AN:It's been years since I've published a story on here. And honestly, I'd rather not be reminded of my embarrassing Kingdom Hearts high school fics that I wrote back when I was 14/15. Anyway. I wrote this piece here months ago, some time around 2014/2015 New Year's. But somehow I've just never been completely satisfied with it, hence I've never uploaded it until now. I think I have reached that certain point where I just don't know how I could write it any better. So I guess this small story here is finished. Note also that I don't have a beta reader. So you might come across over some typos or other mistakes. I tried to keep them as small as possible.
To a special person, my best friend Vinni: This is for you. Thank you for being there for me when no one else was. Thank you for all the enjoyable discussions about anything in the Dragon Age universe. I hope you'll like this story. Thank you for everything.
Red
» Let the blade pass through the flesh, let my blood touch the ground, let my cries touch their hearts. Let mine be the last sacrifice. « -Andraste 7:12
„I didn't think it was possible." His voice echoed through the vast, dark halls, leaving Lavellan shivering. She heard these words before but in a whole different context. It felt like it had been in another life.
In front of her stood the man she loved. Corrupted by red lyrium.
He said he had a track of Samson's red lyrium sources, he said he had found a way to cut them off, how to weaken Samson. He had discovered Samson's hiding place, asked for her permission to leave Skyhold for a time so he could sneak in and finish his business with Samson. She had allowed it, knowing how important and personal this was to him. He never returned.
She had thought of him as dead, mourned for him, felt guilty for not accompanying him. There had been other businesses for her to finish, more urgent things, or so she had been told.
If she only knew what had happened at Samson's base...
"This... vigor... I can feel it flowing through my veins. It's unlike anything I've ever experienced before. I didn't think a strength like this would actually exist." He inhaled deeply, looking at his hands. "I can change the world. I can actually help Corypheus doing this," he murmured the words to himself.
Lavellan stood right where she was, not daring to move an inch. By all she knew, this was certainly not the man she fell in love with. He was unpredictable, she realized. She could not say what his next move would be. Did he even recognize her? Did he even remember what bond they once shared? Was he willing to give this all up? The Inquisition? His soldiers? Her? She could not say for she barely had any knowledge about the effects of the red lyrium. Varric only advised her to stay away from it. People would go mad. Was it possible to change someone's mind entirely though? She could not say. All the red templars she had encountered so far seemed to have lost their mind completely, anyway. All of them, except for Samson.
Samson had kept all his willpower, his memories, his wit despite the consumption of the red stuff.
However, Cullen's case seemed to be completely different. While he hadn't completely lost his mind yet, like most of the red templars, he wasn't exactly himself anymore either, unlike Samson. Was it because Samson had willingly given himself to the red lyrium? Had Cullen lost his memories, his beliefs? She was clueless. She felt weak, not having any knowledge about what had happened while he was gone.
"This is true strength, Inquisitor! This is power, power you'll never be able to gain," he suddenly hollered, finally looking up from his hands and right into her eyes.
She flinched at his words. Calling her Inquisitor... had he even forgotten her name?
"Cullen..." she started but let the sentence hang in the air, not knowing what to say.
He'd gone mad. Whatever had happened at the Shrine of Dumat, it had changed him. Would he be willing to wield his sword and let the blade pierce through her? Was this his intention? She could not tell any longer.
He glared at her, still standing several feet away from her. She took the moment of silence to study him closer.
If she had to describe him with one word, it would be red. Despite parts of his armor, he had an aura flowing around him and it practically screamed the color red. Maybe it was the shards of lyrium that spread and grew out of his body around his collar. Or the red veins at his throat, pulsing vibrantly. She noticed his left arm, from his elbow to his hand, was completely covered with the red shards. She wondered how he could even use this arm any longer. It must bear a heavy weight. Then there were his eyes, his brown puppy eyes that used to have this hint of gold glittering in them. Even they were glowing red now. While studying his eyes for that short moment she also noticed another scar, starting above the eyebrow of his right eye and ending at his lower eyelid.
So there must've been fighting at least. The though of it was still somewhat comforting to Lavellan, giving her the knowledge that her Commander hadn't willingly surrendered to become... this. A red monster. He wouldn't have wanted this, not ever. His willpower to serve the Inquisition had been too strong for that.
So what in the world was it that Samson had done? She could not imagine, neither did she want to. He could't possibly have fed the red lyrium to Cullen that simple, he must've invaded his mind. Tortured him. The thought sickened her.
Cullen had told her what had happened at Ferelden's Circle ten years ago. Wasn't that one time enough for him? Did it really have to happen twice that someone used his mind against him? He didn't deserve to break, not again, not like this. But did he even care? Did he even realize what damage had been done to him? In his current state, he probably didn't. Yes, in this state it was probably better to leave him the way he was, not reminding him of who he had once been and what he had lost.
She continued to simply stare at him. He seemed to glow in red, as if there was no other color in this world left. It kind of reminded her of the sunsets she had watched together with him back at Skyhold, on the battlements. Dagna tried to explain her once. When the sun went down – or when it went up – the colors of the light were scattered and through the long distance red was the color to gain the upper hand, therefore being the most noticeable color in a sunset. The strongest color.
Lavellan made a grim face at the memory. Red was strength. That was what Cullen was trying to tell her in that moment. How ironic. He might be right.
He broke the silence by slowly moving forward, his right hand on the pommel of his sword, ready to draw it any moment. She backed away.
"Cullen, please," she begged. She had never been the type of person to beg and she hated herself for doing it right now. She had never felt so defenseless before. She knew it would not matter what she did or what she said, his mind was made up. But she had to try. She had to. She would never be able to forgive herself if she didn't even try.
"What?" he growled. He had never spoken to her that way before and it gave her the creeps.
"What happened? This wasn't meant to be... " She had hoped her voice to be steady but instead it cracked, her words coming out in a hushed whisper.
"Of course it wasn't! But guess what, Inquisitor, you can't save the world from what's coming next. You can't save me." Every step he took forward, she took two backwards until she felt her back pressed against the cold stone wall. Once she reached the wall, he stopped as well, much to her surprise.
Lavellan gulped, fully aware that her face would give away all the fear she was feeling in that moment.
What did he mean, she couldn't save him? Was there still humanity left in him? Did he still harbor all of their shared memories? If so, why did he stand against her now? The feeling of confusion melted with fear spread within her.
She still wasn't aware about what would come next, she didn't know what to do. Would he kill her? Would she have to kill him? Could she even do that?
"We can always try to find a cure," she started although she was aware this was something silly to say. There was no cure for the red lyrium, she knew this all too well. Not to mention that he probably didn't even want it.
He laughed coldly. "No. This wasn't what I meant. I don't need your saving. Even if you could." His words were harsher than any blade, she was sure of that.
Her breathing came out harder than before; her heart ached at his words. Her throat felt constricted. She looked at him in bewilderment. There he stood, right in front of her, big and scary and red. Yet, he was still handsome in a way. Her heart raced, aching. He was her one and only love, always had been. But he wasn't hers. Not anymore.
Lavellan closed her eyes and let memories of happier times flood through her for a moment.
Oh, how innocently everything had begun. A mage and a templar. A Dalish and a human. The Inquisitor and her Commander. She had never thought this could actually work so she had tried to deny her feelings as much as possible. Still, there were lots of awkward attempts of flirting, sneaking looks across the war table and lastly confessions of love. Everything had changed the day he showed her he was indeed feeling the same. They started having a relationship, in secrecy at first, which included lots of covert meetings on the battlements or in any hidden rooms at Skyhold since the fortress provided more than enough of those. They started spending their nights together. There was no place in the world where she could possibly feel safer than in his arms.
Stronger when you hold him.
She exhaled deeply and opened her eyes again. Her heart ached. Her heart yearned. Those had probably been the happiest days of her life. But they were gone now. There was nothing of it left. Just the memories.
Yes, she would have to kill him eventually. As much as she refused to believe in it, she knew this was the only way. There was no room for personal feelings here. Not anymore. As hard as it was, she would have to forget about the feelings she still harbored for him. She would have to remind herself of the cause of the Inquisition. She couldn't let a man, a single man, ruin the Inquisition - maybe even all of Thedas – just because she was too weak to do what must be done. She must keep that thought alive. She must not forget why she was here. She wasn't here to rescue him or to get killed, she was here to defy and defeat the enemies of the Inquisition – and kill them, if necessary.
The silence between them dragged on and breathing became even harder. What was he waiting for? Did he even blink while staring at her? Was he waiting for her to make the first move? That, she couldn't.
She straightened herself properly to appear in a more confident position. "What is then, that you need?" she finally asked. "What is it that you want from me?" She was prepared for her voice failing her again but to her surprise, it didn't. In fact, she sounded steady and willing.
There was another small pause before he answered, "Easy, isn't it? What I want, what I need is you."
She snorted. "How romantic..." she hissed sarcastically. At last, the feelings of confusion and fear vanished and slowly made room for all the anger seething deep inside her. Anger she had blocked out until that moment. Why she was so angry she couldn't say for sure.
Then he drew out his sword. Slowly, as before, he moved forward to her, closing the distance between them with small, heavy steps.
His movements may have been slow but it still happened too sudden for her to grasp the events that were happening there right in front of her. She felt numb, unable to move.
For a moment she thought of that time where she had asked him what he would do, if she ever got possessed by a demon. She was sure he would say that he'd have to do what must be done which would mean he would kill her. Instead he had responded that she surely didn't know what he would do. He was right, she was never sure if that meant that he would in fact kill her if that case would ever happen or if he would be too weak to do it and would urge someone else to finish the job.
She certainly understood now. He would've never killed her, being possessed or not. He would've been too weak, that was what he was trying to tell her that day. Right now, she felt the same. If anybody else was here with her, she'd asked them to do what she couldn't. She wouldn't blame them. She felt guilty for claiming that she could handle this issue alone and refused any help offered, even from her closest friends within the Inquisition.
Yet, she had to and she knew it. No room for personal feelings. No room for doubt. She tried to keep these thoughts, tried to strengthen her resolve. He had already made his mind up, now she had to do the same.
For the Inquisition, she reminded herself. For my clan. For Thedas. I can't fail now.
Closer and closer he came and before she could react to grab the staff on her back he was already there. Too late for her.
Slowly, he reached up and she felt the cold iron of his blade at her throat as she tilted her head back a bit. Everything he did, he did so painfully slowly.
She glared at him. Interestingly, she did feel no fear, there were no tears, no nothing. She still felt numb for a moment, then the anger started boiling inside her again. She was so very angry. Angry for letting him go that day, angry that he had become this, angry at herself for doubting so much and being too slow to draw her own weapon. Angry for being weak.
I can't die now. They rely on me. For the Inquisition.
But he hesitated. Why did he hesitate?
She looked into his eyes, trying to search for a sign in them, anything. He returned her look, a red intense glare. Was there... recognition in his eyes? It was just a small flicker, lasting for only second, but she noticed. There was at least something.
"What are you waiting for? You want to finish me off? Then why don't you do it right here and right now while you can?" Her voice trembled again, this time with anger though.
He grinned. "That'd be far too easy, wouldn't it?" His voice was a low murmur, still sounding somewhat seductive especially when he raised his left brow in question.
Seductive, if it wasn't for all the red. Lavellan couldn't stand to see that color any longer, it made her sick, it made her even more angry. She'd be very happy to return to Skyhold and never see the color red again. That though, was rather impossible. Especially considering the situation she was in right now. She should be happy if she would ever return to Skyhold in the first place. Without him. Or rather, without the monster he became.
"Since when has easy ever stopped you? I can make it more difficult for you, if that's what you want," she replied.
He didn't move or flinch, nor did he even say anything. It was as if she hadn't said anything at all.
Her heart beat harder and harder, the fear of the unknown caught up to her once again. Although she knew him so well, it was impossible for her to tell what was going through his head right now or what his next move would be.
Lavellan was still frozen in place. Her limbs felt stiff, she couldn't move, no matter how hard she wanted to. So she closed her eyes, silently giving him permission to make the next move, for she was unable to do so.
When she opened her eyes again he smirked, an evil smirk it was. "Not today, Inquisitor," he simply said. She felt him drawing his sword back, the cold iron leaving her skin.
She stood there for another moment, eyes tight shut again and took some heavy breaths before she dared to open her eyes once more. There was nothing to fear though. He had already left and she wondered how he was able to move away so quickly and most of all, in such silence. She was sure she was supposed to hear his heavy steps or the sound of his armor but there had been nothing and there was no sign in which direction he had left.
She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She didn't know if she should feel glad that he was finally gone without hurting her or if she should feel even more guilty to let him slip away from her once more.
What was she supposed to do? She could live neither with nor without him, that was for sure by now.
Lavellan woke up early in the morning, drenched in cold sweat. Another nightmare. She happened to have these quite often in the past weeks. It took her some time to sort her thoughts and separate her dreams from reality before she got up to get ready for another busy day full of surprises.
Once she got ready, she made her way out of her quarters and outside to breathe some fresh air. Soldiers and servants were up by now, already busy with training or delivering goods and messages.
She walked through the courtyard, watching her men while clearing her thoughts. There, on the other side, he was.
Her heart skipped a beat at the sight. He turned around and spotted her, indicating that there was something he had to tell her. She tried to shake off the terrible dreams she had that night as she went over to the man she loved so dearly.
"Inquisitor!" he greeted her as formally as ever whenever other people were around. He seemed to be excited about something. Without giving her time to speak, he already continued, "I believe I've found Samson's main base. I know we don't exactly have the time and the forces to allow us this distraction but if I am correct about my information then we could deal a deathly blow to Samson if we attack him there without a warning." For a moment he stopped. Lavellan's heart skipped another beat, she already knew what he would ask for next.
"Please give me your permission to go there myself. We both know I have personal feelings about this. Let me take only a few of my men with me, I'm sure we'll be able to handle our own and the Inquisition would not suffer a lack of soldiers."
Lavellan remembered her dream again. It didn't matter to her if it was only a dream or not but it was another future she would prevent from ever happening. What he said was, of course, reasonable, but there was no way in hell she'd ever allow that.
After remaining expressionless for a moment, she shook her head. "I'm going with you," she replied, much to Cullen's surprise. He didn't expect her to come with him, nor did he want to put her into danger. But if he head learned something about this amazing woman in front of him, then it was that she wasn't nearly as fragile as she looked like and she was capable of looking after herself.
"Are you... sure?" he asked. Her willing to accompany him on this trip meant a lot to him, as it was such a personal issue to him.
Lavellan nodded. "Yes. I won't let you go there alone." Again, he was taken aback by the resolve in her voice but in the end he didn't mind, not at all.
He smiled. "Good... then... we should get prepared. I'll let you know about the details later. For now, I still got some other duties to fulfill." He took her hand and squeezed it for a short moment before he made his way to the training soldiers.
Lavellan smiled to herself. No way she would let a reality like in her dream happen. No way she would live without him. They'd either die together there or they'd succeed. Whatever would happen, she wasn't afraid.
AN: Just some last words. The ending... yeah, I know. I didn't know how to let this story end so I ended up choosing the cheapest way to let it end... by it all being a dream! Ahahaha, points for my non-existing creativity I guess. Also, the Inquisitor could be from any race here. I just chose Lavellan because ELF LOVE. Feel free to imagine her as a Trevelyan or anyone else though.