#vasilixcakara

[tk-duveraun]

The Tower (Inverted) 31/?

Inquisition fic: Ancient Elf AU

Parts: 1-26 - 27 28 29 30

What Pride Has Wrought. Bad Lore Interpretations Ahoy.

Magic burst up from the ground and lit Ilena from below. She froze in place, hand outstretched toward a pylon covered in Elvhen writing. All color drained out of her face. “I didn’t mean to-”

“You idiot, you’re going to get-” Terenti choked as Vasili jerked him back by the collar of his robes.

“Don’t make it worse by touching her, stupid.”

Morrigan peeked between the twins to read the pylon herself. “Abelasan meaning the place of sorrows. You mentioned a well at Skyhold and Samson said ‘the Well of Sorrows.’ This could be of what he spoke.”

“I was reading that!” Ilena’s annoyance at Morrigan overcame her fear. “The stupid vines are in the way. ‘If you seek knowledge… Are respectful and pure…’”

“You can keep trying,” Cakara said, “or you could get out of the way and let one of the three people who can actually read it fluently try.”

“Children,” Aquila said, freezing the lot of them solid. Even Kirtida and Arlo, who hadn’t done anything, hid behind Juniper lest they draw her ire. “Ilena, you stand on the supplicants’ path. We bow our heads to no one.”

Juniper grabbed Ilena’s waist and lifted her straight up, setting her on the ground next to Morrigan. The magic faded from the tile. He herded everyone away from it, though Ilena and Morrigan kept craning their necks to look at the writing.

To spare them the strain, Kir asked, “What is the Well?”

Magic churned quietly under their feet and followed along the walls with every step Aquila walked. She ignored the Red Templars felled by Elvhen arrows and took the stairs with icy footsteps. A double door towered over even Aquila, but swung open at her approach, pulled back by magic heralding her. An explosion crashed over the soft whisper of magic. Kir had only just realized that Samson and his Red Templars had blown a hole in the floor when a wall of ice coalesced in front of them, trapping them in.

“You’re a shadow of the past, just like these temple guardians. You cannot stop me,” Samson roared. He drew his sword, as corrupted with Red Lyrium as he, and pointed it at Aquila. “Kill them all.”

Fog erupted from Aquila’s feet, making her cloak billow behind her and covering Samson’s Red Templars with hoar frost. Kir and her companions stood in the circle of Juniper’s protective magic as Arthiel strode across the hall. Some of the Templars were too far gone with Red Lyrium corruption and charged her only to find their boots frozen to the floor and hands matted with ice.

“I was chosen by Corypheus twice. First to be his general and now to be his vessel. I will bring him the Well and he will be able to walk the Fade without the Anchor your pet Inquisitor stole from him,” Samson blustered.

“I have no interest in the Well of Sorrows.” With each of Arthiel’s words, a chunk of frost shattered, sundering the armor and flesh held within. She didn’t seem to hear the screams that curdled Kir’s blood. “I came only to send a message.”

Icicles formed in the air and ended the suffering of every, last Red Templar. Samson stood alone in his walking fortress. The Red Lyrium kept Arthiel’s fog from taking hold, for the moment.

“What do you want?” Fear dripped from his voice like tears.

“It is not for you or your magister.” Arthiel’s steps echoed in the frozen silence. No one else’s did, even as Juniper escorted everyone across the hall. She touched her wall of ice and it collapsed in a thundering cascade. The hole Samson and his men had created was sealed. She ignored it and strode deeper into the temple. A second set of double doors barred the way. These did not open until she drew her sword.

Inside the chamber, Elvhen warriors, all bearing Mythal’s vallaslin, stood at attention, though none dared to aim a weapon at Arthiel. Their leader stood at the top of two curved staircases. With a puff of smoke, he vanished only to reappear, kneeling, at her feet. “Our Lady is not present, General.”

“I know.” Aquila sheathed her sword and then touched his cheek. “You may rise. What is your name?”

“Abelas.”

Aquila turned her head to the side. “I see. What is your charge?”

“To defend the Temple and the vir’abelasan. We wake only when intruders approach. Each time there are fewer and fewer of us.”

The way he stared at Aquila, leaning slightly forward, wild desperation in his eyes, only half-hidden by the monotone of his responses, pierced Kir’s heart. Something was wrong about it. Very wrong. There was no pride or duty in his stance. Not even acceptance of the burden. Kir felt a ghost of the earlier compulsion pull at her muscles. Darting her gaze around the chamber, she saw that every one of the warriors held the same stance. Their matching armor and vallaslin suddenly felt less like a uniform and more like…

“Has she come to you? Even once since the horrid Veil sapped color from the world?”

“No, General.”

A flicker of emotion crossed his face: the corners of his eyes and mouth turning down, brows coming together, lower lip trembling. It flashed across his fellows in the room like a wave at sea.

Aquila cupped both of his cheeks. “I’m so sorry.” She kissed his forehead and Mythal’s tree disappeared, dissolving like a broken spell.

Abelas coughed out a sob. Tears flooded his eyes. “Ma serannas.”

And then he, too, dissolved.

[tk-duveraun]

The Tower (Inverted) 25/?

Inquisition fic: Ancient Elf AU

Parts: 1-20 - 21 22 23 24

At the edge of the Inquisition encampment, soft music drifted amid the groans of the healing and the dying. With the help of her magic, Kirtida followed the music to Cakara’s strange bird-shaped music box. It rested on her chest and she rested on Vasili’s. Cakara was asleep: breathing even and unlabored. Vasili stroked her hair under the moonlight.

“How is she?” Kir asked.

“Fine. Already back to complaining about the food. George said the wound… It wasn’t really real.” Vasili narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “Because it was incurred and healed both in the Fade it doesn’t count. There’s no scarring; it doesn’t hurt. She’s just tired.”

“I wouldn’t… Think that’s how it works.” Kir twisted her bracelets around her wrist. “We were there physically. It wasn’t just a dream. How could it not be real?”

“George says that’s just the way it is. More importantly, how can Aquila be an elven god?”

Kir rubbed the back of her neck. “I was looking for her, actually. A soldier said they saw her and Juniper- Is he June?”

“Who?”

“You don’t- The god of crafting. How do you not know?”

Vasili rolled his eyes. “I’ve only known I’m elfblooded for a few months. It didn’t come with full knowledge of Dalish culture. And I’m certainly not going to make a deal with George for it. He hasn’t stopped being pleased with himself since I found out.” 

He squeezed Cakara’s shoulders. “Obviously he knew before this idiot told me.”

“But how could you not know? Did you really never remove your ring?” Kir sat on a box near their bedroll. The top had been cracked open and was uneven, but it was better than standing.

“Do you ever remove your bracelets?”

Kir opened her mouth, but closed it without saying. She twisted her bracelets around her wrist. “I guess not. But it’s my magic focus.”

“And the signet rings supposedly gave us access to power stored by the family. We don’t have a legacy to speak of. We should have known there was something else to it.” Vasili rubbed his cheek against the top of Cakara’s head. “For all his faults, Father is a great illusionist.” He stared past Kir at one of the torches. Muscle by muscle, his mouth pulled into a frown and a wrinkle formed between his eyebrows. “You know… He might not actually be as incompetent as we thought.”

Kir put her elbows on her knees and propped her chin on her hands. “That’s good, though, isn’t it?”

Vasili looked away from her eyes and scratched his goatee. “I… Well, perhaps. It means we treated him unfairly.”

A smile pulled at Kir’s face. “That’s what children are for.”

Vasili snorted. “You were looking for Aquila, weren’t you?”

After straightening her back, Kir nodded. “Yes. I want to know if she really is… Arthiel.”

“She only branded the Nightmare with her vallaslin. I think it’s pretty clear.”

“Vas.”

“She and Juniper took Solas out into the desert. None of them looked happy.��

“You didn’t follow them?”

Vasili pointedly looked down at Cakara in his arms before turning back to Kir. “I don’t speak Elvhen and George is insufferable when I ask him to translate.”

“I wonder what Solas has to do with anything.” Kir shoved her hands into her sash.

“He must be from the old empire, too, since they knew him before Amorgos.”

“I…” Kir remembered Juniper greeting Solas like an old friend when they first arrived at Skyhold. The memory was so clear she could see her hart’s antlers in front of her. “Oh. Oh, you’re right, aren’t you? Oh dear.”

[tk-duveraun]

The Tower (Inverted) 18/?

Inquisition fic: Ancient Elf AU

Parts: 1-14 - 15 16 17

“Kir. Kir! Come on.” Arlo grabbed her wrist and started dragging Kirtida to the gates before he’d even finished the words.

Kir dug her heels into the dirt, to the sound of her parents’ laughter. “I’m helping my family settle in. I’m the Second; it’s my responsibility to-”

“My cousin is almost here!” Arlo pointed to the sky, where a blue and purple plume of smoke was dissipating in the wind. “You have to meet her. She’s amazing.”

Kirtida’s father was a swarthy man with a bald spot on the top of his head. He removed Arlo’s hand from Kir’s wrist and then patted her on the shoulder. “It’s alright, da’len. Thanks to Aquila and Juniper, it’s gone much faster.” He looked over his shoulder at where Kir’s mother was explaining something to Aquila. He laughed. “Well, mostly. They’re so curious!”

“My responsibilities-”

“Include welcoming guests to Skyhold, do they not?” Juniper said. He winked at her father. “Your family will still be here. Come; I’m curious to see a cousin of Arlo’s.”

With a grumble, and feeling like a small child, Kir handed the tools back to her father and started after Arlo. He was bouncing with every step: a scarcely contained bottle of energy. He was a little hard to look at; his magic made his outline less-than-solid and it was working overtime with his excitement. She looked up at Juniper, but he just chuckled.

Just inside the gates, Kir grabbed the back of Arlo’s shirt. His clothing wasn’t as affected by his talent, so it mostly kept him from running out of the ground. Two wounded and bedraggled elves passed through the guard checkpoint, leading a single, limping, black horse. The taller elf had small ears and an ugly, fresh scar going from his temple down his cheek and ending on his throat. He was dirty and dragging his feet. The shorter one - a black-haired woman that Arlo embraced with a loud cry of ‘Cousin!’ - was tired and leaning most of her weight on an ironbark staff.

“Oy, Knife-ear, shut him up. It’s too early for that.” The male looked up and Kir gasped. It was Vasili, some injured doppelganger. Or the one in the tower-

Kir jumped when Juniper reached into her sash and pulled out the bronze egg. He woke the falcon with a whisper of power. “Go on, get Vasili. Drag him by the hair if you have to,” he instructed.

She watched it wing away, speechless, as the female elf complained. “Get off of me, Arlo. For the last time, we’re not cousins. Stop squeezing me; my ribs are cracked.” Was Juniper going to test which of the two was the real Vasili? How would he know? Under the dirt and the scars they were…

Identical.

Kir’s knees buckled. “Terenti Sokolov!”

He straightened and brushed his hair back in a facsimile of Vasili’s slicked-back style. “Finally! Someone in this Blighted South that recognizes true nobility when they see it!”

“But you’re dead!” The words dribbled out of Kir’s  mouth before she could stop them.

“Regretfully, no,” the other elf said. She succeeded in prying Arlo off and was holding her ribs. “Ghilenan Vaharel, Inquisitor. Second of Clan Vaharel, here to offer my, gah, services.”

“Do you need help?” Juniper asked. Without waiting for a response, he approached her with his hand already glowing with blue healing magic. He pressed it into her side and she relaxed against him for an instant before catching herself and propping herself up on her staff.

“I’m fine,” she bit out.

“Let Juniper help, Ilena! He’s the best mage in Thedas.” Arlo grabbed Terenti’s arm and dragged him over. “At least help him. Ilena’s husband needs to be fit to keep up with her.”

Ilena went red at the implication that her teacher wasn’t the best mage in Thedas, but every inch of visible skin flushed near-purple at Arlo’s last comment. “He’s my prisoner, not my husband!” The last word came out as a cracked shriek.

“You couldn’t keep a nug captive with those injuries,” Terenti drawled. He seemed resigned to being manhandled, but sighed in relief when Juniper’s magic settled over him. “Yeah, he’s not bad, I guess.”

Juniper laughed. “And here I thought it was George that made Vasili so aggressively unimpressed.”

“George? Vasili?! He’s here? Where-” Terenti was cut off by a red blur of magic that solidified into Vasili with a screeching crack of bone.

“You’re alive, you bastard!” Vasili shouted. All of his marks were glowing, reflecting red light off the bronze falcon that sat on his shoulder, grooming itself.

“Vas, I just healed him,” Juniper whined.

“Well, wait because he’s about to get a lot worse,” Vasili said, rolling up his sleeves. “Two weeks I spent thinking I’d gotten you killed, meanwhile you’re running around Thedas fucking some pathetic Dalish chit.”

Ilena shoved herself in front of Terenti, but given how aggressively she was waving her staff, it was more to fight Vasili herself than to protect him. “I am not pathetic. I am a stronger mage than-”

“What did Dawen say when you told him you got married?” Arlo asked.

Ilena screamed, “We’re not married!”

“So you’re… not having sex with him?” Arlo asked.

Ilena screamed wordlessly and dragged her horse off in the opposite direction of the stables. Kir wanted to correct her, but decided not to when she noticed the magic crackling along her staff.

Cakara jogged up and grabbed both of Vasili’s wrists before he could punch his twin again. “That’s enough, Vas. You can beat him up later. I’m sure he’ll deserve it then, too.”

Terenti rubbed his jaw as Juniper’s magic knitted the bone back together. He gestured, a movement so offended it could only be performed by a member of human nobility, at Cakara’s right hand and the silver signet ring. “So we’re all going to make fun of my knife-ear and ignore the fact that he’s actually married his.”

“Yes because there’s nothing to joke about when we admit our feelings,” Cakara snapped.

Despite her words, Vasili looked poleaxed. Kir was suddenly sure that Cakara hadn’t actually admitted her feelings until that moment. Her head spun with information and relationships and the soft feel of Juniper’s magic. She plucked her falcon off of Vasili’s shoulder, tucked it into her sash and turned back to the castle while the drama continued. She needed a nice, long bath to clear her head or she wouldn’t remember any of Josephine’s instructions for the Winter Palace.

1-16 -17 18 19 20

[tk-duveraun]

The Tower (Inverted) 22/?

Inquisition fic: Ancient Elf AU

Parts: 1-16 -17 18 19 20 21

The Fade

Rubble flew in every direction as Kirtida sealed the rift behind them. Gravity had no power over the crumbled stone in the Fade. She stood on a small piece of black Fade stone that floated perpendicular to the large, hewn path before them. Aquila was the only one who stood on the large mass. The blade of her ironbark sword glowed a light, icy blue before she stabbed it into the rock under her feet. Air and magic burst out from the puncture point and grabbed the rock formations suspended in the air and dragged them into ground near her.

When the magic and dust settled, the pommel stone in her sword was still glowing. She reached up for her helmet, but it was gone. With a sigh, Aquila pulled her braid out of her cuirass and threw it over her shoulder. “Quick thinking, Kir. Good job.”

“I… Thank you. It was just. Instinct.” Kir hopped off of her stone and felt around the larger one with her feet. She looked around at the eerie, green sky and black, floating formations. “Are we… In the Fade? Physically?”

“Yes,” Cakara said, though her voice cracked into a squeak halfway through. She had both hands on Vasili’s left arm, fingers clenched so tight it looked like her knuckles were about to pop out of her skin. Her white irises glowed with magic. Her throat bobbed with a dry swallow. “Shouldn’t George be here?”

Garrett scratched his beard, the only one as nonplussed as Aquilla. He glanced over his shoulder at Vasili and Cakara. “That’s your demon, right? Should be here. Justice was with us the last time we were in the Fade, right Varric?”

“You didn’t have to remind me,” Varric bit out through gritted teeth.

“Excuse you,” Vasili said. “I’m a maleficar. Not an abomination. George is in his own domain. Probably polishing his crown.”

“I imagine it’s an actual crown,” Aquila said. She laughed at Varric’s horrified face. “Come now. I’m sure you’ve heard worse.”

“We’ll talk about it over drinks later, eh? Hey Wings, can you open us up a way out?”

“Technically, yes, but it’s more likely the rift will open inside a wall or a soldier.” Aquila strode forward with her shield on her arm and her sword in hand, though both were lowered.

“What?!” Kir lowered her left hand and held it against her chest.

“Distances and directions are…” Cakara took a shuddering breath, as if she were cold. “Fucked in the Fade.”

Garrett prodded a rock suspended in the air with his staff. The rock wobbled and floated off. “More than just those, I’d say. Either way, if we can’t open a fresh one, that lackwit Erimond had a rift in the Great Hall.” He pointed ahead to a great distortion in the mottled sky. “Distances may be fucky, but that’s relatively close enough, I’d say.”

“We can leave nothing to chance in the Fade.” Aquila held her sword up pommel first and whispered a spell over the pommel stone. The light inside sharpened, crackling into lightning that sparked against the crystal. She blinked her eyes and they glowed even brighter than Cakara’s. Her head lolled on her neck, swaying as if her neck was boneless. The whispering stopped and she came back to herself. “Yes. That’s the one. I could see it.”

“You could see it?” Vasili asked, dragging Cakara forward. “You know a spell to see the physical world from the Fade?”

Aquila turned her head, but not enough to look at him. Her voice was clipped and cold. “I know spells for a great many things. Cakara!” Aquila commanded Cakara in elvhen, but not with any words that Kir knew.

Cakara’s daggers hissed in the Fade’s humid, choking air. One sizzled red and angry while the other left icy fog off into the air. She glanced at Vasili, but was able to stand on her own. “Yes, Elder.”

Garrett walked at Aquila’s flank, his staff loose in his right hand. Though his gait and expression were light and casual, his head tilts let him examine the terrain and search for dangers. The lackadaisical swinging of his staff boxed Kir and Varric in between the pairs of him and Aquila and Vasili and Cakara. No one had said a word; they had simply fallen into the protective formation. Fire flared on Garrett’s focusing crystal as he and Aquila turned a corner. “If Mother appears, I’m legally allowed to leave.”

Kir peeked between their armor, but didn’t recognize the old Chantry woman in front of them. Vasili and Cakara shrugged at her when Kir glanced in their direction.

“Who are you?” Aquila asked.

“I am here to help,” the image said.

“She’s appearing as the late Divine,” Garrett said.

“I don’t trust spirits that say they want to help. Spirits aren’t interested in mortals and demons aren’t interested in helping,” Cakara said.

“The kid wants to-”

Kir pushed between Aquila and Garrett and held up her hand. “You can say what you want, but we’re not making any deals, so if that’s what you’re here for, you’re wasting your time.” The vallaslin on her palms itched, but she ignored it and the magic spinning in her focusing bracelet.

“Corypheus sure has a lot of demons at his disposal,” Garrett said.

“I am not a demon,” it said. “This realm is owned by the Nightmare. How Corypheus enthralls other demons, I do not know, but the Nightmare serves willingly.”

“The Nightmare,” Aquila said, tasting the name. She repeated it in Elvhen.

“Why would it serve him?” Kir asked.

“He is one of the magisters that started the Blight, no?”

“Is he truly one of those magisters?” Aquila asked. Something about the air around her changed… It darkened or… thickened. Kir couldn’t place it. Her voice was cold when she continued. “Did they even start the Blight?”

The image of Justinia focused on Kir. “It took memories from you when you entered the Fade at the Conclave. You must retrieve them if you are to escape this place.”

“Of course it disappears without answering the pertinent questions,” Garrett said.

“It’s a spirit. Whether or not it’s infused with Justinia’s soul is irrelevant. I asked it questions outside its purview. It can only follow its purpose… Whatever that may be.” Aquila raised her shield. “Let’s proceed with caution.”

1-20 - 21 22 23 24

[tk-duveraun]

The Tower (Inverted) 19/?

Inquisition fic: Ancient Elf AU

Parts: 1-14 - 15 16 17 18

Peacock feathers glittered on an otherwise black mask. Smooth amber and obsidian stones made up dragon scales on another. Kirtida’s palms itched with the desire to stroke every mask at the Winter Palace. Some were clever renditions of animals and most were masterworks of art and design. She would have to ask Juniper to make her one once they returned to Skyhold. The bronze falcon took incredible skill to make. If he turned that to a mask-

“Oy, Kir, watch where you’re going,” Vasili said after he crashed into her. He was without his ring - might never take it back from Cakara, really, and his ears had fresh piercings that glittered with garnets set in gold. The marks on his face pulsed with weak magic and he had an embroidered eyepatch over his left eye.

“Wait, what happened to your eye?” Kir bit her tongue. Surely she would have known if he’d been injured. Yes, she’d taken a few days away from the romantic drama in her Inner Circle to chat with Sera about servants in Orlais, but she hadn’t been unreachable.

Vasili lifted the eyepatch by the threaded rose on the bottom edge. A black eye with a sickly, magical, green fire stared down at her. “George is watching.”

“He can see through the eyepatch?”

“No, I’m reneging on the deal by covering it - of course he can see through the eyepatch.”

Juniper pinched the pointed tip of Vasili’s ear. “Be nice or Aky will drag you around to search the royal wing with her and then you’ll have to listen to George complain for weeks.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“He wasn’t any less insufferable when he was Wisdom,” Juniper said. He put his hand on Kir’s shoulder. “How are you holding up? I saw your dance with the Grand Duchess.”

“I wanted to siphon all of the air out of her lungs.” Kir closed her fist over the glowing vallaslin in her left palm. “She thinks she’s so much smarter than us because she’s human.”

“Nobility is the same, no matter the race, Kir. It’ll be good to remember that when Aky and I are done.” He straightened and put his hand in the middle of her back. “Something’s happened, she’s calling us.”

“Is she in-” Kir cut herself off. The anchor in the heel of her hand buzzed. “There’s a rift.”

Vasili danced out of Juniper’s reach. “Hands off, Islander. I’m coming. George is already complaining, though.”

Juniper lead them through the palace as if he’d explored it himself. Kir was starting to suspect it was more than just their years together that made the couple so synchronized. They passed under some scaffolding and into a half-renovated courtyard where Aquila stood in the center of the grass, her sword drawn. The Grand Duchess stood on a second floor balcony and waved a white, silk fan at her neck.

“Of course, I knew the Inquisitor was just a puppet for-”

“Shut it, shem! I’m in charge here!” Kir shouted as she ran out. She stopped next to Aquila and thrust her hand at the dormant rift. It tore open with a screech of sundered air and demons spat out into the courtyard.

The crystals in Kir’s focusing bracelet flared to life. She crossed her arms at the wrist and activated the vallaslin in both palms. Wind swirled and lashed around her, launching the demons into reach of Aquila and Vasili’s swords. Behind her, Juniper chanted and spun magic that locked their human enemies in place. They pulled at their legs until their hose ripped and still their feet refused to budge. Through the dust and leaves kicked up by Kir’s magic, she saw the Grand Duchess return to the ballroom.

When Aquila shouted “Now!” Kir dropped the Wind magic and activated the spell anchored in her hand. It felt like a sharp pull on her soul to close the rift, but it didn’t hurt the way it used to. She gasped for breath and instinctively went to brush flyaway hairs out of her face, but Josephine’s own magic of Orlesian oils and shampoos was stronger than her magic and everything was in place.

“To the ballroom,” Aquila said. She kept talking as they rushed through the halls. “I have enough blackmail to bring them to their knees, but I don’t think it’s enough to fix this disaster of a country.”

“It’s not enough to save Celene?” Kir asked.

“She burned down the alienage here. We’ll discuss it with the others.”

The words echoed in Kir’s head as she revealed Florianne as the assassin. The outcry was like so much white noise in her ears. Over and over, Josephine had insisted that they needed Celene alive, that she was the only one who could rule Orlais peacefully. Peacefully! Kir wanted to laugh, wanted to cry. Of course the shems wouldn’t consider violence against elves. She didn’t pay attention to what anyone was saying until she was safely ensconced in an anteroom with Aquila, Juniper and the advisors.

Aquila shook her head and cut Leliana off. “I wouldn’t trust any of this lot to run a household, let alone half the South. Briala isn’t enough leverage, even if she were intelligent enough, it’s not so easy to throw off the shackles of servitude.”

“Be that as it may, Orlais thrown into chaos only serves Corypheus. We cannot simply appoint our own ruler,” Josephine said.

“And why not?” Juniper interjected. “We can just anchor an illusion on someone so they appear to be Celene or Gaspard. Sokolov’s ring passed scrutiny in Tevinter. No one will question it here.”

Josephine stood speechless for a moment, a hand over her heart. “That is simply-”

Aquila cut her off, though her tone was cold and even, without a hint of anger. “Speak to us of wrong and right only when your people have been burned alive in their homes, Ambassador.”

“The alienage was a tragedy, but what you are suggesting-”

“We would be justified suggesting an ‘Exalted March’ against the humans.”

Kir rubbed her temple and tugged on Juniper’s sleeve. “Do you have another pair of message sending cases?”

The others stilled to listen to the exchange. Juniper raised his eyebrows. “Yes. What did you have in mind?”

“It’ll be hard for Briala, but better Celene than Gaspard on the throne. We need to weaken the chevaliers. We give her a message case and she reports everything to us. If she can’t hold her ground, then we take more drastic steps. I hate this country, but my first responsibility is Corypheus.”

Aquila hugged Kir’s shoulders in silent agreement as she stared down the humans, daring them to protest.

“I suppose that is… acceptable.”

“And in the end, we gave you the decision, Kirtida,” Leliana said.

“Then let’s tell them how things are going to be.”

1-18 - 19 20 21 22

[tk-duveraun]

The Tower (Inverted) 12/?

Inquisition fic: Ancient Elf AU

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

The bronze falcon swooped and glided around the Herald’s Rest, far above the patrons’ heads. Kirtida followed it with her left palm, her Wind magic finally flowing properly. Cakara and Dorian watched in rapt fascination. Vasili tried to look unimpressed, but his neck kept snapping unnaturally to the side - undoubtedly his demon wanting another look. The Iron Bull split his attention between the bird and trying different knots on Arlo’s wrists. Surprising no one, Solas was absent from the display.

Without warning, the falcon changed course with a sharp dive out of Kir’s control. She grabbed her wrist with her right hand and pushed magic through her bracelets and into the Wind vallaslin, but still the bird fell. It fluttered its wings and with a quiet rustling of bronze feathers on Aquila’s shoulder. At the tavern entrance, both she and Juniper exclaimed and laughed delightedly at the falcon. It began to pick at her armor, in an attempted grooming. Aquila was scratching it between the neck feathers when she stepped up to Kir’s table.

“Sorry about that, Aquila! It’s never done that before. It’s the first time I’ve been able to make it fly since-”

“Don’t worry. I love her.” Aquila pursed her lips and the falcon pressed its beak against them in the facsimile of a kiss. “I’ve always been fond of raptors. My name is Aquila, after all.”

“So you are named after the Old Tevene word!” Dorian leaned halfway across the table and pulled on his mustache.

“It means eagle in my mother’s native language, which may well be the root of Old Tevene.” She coaxed the bird onto her hand with a mixture of nonsense-baby talk and Elvhen. She held it out to Juniper.

“If it were bigger, it’d be a perfect recreation,” Arlo said with wonder in his voice and one hand tied behind his back.

After a little more coaxing, the falcon hopped to Juniper’s hand. He scritched under the metal bird’s chin. “Actually, it’s a pygmy falcon. This is simply what size they are.”

“Saw a few of ‘em on Seheron,” The Iron Bull agreed. His tone was tight and edged with annoyance as he pulled Arlo’s free hand back into another knot.

“Falcons can be that small?” Kir leaned across the table with Dorian, her elbows planted in the wet space between cups.

“It’s more wonderful than I’d thought. And it must have some kind of internal power source for it to have flown over to Aquila,” Dorian said.

“She’s a clever little one. Knew a friend when she saw her,” Aquila said. Without fanfare, Aquila shapeshifted into a real, live replica of the bronze falcon. She screeched at it. It screeched back. Aquila flew up to Juniper’s wrist and rubbed beaks with the metal bird.

Kir gasped and clapped her hands on her cheeks. “I’ve never seen it do anything like- Oh this is amazing! Have you seen one of these before?”

Juniper chuckled and lowered his hand and both birds onto the table. “A few times, yes. There you go, little one. Dear, are you going to change back?”

Aquila screeched and beat her wings at him.

“I’ll just drink your mead when it comes, then.” He tapped her beak and she bit him before flying off the table.

Instead of transforming back into an elf, Aquila shifted into a red fox, fat with her winter coat. She hopped up onto Juniper’s lap and put both front paws on the table. Cakara shoved Dorian out of the way and patted Aquila’s fox form with both hands, rubbing the ears, smoothing the fur and scratching under the chin.

Vasili yanked her back by the back of her armor. “Have you no sense of dignity?”

“She likes it!” Cakara insisted, though the fight she gave Vasili was token at best. She laughed and bumped shoulders with him.

“Barbarian,” Vasili muttered. He reached for his cup, but discarded it on finding it was empty. He took a long pull from Cakara’s instead.

Dorian straightened his robes and sat with perfect posture. “A shapeshifter, as well? My, you’re a woman of many talents.”

Aquila licked Juniper under the chin before returning to her chair and transforming to her natural form. “I’ve been practicing magic a long time. And you’re not too bad yourself, Dorian. Necromancy was always impressive, even when magic was stronger.”

Like the peacock his family was named after, Dorian preened under the compliment.

With both hands, sans rope, on the table, Arlo asked, “So can you teach me how to do that?”

The Iron Bull sighed with his entire body. He slouched and pressed a hand over his eye. “A mage! No wonder. Damn cheating mages.”

Juniper patted him on the shoulder. “That’s the secret. He’s always using magic.” He pointed to his face and turned his finger in a circle. “His eyes are red when it’s active and yellow when it’s not. You were too busy looking at his hands and feet.”

The Iron Bull growled a curse. Across the tavern, Krem shouted, “Language, Chief!”

The table descended into laughter and much slapping of wood. Juniper scooped up the little bronze falcon before it could be knocked asunder. “Go to sleep, little one.” His hands glowed and the falcon curled up only to transform back into its original bronze egg in a flash of light.

Kir couldn’t blink and her eyes hurt with the intensity of her stare. Breathless, she said, “Even Solas didn’t know how to turn it back.”

Juniper chuckled. “Well, I hesitate to say I’m a better mage than him, but-”

Vasili interrupted his suggestive trailing off with a loud, barking laugh that startled half the tavern. “George knows you!”

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

[tk-duveraun]

The Tower (Inverted) 20/?

Inquisition fic: Ancient Elf AU

Parts: 1-14 - 15 16 17 18 19

Notes: The Warden contacts are Carver and then Elissa and Nathaniel from Humility.

Both of Thedas’ moons lit the sands in the Western Approach. The bulk of the Inquisition’s forces would be arriving at Adamant Fortress with the siege engines. Kirtida rode ahead to meet with Hawke’s Warden contacts. Leliana had taken only Varric with her when she investigated the aptly-named Ritual Tower and discovered the nature of Corypheus’ demon army.

Cakara snored against Vasili’s back. Kir had questioned why she didn’t have her own mount, but Cakara’s vague claims of still being bad at riding weren’t the real reason. Vasili made a show of scoffing at every particularly loud snore, but out of the corner of her eye, Kir caught him squeezing her wrists.

Varric rode at the back of the party, writing notes and flirting with both Scout Captain Danvers and Scout Harding. Kir thought Harding was a better match. Danvers was too surly and too poor of a shot, despite her rank. Or maybe that’s why she was captain. Better at managing than at actually scouting? It would make sense.

Only Garrett Hawke’s piebald gelding walked with Kir’s hart.

“I read Tale of the Champion - well, most of it - and the only Warden you knew was Anders. How did you end up having contacts with the Wardens?” she asked.

He scratched his beard. “Let me guess: you skipped the expedition?”

A flush warmed Kir’s cheeks. “I don’t really like caves. Especially not after falling in that mine at Haven.”

“Carver got infected by Darkspawn. Anders convinced some Marcher Wardens to Join him, but he’s a prat, my brother.” Garrett chuckled. “Once he was done with his ran training, he skeeved off to work for Commander Cousland.”

Kir’s eyes went wide and she had to rub out the advantageous sand. “The Hero of Ferelden?”

“The one and only.” He laughed from the pit of his belly, waking Cakara for a moment. “Unfortunately for him, she’s an even bigger hardass than Stroud. Drags him around by the ear the way Beth used to.” He leaned back in his saddle and looked up at the moons. “They’re good for him. I can’t imagine Carver as a sailor.”

“You aren’t worried about losing him to Corypheus?” Kir bit her lip, thinking about her clan and how they refused to sit in Skyhold and tend refugees when they could help with scouting and fighting.

“There’s no power in here, the Fade or the Void that could take over that kid. Or if they did, he’d complain so much they begged for freedom from him within a day.”

Even in the low light of the moons, Kir could see the worry pulling at the edges of Garrett’s mouth and creasing his forehead. She pretended not to and forced out a laugh. “I’m surprised the Commander puts up with him. Leliana said she abandoned her responsibilities as soon as she could.”

“Abandoned is such a harsh word. She recruits. I mean, she must have sent back five whole candidates in the last ten years.” Garrett looked over at her and grinned. “Nah, I think she and her husband like having Ferelden company to bitch about Orlais with. They make ‘im wash the mabari and paint the kaddis.”

“Kaddis?”

“The special war paint mabari wear. I think it’s poisonous. Not as much as vitaar, of course, that wouldn’t be good for the dogs, but, you know, enough you want the freshie to handle it.”

“They sound like an interesting group. I wish we’d met under better circumstances.”

“Story of my life, Inquisitor.”

1-18 - 19 20 21 22

[tk-duveraun]

The Tower (Inverted) 27/?

Inquisition fic: Ancient Elf AU

Parts: 1-22 - 23 24 25 26

Notes: Demands of Qun

“I haven’t reported about your rather… extensive history, ma’am.”

Kirtida glanced over her shoulder at Aquila, but her lips were quirked in a smile and she had an eyebrow raised. Something about the hazy mist on the Storm Coast made Aquila’s hair shine red in the sunlight.

“And why not?”

“You don’t sound surprised,” The Iron Bull said.

“Little surprises me anymore, but continue.” Aquila shared a glance with Juniper and they touched hands.

“A elven goddess running around Thedas changes things. A lot of things. It’s information you can’t trust to paper.”

“Of course.”

The conversation unsettled Kirtida. The Iron Bull and Aquila both spoke with so many layers it was impossible for her to understand what they really meant. Aquila thought he had another reason for withholding the report, but despite the obvious implication, he didn’t refute the challenge. The potential alliance with the Qun had caught him flat-footed, even if Kir had no intention of agreeing. She’d stop the Red Lyrium shipment, but that would be the end of it.

They climbed to the top of the hill and The Iron Bull looked around. His gaze paused a few times, seeing things significant only to him. “All right, our Qunari contact should be here to meet us.”

An elf with Dalish-style armor walked into view. “He is. Good to see you again, Hissrad.”

Kir didn’t like him. Something about the tension in his jaw and the set in his shoulders raised her defenses. He reminded her of the surly, old Keepers that would spit in their fervor to correct her about Arthiel.

“Gatt! Last I heard, you were still in Seheron!”

“They finally decided I’d calmed down enough to go back out into the world,” Gatt replied. His words did nothing to change Kir’s initial impression. At this distance, she could see that though his armor and weapons were Dalish in design, the materials were wrong. Just slightly the wrong colors. It had to be intentional: some psychological trick to unbalance the Dalish and make them question their own thoughts while the Qunari did and took what they wanted.

The Iron Bull didn’t hesitate before introducing Kir, or even glance at Aquila, not that she had expected to give away something so blatantly. “Boss, this is Gatt. We worked together in Seheron.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Inquisitor. Hissrad’s reports say you’re doing good work.”

Kir nodded. “I’m doing only what I can.”

Gatt made a sound of agreement, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “We’re in it together now. The Tevinter Imperium is bad enough without the influence of this Venatori cult. If this new form of lyrium helps them seize power in Tevinter, the war with Qunanadar could get worse.”

The hair on the back of Kir’s neck stood on end. The Qun didn’t consider the fighting with Tevinter a war. The Iron Bull had made it clear it was a petty squabble, at most. She’d trusted Aquila’s warnings, but Kir hadn’t thought she’d be able to see through the subterfuge herself.

“With this stuff, the Vints could make their slaves into an army of magical freaks. We could lose Seheron… and see a giant Tevinter army come marching back down here.”

Kir looked at Aquila as The Iron Bull spoke, trying to gauge her reaction to him taking the bait, but Aquila and Juniper’s faces were bored. They spoke elvhen with a thick Amorgan dialect and gestured between each other, as if not even listening. Her anxiety increased as Gatt explained the plan. It was such an obvious setup, but The Iron Bull didn’t call it out. Was he so deep in denial? Was it because he thought Gatt was a friend? He called Gatt by a nickname, but the familiarity wasn’t returned. It made her heart hurt. She balled her hands into fists when The Iron Bull said that he’d never liked covering dreadnaught runs. Could the operation be any more designed to test him?

“It’ll be fine, Kir,” Aquila said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

She tried to let the words reassure her as Gatt pointed out that the Chargers had the ‘easier’ target. The target with an imminent ambush, more like. Her eyes stung. She liked Krem and Dalish and, and all of them. And if Aquila was right? The betrayal would hurt The Iron Bull. She hadn’t had an opinion on the Qun before, but now she hated them.

The Venatori forces fell easily, even though Aquila and Juniper fought with only the smallest fraction of their power. Kir left her own magic swirling in the air to keep from screaming as Gatt signalled the dreadnaught. Only one volley hit the smugglers’ ship before the Venatori ambush appeared, weapons drawn on the Chargers.

“Crap,” The Iron Bull said. Desperation pulled at his eye and he touched his eyepatch before turning to Aquila. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

She patted him on the shoulder and then stepped up to the edge of the cliff. She drew her sword and pointed the blade at the ambush. Daggers of ice formed in the air before piercing the Venatori. They slumped in place: dead instantly.

“What?!” Gatt screamed, his voice cracking on the word. He cursed in the Qunari language.

Without a word, Aquila turned her sword to the ships. Icebergs shot out of the water, piercing the hulls and tearing both ships in half. The surface of the water froze around them and shot outward in every direction, sealing off any hope of escape. Then, she turned to Gatt, grabbed him by the collar and held him over the cliff. “Bull is my son now, little backstabber. Run to your masters and slobber at their feet to tell them that he failed your loyalty test.”

“What kind of baas-saarebas are you?!”

Aquila’s hand glowed red with magic that spread to encompass Gatt’s face. He screamed, but she was unmoved. “I am the inspiration behind every call to freedom. I am what the Qun fears most: creativity incarnate. It is only out of Bulls affection for you that that creativity doesn’t sunder your flesh from your bones in ways you cannot imagine, chained as your mind is. You won’t remember what I’ve done here. You will remember only that Bull is no longer one of yours… And this fear.”

She threw him to the side like a ragdoll. Aquila turned her head slightly.

“The others remember nothing, as well.”

Kir jumped at Juniper’s words. The his eyes glowed with the same purple light as his magical focus. She glanced at Bull; he had paled until his skin looked like Cakara’s and his cheek was wet. His hands shook as he hung his axe in the harness on his back.

“... Thank you, ma’am.”

Aquila pulled on his shoulders until he leaned down enough for her to hug. “You’re welcome, dear. You deserve better than that. Hopefully the Qun’s reaction to this brings your friend to his senses.”

With stiff, mechanical movements, The Iron Bull closed his eye and returned the hug.

[tk-duveraun]

The Tower (Inverted) 29/?

Inquisition fic: Ancient Elf AU

Parts: 1-24 - 25 26 27 28

The closer they came to the Temple of Mythal, the more magic choked the air. Kirtida had wondered how such a lush forest could exist so far South, but it seemed Mythal’s magic lingered. It slurped across her skin like honey, the feeling lingering even when she passed through the ghost of it. She glanced around her companions, but only Ilena showed any unease and hers manifested very differently. Kir tugged on Juniper’s sleeve, but before she could say anything, he spoke first.

“Oh. I see. I should have known. We’ll have to address it later.” He put the heel of his palm on her forehead and a white shimmer of magic skipped down her, taking the itchy, wet feeling of the magic with it. He crossed through the group and reached for Ilena, but she dodged away and blocked his hand with her staff.

“I’m fine.”

“You flinch at the breeze, Ghilenan. Either you let me ward you or you return and wait with the Inquisition’s forces.”

She flinched at the use of her full name. Ilena bared her teeth at Juniper, but lowered her staff. She squeezed her eyes tight against the wash of protective magic and then shoved Terenti to walk between her and Juniper.

Kir turned to Cakara and tripped over a root. Cakara was glowing like Luna on a full moon and seemed completely unaware as she glanced around the woods. Even her wooden bo staff glittered with latent magic that spilled from her hands. She turned and noticed Kir’s wide eyes. She lifted one of her arms and shrugged. “This? There’s a lot of magic in the air.”

“I can feel it,” Kir said. “Does that… Happen a lot?”

“Every time I go up on the Mirror Plateau back home. It’s not a big deal. Even after the Cataclysm, magic isn’t as rare or special as these Southern humans want to believe.”

Kir would have questioned her more, but Aquila chuckled. Aquila was… was Arthiel. A circlet of gold and silver wound in and out of her hair. The device on her shield was replaced with a raptor in dive clashing with a stylized fox, magic exploding from where they met. Her cloak was light blue and dropped snowflakes in her wake. Translucent, blue, Amorgan glass gilded her armor. Just looking at Aquila made Kir’s vallaslin feel like her mother’s touch just before sleep.

Aquila held up her right hand in a fist. “Something’s not right here.”

“We are nearly upon the Temple of Mythal,” Morrigan said. Juniper had made her learn the human’s name, saying that she had to be polite, even to idiots.

“Yeah, we can tell,” Terenti drawled.

“Not now, children,” Aquila said. The silence following her words broke with a Red Templar flying out of the trees to crash into the river ford. Arrows sprouted from his chest and an elf in strange, clinging armor dashed out of the trees to slit the downed Templar’s throat. The elf returned to the trees with a flash. “This shouldn’t be.”

As one, she and Juniper walked at twice their earlier pace. The magical focus in his staff glowed with such a bright, orange light that it tinted his robes. “Forget Corypheus, we need to know how this is possible.”

Kir could barely keep pace. “What’s going on? What’s so upsetting about that elf?”

They broke into the trees and into a second glade. In every direction, Red Templars made combat with elves in the same, strange armor as the first. All bore Mythal’s vallaslin and weapons that glittered with magic. An elf finished off a Red Templar and sprinted towards them. Magic swirled in Kir’s palms, ready to defend, but Juniper stopped her with a dispel and hand on her arm. He shook his head. “Brace yourself, little one.”

Aquila drew her sword, enchantments and magic swirling along the blade. It crashed against her shield and rang like a thousand Chantry bells. She threw her arms to either side and arched her neck in a wordless shout, but the sound that came from her mouth was a falcon’s hunting cry.

The vallaslin on Kir’s forehead and cheeks burned and pulled at her entire body. Her feet lifted of their own accord and she shambled toward Aquila like the undead at Crestwood. With a groan, she fell to her knees as the compulsion faded. “What’s going on?”

Juniper knelt and held her shoulders, but didn’t answer. He watched the elf that had been running toward them, now frozen mid-step. The muscles in his face bulged as he fought Aquila’s magic, making his eyes wild.

Aquila spoke in elvhen, words like icicles falling from a roof’s edge.

“It’s beneath me to look at you,” Cakara translated in a whisper. She swallowed visibly. “Be gone or be dust. I care for your master only.”

The elf fell to the ground, body contorting as he tried to sprint away before making contact. His gait stuttered and skipped.

Kir bit her lip and used Juniper’s help to get to her feet. “What is this?”

Aquila sheathed her sword. She looked ten feet tall. “These…” She hesitated, thinking, but in the end did not choose a word for the elves they saw. “These could not exist if Mythal was dead. The Cataclysm, everything, was caused by her murder. If she lives now? Unsealed? While our People suffer day and night? Much is wrong in Thedas.”

[tk-duveraun]

The Tower (Inverted) 14/?

Inquisition fic: Ancient Elf AU

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Notes: check out this art of vasili. go do it. i’ll wait.

Warnings: Off-screen character death, grief.

Skyhold’s disrepair pulled Kirtida’s heart the rest of the way out of her stomach and through the broken flagstones. She hadn’t known that the wing housing Vasili and Cakara’s room was missing a chunk of wall and most of the roof. A path had been cleared in the hallway, but only one of the half-rotted doors had been replaced. With the way the wind swept through the hole and pierced Kir’s clothes made it clear why. Their door was warm to the touch when she knocked.

“Come in.”

They sat together on the bed with their backs against the ornate headboard. Cakara wore a dark-blue nightgown so loose in the shoulders it had to belong to Vasili. Her eyes were locked on a glass music box in the shape of a strange bird that she held in her lap. Next to her, Vasili wore simple trousers and a shirt the same color as the nightgown, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off the marks from his blood pact. He examined a fancy metal cylinder; it had fine gold and silver filigree in the shape of wings and gusts of wind. Cakara’s communication case. Maybe if Vasili had one of his own…

Kir’s lip trembled. She took a deep breath. “Leliana just received a report from one of her agents in the Venatori.”

“New mission?” Vasili asked without looking.

“No, it’s-” Kir sighed and sat down on the edge of their bed. She took the case out of Vasili’s hands and set it next to him. “They know you work for me and either don’t know or don’t care that you’re a twin. They-” She swallowed and her eyes burned. “They killed your brother. I’m sorry.”

Vasili paled until his skin was the same color as Cakara’s. She’d dropped her music box, the cheery melody muffled by the thick, fur blanket. She took Vasili’s hand in both of hers. Vasili shook his head. “What? No. No, they can’t have. Fear would have- Did he- When?”

The erratic flashing of magic on his skin made Kir want to cry. “Two weeks ago.”

“How?” The word came out as hollow and rough as when George spoke through his mouth.

“End of a skirmish they just… Stabbed him in the back. Left him in the same ditch as the Orlesians. Leliana’s trying to find… I’m so sorry.”

“I…” Vasili blinked, noticing the tears streaming from his eyes. He brushed them away with the heel of his hand. “Teren can’t- That bastard can’t be gone. Who’s going to- He’s all I-”

“I’m sorry.”

Kir made eye contact with Cakara, who nodded before pulling Vasili onto her lap. She stroked his hair and murmured to him in Elvhen. Vasili kept shaking his head and stuttering denials, even as he pressed his face into her shoulder. His arms shook and his hands fisted in her nightgown.

Biting her bottom lip nearly to bleeding, Kir stood and went to their door. “A page will bring your meals up. Leliana will keep you updated on the… The search. I’m so sorry.”

The finality of closing the door broke her. Kir fell to her knees and bit the heel of her hand to muffle her sobs. Vasili’s howl of grief was guttural and pierced the door as if it weren’t there. It made her cry harder. She hadn’t even met Terenti Sokolov. Everything Vasili had ever said had been an insult and Leliana’s reports said he had the murder coming, but she still felt like Corypheus had reached inside her and stolen something critically important. People had died at Haven. She’d witnessed that Chantry man’s last moments herself and hadn’t felt even a sliver of grief.

But the death of a cruel, Tevinter blood mage, a magister, made her want to go home and curl up in her father’s lap and sleep until it didn’t hurt anymore. She’d mourned people in Clan Lavellan, but they were friends, extended family. Maybe, maybe- Her body shook and she bit down a wail. Maybe this was the cost of friendship. She bled when they bled.

The heat from Vasili’s enchanted door wasn’t enough to hold back the cold forever. Wind bit into the wetness on Kir’s face when she stood. On the other side of the wood, his grief had eased, vocally at least. She could hear Cakara’s music box playing again, only rarely interrupted by choked sobs. Her hand lingered on the door. She tried to memorize the feel of his magic. Maybe if they could connect more, she could cheer him up a little… Later, when the worst had passed.

Lips trembling, Kir started the long walk back to her own quarters.

1 - 13 14 15

[tk-duveraun]

The Tower (Inverted) 28/?

Inquisition fic: Ancient Elf AU

Parts: 1-22 - 23 24 25 26 27

Josephine and Cullen shifted their weight from foot to foot and struggled to look directly at Aquila or Juniper. Leliana was only betrayed by the tense muscles around her eyes and the twitch in her jaw. The humans had been nervous about Aquila and Juniper’s plans to free the People from oppression, but whispers from Adamant were nothing compared to spies seeing Aquila’s magic with their own eyes. Cullen knew Kirtida had never been fond of him and was the most anxious of all. There was a tremble in his voice when he spoke. “Corypheus has moved all of his forces South to the Arbor Wilds.”

Leliana nodded. “He��s been searching elven ruins since Haven, but what he hopes to find, we do not know.”

“Which should surprise no one,” the twiggy, black-haired, shem mage whose name Kir couldn’t remember said. “Fortunately, I can assist.”

Aquila and Juniper didn’t share a glance; instead, they touched hands under the table. Both wore polite expressions with a neutral set to their mouths and no creases in their brows. Kir envied the control. She’d already rolled her eyes three times. She cleared her throat. “I’m listening.”

“What Corypheus seeks in the forest is as ancient as it is dangerous.”

Kir was proud of herself for not tapping her foot. “Which is?”

“‘Tis best if I show you.”

Either the mage missed the exasperated sigh, or she didn’t care. Kir looked over her shoulder when Juniper put a comforting hand on her back and gave him a wane smile. He made himself go cross-eyed and pursed his lips like a fish. Stifling a giggle, Kir followed the human mage into a storeroom.

“An Eluvian,” Aquila said, the words falling hollow and flat onto the stone floor.

The mage jerked back and stared at Aquila and Juniper, as if seeing them for the first time. Her eyes went up and down their armor and uncertainty pulled at the corners of her mouth.

Juniper ran a hand down the gilded frame. Bronze magic arced from his hand to the frame. He wrinkled his nose. “It’s a simple one. Destination can’t be changed.”

“Let me guess,” Aquila said, “It goes to the Way Space.”

“Way Space?” Juniper asked.

“How would you translate it, then?”

“Way point-”

“It’s not exactly a point, is it?”

“You know of the Crossroads?” The human interrupted.

Kir choked back another laugh at Aquila and Juniper’s expressions. She’d made the same one herself many times around humans. It spoke directly to her soul. ‘That’s a good idea, but I don’t like you, so I don’t like it.’

“We are familiar with the place that lies beyond, yes,” Aquila said. “Are you suggesting that Corypheus wants… an Eluvian?” She raised both eyebrows and looked down her nose.

“Yes.” The human straightened her back and walked up to the Eluvian. “The space between the Crossroads and the Fade is narrower than from the mortal world.”

“If all he wants is entry to the Fade, he can simply walk in through any of the rifts scattered across the South. And at the Winter Palace that Grand Duchess said he placed the rift in the courtyard. If he can make a rift whenever he pleases, why bother with an Eluvian?”

“I… Do not know. But one lays in the Arbor Wilds, untouched in a Temple of Mythal. The defenses proved too perilous for me alone to traverse.”

Aquila tapped her bottom lip. “If I recall correctly, that one can be redirected, but it wasn’t made with Amorgan glass, so he wouldn’t be able to channel raw Fade through it.” She frowned and stared at the Eluvian without seeing it. “I suppose he might think the Well is useful. I can’t remember anything else of note in that temple.”

“You have… Been to the Temple of Mythal?”

“I’ve been a lot of places, shemlen.”

[tk-duveraun]

The Tower (Inverted) 17/?

Inquisition fic: Ancient Elf AU

Parts: 1 - 13 14 15 16

Notes: Apologies for the short scene; we’ll meet Ilena next, so that should make up for it.

Words died in Kirtida’s throat. The heavy, silver ring burned against the vallaslin on her palm. She should have expected this; she had the ring, so the illusions couldn’t still be hiding Vasili’s elf-blood, but seeing it still brought back memories of the False Future. She saw a flicker of green fire in his blue eyes before squeezing her own shut. When she opened her eyes, Vasili’s ears were still pointed, but his Tevinter finery was still fine and Cakara sat next to him without a hint of red outside her armor. Though her own plate was full, she picked off of his. He snatched every other bite from her fingers, grumbling about how she was a barbarian, but Kir saw through the gambit. He probably hadn’t been eating.

“You’re, erm, not looking very human today,” Kir said. She rubbed the back of her neck and fought down the nervous chuckle.

Without looking, Vasili stopped Cakara’s wrist halfway to her mouth. He stared Kir down. “I see him in every reflection.” He ate the berry from Cakara’s fingers and released her.

“I- Oh. That… explains it, then.” She swallowed and held out her hand, displaying his signet ring on her open palm. “I- That is, Arlo found it in the men’s baths.”

Vasili swatted Cakara’s hand away from his plate and turned away from her, taking it with him. He had no interest in the Sokolov ring. “Eat your own food, you Void-begotten heathen.”

Her hand started to tremble, so Kir took a deep breath. “I’m not asking you to wear it, but one day you might want every memory of your family you can get.”

“What do you know of losing family?” Vasili snarled. The marks on his right hand flashed to life and a moment later the ones on his face followed suit.

“Don’t alienate me just because you’re hurting. We all have things left to lose. Save your anger for Corypheus and the Venatori. If you stop being an ass, I’ll give you your revenge.” Blood rushed in Kir’s ears. She had only scolded children before, never a peer and never one that could tear her limb from limb. But she felt no fear. Not just because George liked her too much to allow Vasili to kill her. For the first time, she felt confident. Like Inquisitor was more than just a title in a silly Orlesian shem game. Standing up to Josephine had shifted something. Vasili huffed and shoved an entire bread roll in his mouth so he wouldn’t have to answer.

Rolling her eyes, Cakara reached out and plucked the ring from Kir’s palm. She examined it before slipping it onto her right index finger. It fit without slipping. “I’ll keep it safe for him.”

Kir didn’t hear her over the second rush of memories from the False Future. George-as-Vasili hadn’t had the illusions and Cakara had had a silver ring. Kir couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed earlier. The signs were everywhere. Vasili had even said it himself: he loved Cakara. At the end of the world, he’d given her the only physical piece of memory he had. Kir blinked back tears and coughed to cover her emotions.

“Right. Thank you, Cakara. I need to, um, meet with Cullen. Clan should arrive any day now and I need to make sure they’re given enough space for the aravels and… stuff.” Kir bit her lip and shifted her weight from foot to foot, ready to dash off.

Cakara shoved Vasili to the side and stood up. “I’m coming with you! I want to learn all about aravels and what kinds of resources the Dalish need. This is what I came here for. He can sulk by himself if he wants.”

1-16 -17 18 19 20

[tk-duveraun]

The Tower (Inverted) 23/?

Inquisition fic: Ancient Elf AU

Parts: 1-18 - 19 20 21 22

The Fade

“If that spirit really wanted to help, why couldn’t it tell us more? I don’t understand.” Kirtida asked. Though the ground appeared to be stone, it squished and slorped around her feet. She spun Wind magic through her focusing crystals, but it did nothing to harden the ground.

“Demons know only as much as they’ve learned. Or absorbed,” Vasili said. His marks flashed, but the red glow did little to cancel out the green miasma. “George says that was Piety.”

A blast of ice magic shot from Aquila’s sword and exploded against a black, rock wall. She bared her teeth and hissed through them. “Piety. No wonder it said Tevinter started the Blight.”

Garrett raised a hand and stopped walking. “Are you saying that Tevinter didn’t?”

“Whether or not we need Kir’s memories, we must pass through this demon’s realm. We can all have a nice history lesson when we’re back in Skyhold.”

“No reason to get snippy with-”

Cakara clapped her hand over Vasili’s mouth before he could finish his sentence. “Shut up. She’s never been this angry in my entire life. I know you’re too human to see magic properly, but now is not the time for this.”

Vasili glared at her, but said nothing when she removed her hand.

“What do you say, Wings?”

Kir glanced around and everyone was staring at her. “Oh. Right. Yes, we should keep going. If we find the memories, we find them. If we don’t, it doesn’t matter. We need to get back to Adamant. The dragon-”

“Juniper can handle the dragon. Focus on us. Thoughts have power here,” Aquila said.

“The trick with the rocks when we arrived… Are you a somniari?” Hawke asked as they moved forward. No one else’s footsteps squelched the way Kir’s did.

“I imagine that word has a more specific meaning than its translation, but either way, it’s more complicated than that. Concentrate on your power and your strength. It’s only as real as you believe it to be.” Before anyone could ask for clarification, Aquila leapt at a ghoul, her sword freezing the wisps of magic solid before tearing them to shreds. Green tendrils fell to the ground where they dissipated.

Vasili charged after her, a blazing, red counterpoint to Aquila’s cold blue. Kir crossed her wrists in front of her chest, palms out, vallaslin flashing, before sweeping her arms out. Combined Wind and Force magic billowed out and swept the demons onto her friends’ blades. Cakara dashed between and around Vasili and Aquila’s swords, unaffected by Kir’s Wind or Garrett’s Lightning. Her skin glowed where the magic touched it.

Varric guarded Kir’s back as they made their way to join the melee fighters. When the last of the demon essence dissipated, the image of Justinia reappeared. The moment it opened its mouth, Aquila howled with so much magic that the guise dissolved and all that remained was a floating, white spirit. She clapped the flat of her sword against her shield and shouted in Elvhen until the spirit vanished.

“...Did she just curse June?” Kir whispered to Cakara.

“Told him to live eternally starved, parched and hearing the wails of dead babies,” Cakara replied with eyes wide. Her skin still glowed with absorbed magic that cast twisted shadows on everyone’s armor.

“Ah, we have a visitor. Some foolish little girl comes to steal the fear I kindly lifted from her shoulders. You should have thanked me and your fear where it lay… Forgotten.” The Nightmare’s voice rattled and echoed inside of Kir’s skull.

Right hand fisted and raised, Kir shouted back into the sky, “I am the Lorekeeper of Clan Lavellan. I choose what we forget!”

“Then why is it you were sent away at such a pivotal time?”

Hawke spit off the path. “I see it’s started its little game with us.”

Despair demons mixed with fearlings appeared in lieu of a verbal response. The group moved forward by inches, cutting their path with steel, magic and the occasional crossbow bolt. When they refused to bow, the Nightmare continued its taunts.

“Once again Hawke is in danger because of you, Varric. You found the Red Lyrium, you brought Hawke here…”

“Just keep talking, Smiley,” Varric replied over the twang of Bianca’s mechanisms.

“What will you do when this one leaves? Too elf for Tevinter, too Tevinter for the Dalish. All alone without a place in the world.” The Nightmare cooed the last words as if Vasili were a skittish dog.

“Bold of you to think George will let her leave,” Vasili said as he cleaved a despair demon in half lengthwise.

“And you, Hawke? Did you think you mattered? No one knows the name of your city, let alone that you failed to save it. And your little Admiral of No One is one squall away from nothingness.”

Garrett paused, Lightning in hand and put his left hand on his hip. “When Isabela hears about this, I’m going to pretend I don’t know you; is that alright?” He threw the Lightning to the ground and sizzled through the remaining demons.

Kir skirted around piles of ichor as she collected the glowing, green wisps that lingered in the area. With magic and, probably unnecessary, hand-waving she herded them toward Aquila. Without sheathing her sword, Aquila scooped the wisps up with her shield. Her lips moved, but no sound left them. The spell distorted the air and forced the wisps to coalesce into a single, blue glow.

She offered the shield to Kir. “I’ve removed the demon’s touch. The essence feels like you, but it is still your choice.”

“How do I…?”

“Just touch it.”

1-20 - 21 22 23 24

[tk-duveraun]

The Tower (Inverted) 21/?

Inquisition fic: Ancient Elf AU

Parts: 1-16 -17 18 19 20

Notes: The Warden contacts are Elissa and Nathaniel from Humility.

It was early morning, but the sun in the Western Approach baked Kirtida and her companions inside of their layers. Between his life in Tevinter and George’s magic, Vasili showed no discomfort. Always his match, Cakara with her island upbringing and supernatural regenerative abilities gesticulated without strain. Kir grew up on the Silent Plains and her clothing was designed to wick away sweat and block direct rays, but she had spent the last few years in the Free Marches and several months in Skyhold. Varric faired little better, his shirt stretched even further open than usual.

“I see the heat’s done half of Corypheus’ work for him,” Warden Commander Elissa Cousland said. In the midst of the desert, she wore full Grey Warden armor and regalia with a heavy, dark-blue tabard between her chainmail and armor plates. Her husband stood at her shoulder. Nathaniel Howe wore the bare minimum armor and a drop of sweat was making its way down his nose. It had a way to go.

“That’s not very nice, Lissy-”

“Commander.”

Garrett continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “We’re all here for the same reason.”

“To fight the Blighted magister you released,” Nathaniel said.

“Hey now, the holding spells were weakening - that’s why I got dragged into it in the first place. Corypheus would have made it out on his own.” Garrett shrugged and turn to stroke his gelding’s neck.

“In a few years when it wouldn’t have been my problem,” Elissa groused. She held out her right hand to Kirtida. “Warden Commander Elissa Cousland.”

Kir shook her hand. “Kirtida Lavellan, Second of Clan Lavellan.”

“And leader of the Inquisition,” Varric added.

“I take it Leliana accurately reported what happened at the Ritual Tower?”

“Warden Mages coerced into slaughtering their fellows to summon demons and then the summoning ritual bound them to Corypheus?”

Elissa nodded and glanced over her shoulder in the direction of Adamant Fortress. “Blighted Orlesian idiots got a little scared of the Calling and fell to their knees to pledge their loyalty to the first half-wit to offer a solution.”

“And you can’t countermand them?”

“Clarel or the magister or both has them convinced I’m an idiot dog-lord who got two kings killed before falling ass-first into stopping the Arch-demon.” Elissa sneered and spat into the sand. “As if it’s not their fault Blighted MacTir turned them away at the border.”

Kir couldn’t make sense of what Elissa was saying. The details of the Fifth Blight were hazy and Leliana had done little to clear them up, instead directing Kir to ask Maryden to sing the songs as if they were accurate accounts.

“Where’s Carver?”

“Busy,” Nathaniel said at the same time Elissa replied, “Warden business.”

Garrett narrowed his eyes and leaned in. The blood-red crystal in the head of his staff glowed. “I asked where my brother was, not for excuses.”

Elissa was unmoved by the intimidation. She met Garrett’s eyes without blinking or bowing. “Grey Warden Carver Hawke is on assignment for Warden Commander Cousland. We answer to no power in Thedas, Lord Amell.”

Garrett’s nostrils flared at the title, but before he could issue another threat Cakara stepped in front of him and put a hand on his chest.

She smiled at the Wardens. “He’s babysitting, isn’t he?”

Daggers appeared in Elissa’s hands as if by magic. “What did you just say?”

“He’s got the dogs, too, I bet. There’re sticky, little handprints on the bottom of your tabard.” She pointed to their horses. “Your saddle’s modified to carry someone in front of you and you left the dog leashes with the rest of your tack. Plus you both did the whole protective parent answer at the same time, thing. And he keeps glancing around at knee-height like he’s looking for someone.”

The Wardens relaxed by inches, but Elissa’s jaw remained firmly clenched even after she sheathed her daggers. “After your debacle in the Vinmark Mountains, Carver is particularly weak to Corypheus’ influence. I deemed it best if he returned to the Marches to look after our base of operations.”

Nathaniel put a hand on his wife’s shoulder. He sighed. “Yes, Hawke, he’s babysitting.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

“Watch your mouth or you’ll get the rest of the report with a vial of magebane in your gullet.”

1-20 - 21 22 23 24

[tk-duveraun]

The Tower (Inverted) 16/?

Inquisition fic: Ancient Elf AU

Parts: 1 - 13 14 15

Vellum and fabric samples covered Josephine’s desk. Kirtida had a pile of buttons and buckles in her lap. Her mind whirled with technical terms for different stitches and cuts. It was only early afternoon, but Kir felt as frazzled as her hair. She would have slumped against the desk in defeat if Aquila had been sitting next to her as a warm beacon of calm energy.

“Lady Meshurok,” Josephine said, “I’ve reinstalled the mirrors in the baths. Has Miss Tine, ah, settled enough that they will not be a problem?”

Aquila laughed and pushed away from the design she was modifying. “That’ll be a few years, at least, I’m afraid. But Juniper and I rigged a bath for her in that drafty tower of theirs. Your mirrors are safe.”

“Given the particular nature of her reaction, I must recommend against bringing her to the Winter Palace. The late Emperor was rather fond of his own reflection and I believe the Empress has not redecorated the salient areas.”

“I like her, but the mirrors would be the least of our concerns if I took Cakara. I made a deal with George,” Kirtida ignored Josephine’s flinch, “so I have to bring Vasili, but the two of them together would cause a scene. Which could be a nice distraction, if it was controllable, but they’re really not.”

“I always wondered what would happen when she realized there was no one on Amorgos with the same raw, chaotic energy she has. It should have occurred to me she’d just leave.” Aquila added a final line to her drawing and then flipped it around for Josephine. “Make these changes and the uniform is acceptable.”

Josephine lifted the vellum, but lowered it after a glance. “Lady Meshurok-”

“This isn’t negotiable.”

“These designs are Dalish-”

“And so is Kirtida. Is she the Inquisitor or is she your puppet?”

Kir pulled the design to herself while they argued. The plain sashes had been replaced with bands of braided leaves. The intricacy might have been an issue on their schedule, but that wasn’t what Josephine had a problem with. While she never would have suggested it herself, Kir loved the design and would hug Aquila fiercely once they left.

“The nobles will-”

“Fuck the nobles, Ambassador. Servants out-number them five to one in the royal palace. And them? Elves, all. All we need from the nobles is siege engines and I’m willing to bet Juniper and I could tear down the walls ourselves if we had to. We’re going to stop the assassination of the shem Empress and garner support. None of you in your fancy clothes like it when Sera talks, but she’s right. The support comes from the people and the people want to see an elf that doesn’t kneel.”

Josephine lowered her pen and turned to Kir. “Inquisitor?”

“Aquila’s right.” Bolstered by her own rebellion, Kir sat up straighter. “And I won’t wear shoes. You can have the tailor make some fancy bracers, but I’m not going to wear boots.”

“I will… inform the tailors.” She made a note. “One last thing. What are the… cultural limitations on your headscarf? It will be a challenge to make it work with the uniforms.”

“It’s not cultural.” Kir pulled off her scarf and shook out her hair. She needn’t have bothered; the moment it was free of the fabric, it poofed out in a great, black cloud. “It takes ages to treat it properly and my magic always makes it… like this.” She gave Josephine a little smile. “You can do whatever you’d like with it for the Winter Palace.”

A light sparked in her eyes, so Kir took that to mean she was forgiven. “I’ll choose an appropriate style for the venue. With a mask as a hindrance, we have many options.” She reached across her desk and fingered a few strands of Kir’s hair. “Yes, a very similar texture to my own. I imagine your magic would upset it. Do not worry; I know just how to handle this.”

Josephine slipped into her chair and pulled a fresh sheet of vellum onto her writing board. She wasn’t so undisciplined as to mumble to herself as she sketched, but the words may as well have shot out of her ears like steam. Kir glanced at Aquila, who smiled, winked and mouthed ‘well done.’

She’d already sketched three styles before remembering that Kir and Aquila were still there. “Ah, yes, that was all, Lady Lavellan. Unless you have anything..?”

Kir stood. “No, that was all. I’ll see you at the next war council.”

“Indeed. I will have a few options for you to choose from at that time.”

Once she was behind a closed door, Kir let the giggles escape and pulled Aquila into a tight hug. “Thank you.”

“Of course, dear one. It’s long past time Juniper and I did something about the oppression of our people. We hid away on Amorgos for too long.”

1-14 - 15 16 17

[tk-duveraun]

The Tower (Inverted) 6/?

Inquisition fic: Ancient Elf AU

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5

Warnings: Dark imagery, mildest body horror (red lyrium), grief

“You truly can’t fight at all?” Dorian asked. His robes were still dripping as they climbed the stairs out of the dungeon they’d initially found themselves in.

“I’m a scholar, not a hunter.” Kirtida’s bracelets jingled as she brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face with the back of her hand.

“I suppose I thought it was just a part of being Dalish.” Dorian swung his staff and launched a barrage of fire a guard before he could raise the alarm.

Kir swiped her right arm through the air and the guard’s body flung itself into a wall and out of their way. “Not a bad assumption to make, what with how we have to fight the shems just for the right to live on our own lands in peace.”

“Ah, yes, I suppose that was a bit insensitive, wasn’t it?” Dorian asked as he opened the door in front of them.

They were on a raised platform, though what it was raised above, Kir had no idea. Regardless, Venatori agents stood far too close to the edges, making it easy for her to push them to their deaths with her combination of Wind and Force magics. She clapped her hands together after the resounded thuds and clanks of armored bodies hitting the floor below. “A bit. Shall we continue?”

“Hopefully there are people we can free who can help us fight our way through the castle. I don’t like using fresh bodies, but-”

“You’re a blood mage, too?”

“A blood- No! I’m a necromancer! I prefer them without blood, thank you very much.” Dorian huffed and pushed his way forward down the stairs to the second section of dungeon. He might have had more to say, but he froze, holding up his left hand. “Do you hear that?”

Kir turned until her ear was pointed down the stairs. At first, she heard nothing. Then, a strangled, choked sob.

“Give him back, demon…”

“That’s Cakara!” Kir shoved past Dorian and took the remaining stairs two at a time. “Cakara! Are you-” But the word ‘alright’ died in Kir’s throat.

Cakara’s shock of thick, white hair was brittle and red as rubies turned to strings. Even her veins were red under her milk-white skin. Instead of reaching out of her cell, she pleaded with the one next to her, heedless of Dorian and Kir’s presence.

“Kirtida Lavellan. You were not alive before,” Vasili’s mouth said, though the voice wasn’t his. It was deep and hollow. The sound rang oddly, as if it were coming from the bottom of a well. Vasili’s once-fine Tevinter robes hang in tatters on his emaciated frame. His eyes were gone; green flames stared out at Kir from pits as black and empty as the night sky. If the sky hadn’t been completely swallowed by the Breach.

Kir’s stomach dropped at the thought. She stepped up to the cells. “George?”

“I searched far and wide within the Fade for you. How have you come to be here? No. I do not want to trade for that. Take my human back to Amorgos. Her Elders may be able to cure her.” George turned Vasili’s head to Cakara, who had her face pressed against the bars separating their cells. The tears on her cheeks were thin and as red as berry juice. Like her hair, her pupils were bright red. Vasili’s casual declaration seemed a thousand years old. I love her. Congratulations.

Words refused to leave Kir’s mouth. What did one say? What could one say, when faced with such pure despair and resignation paired together?

“None of this has to happen,” Dorian said. Whether because he was level-headed or because he didn’t care about Vasili and Cakara, he showed none of the cracking on his soul that Kir felt. “Alexius sent us into the future. If we can find him, I can reverse the spell.”

George took Cakara’s hand and stood, pulling her up with him. He watched Dorian unlock their cells, though his hand wiped the corrupted tears from Cakara’s face. “It will always have happened. You may be able to restore my possessions.”

“We will!” The words were like like a single stone against a waterfall, but Kir threw it against the rushing agony as if compelled. She grabbed Cakara’s free hand. “We’ll bring him back.”

Cakara nodded in slow motion, as if she were in a dream. She pulled away from Kir and George, sleeping-walking to the guard’s weapons rack. She tossed a great sword over her shoulder like it was a twig and took a halberd for herself, a heavy, silver ring clinking loud against the haft as she tested her grip. Kir dodged away from the sword, but she needn’t have bothered with how George plucked it out of the air. Vasili’s hand tightened on the hilt and the blade flared to life with a spiderwebbed pattern of enchantments.

Dorian cleared his throat. “Right then. Shall we find Alexius?”

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10