Last of Their Clan
InquisitorAllandra
Author's Notes:
Aaaah I'm so glad so many are liking Allandra's story so far! The faves, follows, and comments make me smile and keep me wanting to write more.
Whelp. I'm sure you can guess what this is. I failed my save Clan Lavellan line at the mission table :( I do wish we could have MET the Clan in game, but alas... Of course, I also wish there had been a scene that the Inquisitor, companions, and LI coulda, y'know...reacted to the news.
May or may not be a 'Chapter One'.
Inquisitor Allandra x Cullen, also contains Lyora, Allandra's sister.
They had been in a meeting when the messenger came. The large heavy oaken door creaked open slowly, and for Allandra, the sound seem like a death knell to hear ears.
The Inquisitor trailed off on whatever she was saying to Josephine in regards to a query about Lord something-or-other as Leliana strode over to the messenger. From where she stood, Allandra could tell the messenger was weary – he must have ridden hard to get here with whatever news it was he bore. By the look on Leliana's face as she looked the parchment over, it was bad indeed. To her left, she heard Cassandra make that grunting noise that declared her frustration before the Seeker briskly crossed the room to look over Leliana's shoulder.
"Leliana? Cassandra? What is it?" Josephine took the words right out of Allandra's mouth. The diplomat frowned as Allandra and Cullen shared a concerned glance. Their attention returned to the others when Leliana and Cassandra returned to the war table, the messenger nervously fidgeting over by the door.
Allandra could not shake the feeling of dread at the look in their eyes.
"Inquisitor – you may wish to sit down." Leliana began, eyes downcast, shaded further by her hood. "The news is...not good." The statement only earned a frown from the Inquisitor, even as her ears pinned back and someone dropped a weight of iron in the pit of the dalish elf's gut. Even so, she looked confused, but sat when Cullen pulled a chair up behind her, giving Allandra the lightest of touches to her shoulder. The Commander stayed put right behind her once she was settled.
Josephine came round from the far side of the table to join the rest, clipboard and quill forgotten in her usual spot.
"The messengers we sent to the Duke of Wycome to aid your clan.-"
Allandra's eyes widened, gripping the arms of the chair to keep herself seated rather than flying out of it to snatch the letter. "Did they get there? Are they safe? Leliana, what-"
Leliana slowly shook her head. "I am sorry, Inquisitor. The Duke's men – they did not make it in time. The bandits, they struck during the night. The scouts I had sent to try to move the clan were not enough to aide in the defense-"
All other sound was drowned out by a roaring in Allandra's ears. The Inquisitor fell backwards against the back of the chair, her body feeling as if it were suddenly made incapable of moving. She felt her hands begin to shake, eyes widening before clenching them shut; the sudden tang of iron on her lips told her she'd bitten through her lip. She was frozen, one thought looping through her mind.
"What – what about survivors? They couldn't -all- be dead?" Allandra choked out the words. She feared she already knew the answer, but she had to know for sure. Looking up to meet Leliana's gaze, the last embers of hope died without the woman having to say a word. Allandra let her gaze fall, unfocused eyes staring down at her hands.
My clan is gone. Dead. Butchered.
Raised voices said that Cassandra was pelting the unfortunate messenger with questions. Voices and noise started to rush back in her hearing as Allandra forced herself up on wobbly legs. She -would- stand, she had to get out of here. To closed in, the war room was to small, to many people, she couldn't breath, couldn't think; where was the clan, where was Lyora –
Everything suddenly crashed over the Inquisitor like a tidal wave. Everyone speaking – Cullen was trying to talk to her, he was standing in front of her, trying to steady her – when had he gotten there? What was he saying? So was Josephine. Josephine was crying – or trying to hide that she was crying. She couldn't tell the voices apart, everything was to loud and to much. Something sent a shock through Allandra, ripping a sudden strangled yell from the dalish.
Her anguised cry brought the room to a sudden, deafening silence. In that moment, Allandra managed to dart around Cullen, bolting past Cassandra and Leliana, and made her escape down the hall. Shouts from the advisors chased after her, the echoes fading the farther she ran.
Those left standing in the Inquisitor's wake were stunned, various degrees of sympathy and pain playing across their expressions. The poor scout was nearly in tears, practically on the floor groveling and begging the Maker's mercy. Noting the distress of her scout, Leliana gave a small nod of dismissal, and watched as he, too, fled down the hall.
Leliana pursed her lips, striding back across the room to wrap an arm around a distraught and inconsolable Josephine. "Josie, it is not your fault. You did what you could."
Josephine shook her head. "It was my job – she trusted me to make sure her clan was safe. I cannot even begin to imagine-" A sob cut her off as the antivan let her head drop onto Leliana's shoulder.
Cullen had stood frozen at the door, stuck in an impasse. Should he go after her? Would she want him there right now...? She may want to be alone. Or, likewise, she may seek out her sister. The Commander glanced over his shoulder to Cassandra, who rolled her eyes and gave a sharp wave a the door.
With a more decisive nod, more for himself than for anyone, he set a brisk pace out the door. If he knew anything about his lady Inquisitor, he knew where she liked to hide to be by herself.
Rather than flee to her room, or find Lyora, Allandra simply ran. She let her feet choose the path as tears stung her eyes not really in a mindset to consciously choose or plan a destination. Allandra ignored the looks of concern, and neither did she stop when any of the inhabitants of Skyhold her called out to her. It barely even registered that she was passing anyone, barely managing to dodge any that were in her way – like Blackwall, when she nearly stopped at the stables – but when she did look up all she saw were the faces of her clan.
The Inquisitor made her way up the long flight of steps to the ramparts, feeling both numb and hollow and a myriad of other emotions. Before she knew it, she had reached the very top – a small secluded tower walkway that wasn't always used. It was a spot that overlooked the whole of Skyhold and the valley that surrounded the keep.
The wind howled a mournful cry as the small huntress slid down to the cold, unfeeling stone of the walkway. Being so far up, the wind stung Allandra's exposed skin, tearing through her under armor like she was in nothing but her underthings. As she cried, salty tears nearly freezing once exposed to the wind, the wind cried, long and mournful. It was a dismal mirror, echoing the war going on in her head and heart just then.
Back to the outcropping of stone, Allandra twisted so she sat on her side, icy blue eyes staring without really seeing over the valley and surrounding mountains More often than not sitting up in this small secluded spot helped to clear her head and bring her peace, but not today. Today, the height and the view of the imposing mountains just enforced the feeling of being -alone-. In that moment, she well and truly felt completely alone.
The thought that she and Lyora were most likely the only living survivors of Clan Lavellan crept into her mind unwanted. It lead the thoughts of how her clan must have been overrun in the night, slain in their beds; the screaming of the children and the crying of the babes, those of the clan that had managed to try to run probably ridden down like animals-
She didn't hear the thumping of heavy boots against the stone, lost in her grief as she was. It wasn't until Cullen had settled down next to her and pulled her against him and the Inquisitor realized how cold she was against the warmth of his chest that she registered the fact that he was actually there. Around she twisted, away from the mountains and the long drop to the keep below, and curled into her lovers hold. The Commander didn't say anything, not at first, and neither did she. Together they sat there, with only the mournful wails of the wind to accompany her own crying and occasional curse – either upon herself, or her gods, or herself again. Cullen would murmur to her, try to tell her it wasn't her fault, but he wasn't even sure she heard him.
Allandra was grateful for the relative silence and the comfort Cullen offered – fingers running through her hair and down her back, chin settled at the top of her head when she tucked her face in the crook of his neck. It took quite some time before she was finally spent in crying, but the tears gave way to softer sobs and a bone-deep weariness.
Cullen tilted his head downward when she started to still, wondering if she had fallen asleep. As carefully as he could, he tried to maneuver himself to pick the small elf up – Maker, but she was tiny, it still surprised him – determining that his quarter's were closer, and would avoid the brunt of the inhabitants of Skyhold and the questions that would be sure to come if he attempted to get her to her own room.
Inquisitor successfully in his arms, the Commander started to make his way down the steps when she shifted, a delicate hand gripping the front of his overcoat with a death grip. Pausing midway down the steps, Cullen met her gaze, eyebrow raised in question. It broke a little something inside him to see her in such a state of despair, the shattered look in her eyes telling the human more than Allandra probably realized.
"I – I have to bury them, Cullen. I couldn't protect them, I wasn't there – I should ha...I should have been there. I can't-" she broke off, voice not much higher than a whisper, resting her head against his plate-covered chest again. As she spoke, Cullen was careful to make his way down the steps again, if only to get closer to his quarters so they were inside. And warm.
"I can't leave them there, broken and run down and-If they aren't buried, they won't—-Falon'din, the guide, he can't – can't lead them beyond. I have to, Cullen." He'd opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off. "Its the only thing left that I can do for them."
A small frown tugged at Cullen's lips. "Its dangerous, and-" Another glance down at her grief-stricken face stopped any further thought of protest. He bit back a sigh, gave a small nod, and started trying to figure how to best get to Wycome.
"Allandra-" You could have died with them. You would be dead now. They may have taken you hostage if they realized who you were. You – He did not want to think of what would be going on right now if she HAD been there. A dozen more possibilities immediately came to mind, and none of them he liked.
"I -have- to do this, vhenan. Please. Do not deny me this." She knit her brows together, swallowing down a new lump forming in her throat, afraid he would try to talk her out of it.
He was saved from having to answer immediately when they finally reached his quarters. Cullen thanked Andraste and the Maker both that there was no one there waiting for him with reports or the like. He helped Allandra to stand before locking the doors on either side to ensure that they remained alone.
Striding over to his desk, his coat was discarded, set to the side before sitting. Settled in, he waved the Inquisitor over to join him.
"It is a week's travel to Wycome, at the least." He said at last, again curling his arms around her once she settled into his lap. "I can have word sent ahead, and have...well. Leliana mentioned something of sending a contingent of scouts ahead to investigate. I can notify any of our remaining soldiers to prepare the bodies."
Allandra tilted her head back, staring up to meet his gaze. "Will you come with us?"
He ran a rough, callused hand through her cinnamon brown hair. Leaning forward, he planted a light kiss to her forehead. "We can leave at first light."
The Inquisitor let her shoulders slump as a long, weary sigh escaped her. Pillowing her head again against his chest, she let her eyes drift shut. "Thank you." Silence once again enveloped the pair, but this time, at least, it was more comfortable than earlier.
It occurred to Cullen he only had a vague idea of a dalish funeral – that is to say, he had no idea. The question died on his lips, however, as this time, Allandra was well and truly asleep.
He'd have to ask her later.
Ending Notes:
Keep an eye out for a possible Chapter Two!
And as always, thank you all for favoriting / following / and comments! I love comments!
