker... Maker, I pray it will be...

Tired and ready to be done with it all, he left his quarters. To his surprise, his son was coming down the hall toward his room and stopped when he saw him. "Ah, Father, I wanted to speak with you before we met with the Inquisition."

The Magister felt his heart sink when his son staggered and nearly fell. Alexius quickly steadied his son. "Are you all right?" he asked worriedly.

"I'm fine, Father," Felix insisted with a sheepish smile. "I just tripped."

"Do I need to get your powders? This just happened the other day at the negotiations in the tavern, as well," he noted worriedly, keeping his hands on his son's shoulders.

Felix shook his head, chuckling lightly. "Really, Father. I'm okay. You worry too much."

"Do I?" His stomach churned as it did so often in recent months.

Felix gave his father an apologetic look. "I'm so sorry, Father. I didn't mean to cause such an interruption the other day. I know how important this is."

"It's fine, Felix. You are ill and I care about you far more than some meeting. I am just glad you collapsed within reach of someone."

"Father..." There was a pleading in his son's tone that tugged at his heart.

"Do not say it, Felix."

"Please. Don't do this," he begged quietly. Alexius didn't answer him and brushed him aside to make his way to the main hall. He tried to ignore Felix's footsteps following just behind him and instead focused on forming his plan for the so-called "Herald" and how he would get rid of him so the Elder One would save his son.

Magister Alexius walked as slowly as physically possible to the throne room. He was in no hurry to take care of his business with the so-called Herald of Andraste. In all honesty, he had nothing against the young man. From what Alexius had seen, he was just a naive boy, trying to do what he could for the world. The Elder One was the one who wanted him dead.

The inquisition was waiting for him when he entered the hall and took a seat on his stolen throne. "Agent of the Inquisition! So happy to see you again." Felix took his place standing beside him. It was all Alexius could do not to stare at him like a worried mother hen watching a sleeping chick with a fox sniffing around it. "And your associates, of course. I assume you are still after the support of my mages?"

"Your mages!? How can you say that as if you own us!" Fiona asked in despair. "We have no say in this?"

"You do," Lord Trevelyan told her before the Magister could answer. "I invite you to be a guest of the Inquisition in this negotiation." Fiona thanked the boy with a bright smile as she moved over to the inquisition's side. Alexius scowled. It wouldn't matter in a few minutes. "Magister Alexius, we left off discussing what it would take for you to lend the support of the Southern mages. The Breach needs to be sealed, and I beg you to see that. However, I understand no one wants to waste the opportunity to be benefitted. The inquisition has gathered many resources and noble favors to offer in exchange for your aid."

"I doubt either can give me what I want." Alexius stood. The Herald's eyes narrowed with a knowing look. Whether it was because of his infamous spymaster or someone who had betrayed him, Magister Alexius knew that he knew everything that the Magister had in store for their meeting. "You were a mistake! You should never have happened. The Elder One wants you gone, and I will grant his wish so that my son may live."

Felix turned to Alexius, taking several steps back from him. "Father, you can't destroy the world for me! I'm going to die- you can't change that!"

"But you do not have to die! I can change it!" he insisted feverishly and gave a sweeping gesture to the Elder One's agents under his command. "Venatori, seize the inquisition!" But even as the words left his lips, he watched as his men fell to the blades of inquisition spies. Some collapsed to the tiles with arrows in their back. To his horror, Dorian stepped out from behind one of the pillars and took his place beside the Herald. Alexius's expression twisted into a furious snarl. "No!"

"Surrender, Alexius. You're surrounded and your men are dead!"

The Magister took an amulet from his pocket, and, in one swift movement, started casting the spell to send the Herald into a place where he would have no power. "I do not need my men- I will get rid of you myself!" The amulet, a block of jade on a black leather cord, started to glow with a dark, ominous energy.

As it started to expand into a large void, Dorian dived in front of the Herald, a spell of his own at the ready. "I won't let you do this, Alexius!" he shouted, launching his spell into Alexius's as it was completed.

The ball of black and green energy enveloped Dorian and the Herald, and then it exploded into ash.

Gereon Alexius staggered back, barely catching his balance in time to keep from falling over. Felix looked at him, mortified. "Oh, Maker, Father... What have you done..."

The Magister's lower lip trembled and he stepped back. "I did what was best..."

"You have to undo it," his son snarled with a fury Alexius had never seen in him. Alexius held the amulet away from Felix, but he elbowed him aside and snatched it from his hand. He couldn't find it in himself to try and take the amulet back. "Felix, you don't know how to use the spell. How will you bring them back?"

"I can still try!" His son held the amulet in both his hands and began to repeat the incantation used to activate its enchantment. As the same rift began to form, Alexius saw the spell start to pull apart and go out of control.

"Felix, be careful," he yelled as he saw the rift burst into the same cloud as before and lunged forward to knock the amulet from his son's hands.

Felix shielded his eyes as his father's hand hit him and there was another blast of blinding green light. When it cleared, his father was gone.