This story follows the same canon universe as my other Dragon Age Stories with Neria Surana (Veneficus, Mage and the Mother, Bloodhound) and Marian Hawke (Anathema's Anchor, Casus Belli). It follows the plotline of Dragon Age: Inquisition and contains major spoilers for all plot points, focusing on my rogue Dalish Taliah Lavellan... and Solas. Because Solas. *wistful sigh*
"No, now Varric! I have waited long enough, as has her Most Holy."
"I take what few freedoms I can, Seeker."
Cassandra huffed and held the door of the dwarf's room, waiting for him to pass through. In short time they neared the gates of Haven, when up the mountain the Temple of Sacred Ashes exploded. Heads of the faithful downslope snapped to where the green smoke and fire erupted, the keening screech as the Veil tore echoing across the slopes. In the wake of the sound came the blast, knocking Varric off his feet and flattening Cassandra on her back.
She was up before the rest, and Varric cursed where he lay on his ass, struggling to breath. In the sky above the temple was a breach that could have swallowed the town, through which the warped light of the Fade shone. It sucked at stone and ash that hung in the sky, pulling the clouds from their peaceful meander to whirl together and drain out of the heavens.
"Justinia…" Cassandra took off running. She sprinted past templars, chantry sisters, and soldiers struggling to regain their senses. "With me! We must find the Divine!"
Varric's legs kept him at the back of the pack.
On the peak, soldiers rallied through fire and ash, the air tingling in the glowing ruins. The Veil sundered before their eyes, another breach, but in this there was light. They could not look away from the golden glow, eyes watering in the brightness as the tear destabilized. Taliah Lavellan was left stumbling in its wake, a jagged, glowing mark upon her left hand. The tear burst closed with a clap, and she collapsed on the blackened rock.
It was a frantic claw up the slopes, voices raised in panic and fear. Some said the temple was gone. Some said it levelled. And some merely prayed or sobbed in the snow. Cassandra pushed it from her mind, but the was robbed of her breath as they came in sight of where the temple had been.
Soldiers emerged through the falling ash, a pair of which dragged an unconscious elven woman between them.
"Seeker… she…" one fumbled with her words.
"She came out of the Fade," the second holding the elf's arms said. "Shes' alive, just barely."
"There was a woman of light with her. It was Andraste, Seeker… Andraste sent her to us!"
"Maker's breath," Varric muttered.
"Bind her hands," Cassandra ordered. Ash marred her cheeks, eyes reddened and lips grim. The looming grief panged in her chest, anger driving her limbs and disbelief clouding her thoughts, as the soldiers bound the limp body of Lavellan.
The sky glowed green, crackling with energy and life from the Fade, filling the air with the perpetual howl and soul-pulling shrieks of the demons who found their way out.
"Search for survivors, and you – retreat to Haven with that elf!" Cassandra called, and led the rest into the ruins. They choked on the cold air, the sky roiling with clouds, sinister and thieving.
.
.
"I don't care what it takes! She is the only survivor, the only one who knows what happened. For all we know, she is the one who killed the Divine!" Cassandra loomed over the alchemist.
"I don't know what's wrong with her, Seeker." The man cringed. "I cannot wake her. She hasn't changed since we spoke yesterday. I am sorry, but I'm doing the best I can."
"Perhaps I might be of assistance." An elvhan man stood in dungeon corridor.
"Seeker Pentaghast, I tried to stop him, he… he surrendered in the town square." There was a reverend mother in his wake. "He said his name is Solas…"
"What?" Cassandra's eyes hardened when she saw his stave. "A mage."
"Yes. And I am an expert on the Fade. I may be able to help you with the Breach in the sky." His eyes turned to the unconscious woman on the dungeon floor. "And her."
There was a rumble from outside that vibrated through the stone, and the mark upon the Dalish elf's hand sparked to light, flaring with energy and seizing her body. Two strides brought him to the mat, and he took her hand in his, eyes narrowed to appraise the mark that followed her fate line. A furrow flickered on his brow. "Is she a mage?"
"I… I don't know. We have not been able to wak her since she… stepped out of the Fade."
"Fascinating," he murmured, thumb skirting the edge of the mark, the thrum within it pointed. "Who is she?"
Cassandra still hovered, and it was a moment before she said, "No one knows. I did not think the Dalish were invited to the Conclave…"
"I have never seen anything like this," Solas said. A glow in his own hand probed the edges of the Veil, and the warped scar responded with a spark. The Dalish seized again, air choking in her throat, and he stood to summon a glyph. "It's killing her."
"She cannot die!" The same steel held in Cassandra's eyes as hung from her hip. "She is the only one who knows what happened!"
"The hole in the Veil is a more dire matter. If it cannot be closed…" Solas stood up, extending the glyph that kept the Dalish rejuvenated. He knelt again, turning her face in his palm to draw back her lids and look at her unfocused eyes. The tremors were gone from her limbs, but her pallor was fading. "I fear what it may do."
"I am well aware of what may happen, what is happening. What soldiers we have already fight demons pouring from the rifts that open." Cassandra paced a few steps. "You said you are an expert on the Fade, can you close it?"
Solas still regarded the crackling mark. He shook his head slowly, before realizing the Seeker addressed him. "I do not know. But we shall see."
.
.
The world shaped into being the moment Solas was there, no grogginess, no confusion, just the familiar presence of the Fade all around him. The Breach that marred the other side loomed here too. Presences he had easily sought for years were long absent, the turmoil in the spirits palpable. The Breach was as much a threat to them as it was to the survivors in the mountains.
The presence of the unconscious Dalish elf was here though, a mild reassurance. The mark on her hand, indeed, her very being seemed to carry an echo of the same magic that tore through the Veil. Solas became a mere spectre and stepped through into her dream, where a handful of sprites were children playing. He saw the elf fresh with vallaslin, but without the scars that lay beneath, the years smoothed away. Though newly adult, she ran and played with the children, their laughter bright and so distant from the threat to her physical form.
The Dalish woman was still alive. Though no other spirits came to help, it was progress none the less. Something he could take to the Seeker; something to stave off his own frustration and anger at his futile attempts to elicit any reaction from the Breach.
A group of humans approached the Dalish, ragged and worn, obviously starving and lost. The woman corralled the children, quick elvhen words sending them to run and hide better this time. He expected her to draw a dagger and drive them off, to kill them where they stood, but no. The memory showed her calm. The humans begged for relief, and it became apparent they were fleeing the Blight. The world reshaped around her, to where she argued with her Keeper. If he stepped closer, her might hear the words, but already he felt that he had trod too far into a private moment. With a turn of hand, Solas withdrew to continue his search.
Some hours later, he woke to the prodding of Seeker Cassandra. The villagers and surviving pilgrims were battering the chantry door. He was ushered out of sight, down into the dungeon where the Dalish hunter and her guards were hid. He found a place by the prisoner's side, the same he had occupied since arriving, her hand in his lap. Through another round of prodding tests and magical channels, he tried to heal the damage the mark was causing. It continued to grow by the day. It would consume her. Like the Breach would consume them all.
But what was an elf with such vallaslin doing at the Conclave? A convert, or perhaps a mercenary. It was clear from the condition of her body she spent a great deal of time training. The mark itself… was familiar, a beacon that pulsed with energy not suited to her training. How it came to be there…
"Think she'll wake up?"
Solas saw the dwarf in his periphery, the pulse of probing mana in his hand fading. "Perhaps."
"She's lucky that you're here."
"She is."
Varric issued a heavy sigh, lingering in the shadows, his eyes down upon the pair of elves. It was a moment before he said, "Pretty noble of you to stay and take care of her. Hope it's not in vain."
Solas shook his head, relinquishing the glowing palm. "The knowledge I possess is unique against a problem that threatens the world. We shall see my fortune, I may yet be pressed under the Seeker's thumb."
"I promise, it's a delight," Varric said. "Shit, if any of us survive this, I'll honestly be surprised."
"Such optimism," Solas murmured. He closed his eyes, a pattern in his hands again to test the mark. One had used before. Attempts that proved nothing. There was a convulsion through the Dalish elf's limbs, that brought a crackle of light and pulse of energy he could taste in the back of his throat. A pulse that roused their guards to move, as it did every time. Now the light glowed brighter, half the width of her palm, tendrils infused with the powerful magic. There was hunger therein.
Solas was on his feet and down the corridor, the wary eyes of the human guards following him. He ran into Cassandra, whose eyes were heavy and dark, tension around her mouth and coiled in her shoulders.
"They have stopped for now," she said, and glanced towards the cells. "And the prisoner?"
Solas clasped his hands together behind his back. "She may yet wake. Her connection to the Fade stays strong, but the mark continues to grow."
"The Breach is growing with it," Cassandra said, the hard edge of her voice wavering. "The pulses are coming faster."
"Indeed. They are connected." Solas turned towards the stairs.
"Where are you going?"
"Someone must try to close the rifts."
"The soldiers are in the field fighting the demons. Do not go unarmed."
"I am never unarmed," Solas said, his smirk lacking joviality. "And more than capable of protecting myself."
"Let me keep Chuckles company," Varric said, as he approached from the prison cells. "Bianca can always help if we run into trouble."
Cassandra looked between them. "Do not let the villagers see you. They are grieving and already wary of our actions."
Solas' expression flickered and he swept past Cassandra without another word.
.
.
Battered by another bear, it was the only explanation. Taliah Lavellan was limp in other's hands, it must be her lethallan dragging her to safety. She had done something stupid and rash again. Words wouldn't form on her thick tongue, her muscles weak. Pain undulated and pulsed through her, radiating from a searing brand in her left hand. She was deposited on the ground as her senses came to, eyes sharpening at the spark of green light in the dark, and the realization she was surrounded by shemlen soldiers. One paced over her and spoke. The fog in her head evaporated.
"—dead."
Lavellan pressed her lips together, eyes following Cassandra. The Seeker swayed back and circled around as there was another spark of green. Lavellan's breath stuttered, an itch of sensation lurching through her. She unfurled her palm and looked at what was there, the glowing fissure that nearly split her fate line. Her mouth fell open in surprise.
"What happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes?"
"I don't know," she whispered. The memories were shredded, fraught with terror and elusive. "I remember a woman…"
"A woman?" A hooded lady emerged from the shadows beside one of the soldiers. She joined Cassandra and they exchanged quiet words.
The manacles on Lavellan's wrists jangled, her eyes unable to turn from the glowing tear in her hand. "Why are you keeping me hostage? What happened?"
Cassandra sighed and hauled the Dalish elf to her feet. "It is… better if you see for yourself."
.
.
The Breach pulsated overhead, and they were set upon by demons once more, manifesting from the rift that burst to green light above the snow. Solas summoned a barrier around himself, the dwarf, and a few nearby soldiers. The men and women were trembling, exhausted and terrified, while his own face was set in a hard line, a grimace born of frustration and doubt. Hope was waning as the Breach grew, as more rifts appeared, and as more spirits were drawn across the Veil.
There had to be a way.
Relief came in the form of the Dalish prisoner at Cassandra's side, dual blades flashing as she darted into the fray with surprising agility. Lavellan's limbs ached in response, the pulsating energy of the mark crackling a weal beneath her grip, and each connecting hit brought another flare of light and a rush of energy up her limb. The pain was a hunger tied to her core, an electric jolt that awakened and took focus to ignore. The closer she grew to the rippling Fade rift, the higher the magnetic draw pulled, and she fought closer to its sickly warped surface almost unconsciously.
The fight sent adrenaline through her limbs, and with the hungering mark, Lavellan felt alive. Felt awake and charged for the first time since… The wisp on her blade passed through with an evaporative hiss and sight.
"Give me your hand!"
Taliah was jerked a step towards the rift, her arm in the firm grip of an elven mage. The energetic draw through her limbs sang as her palm opened to the tear, light and energy sparking, joining with the hard fought adrenaline to crackle through her limbs. It were as though her being were drawn out, reaching for the edges of the rift, feeling them ragged and finding a way to mend it. She could feel it at the edges of her fingers, the light magnifying, the tendrils of the connection a searing glow. Drawing her fingers into a tight fist, she felt the tear respond, felt it stitch shut by her touch, and with a jerk the door slammed shut with a clap of sound and energy that washed over them.
She was left staring at her palm as the crackling light in the mark subsided, momentarily satiated.
"It seems you hold the key to our salvation."
"Wha—" She looked up into Solas' blue-gray eyes. "That wasn't you. This closed it."
He nodded in assesnt, eyes upon her hand too.
"Great, let's go try it on the big one."
.
.
Lavellan woke with a roof over her head, but the deep pulse and tug in her palm and the vertigo kept her from immediately reaching for a knife. She skirted backward on the bed to press her back to the wall, taking stock of her surroundings, and making eye contact with another elf who immediately dropped what they were carrying. The bottom of Lavellan's stomach churned as they fell to their knees in seeming supplication. Soon she was alone, left only to consider if this were a finer prison than the last. Her father's teasing tales of shemlen capturing Dalish for trophies or worse were hastily buried as she called out, but the flat-ear was gone.
It was with some surprised that she found the door unlocked, and a throng of humans waiting for her outside. Waiting without shackles, without a headsman's axe, not an arrow trained on her. She almost shut the door again.