Summary: Aderyn Hawke does not shy away from either responsibility or sacrifice. Her entire life has been marked by those two traits, why should it be any different when the Champion, the Warden, and the Inquisitor attempt to escape the Fade.
a/n: Thanks to inuy21 for her encouragement of this piece. I've been thinking about this moment and what happens for a long time but never got around to writing it. I appreciate the push friend.
Waking Nightmare
-1-
"How do we get by?" Alistair yelled, eyes fixed on the mountainous arachnid that sought to keep them from reaching the rift in the fade.
Aderyn didn't even think about the words that tumbled out of her mouth in reply. "Go, I'll cover you."
"No," he replied. "You were right. The Grey Wardens caused this mess." With a resigned sigh and narrowed brow, he turned his face toward the nightmarish beast and leveled his shield. His voice held a hint of the type of commanding nature that secured her respect all those years ago. "A Warden must—"
"A warden must help them rebuild," she argued. When he turned toward her, she looked at him with a softness that bespoke their years of friendship. Her voice mirrored her countenance. "That's your job, Alistair. Corypheus is mine," she added, a low growl in her voice as she turned her hardened gaze upon the spider. She really did hate spiders.
The scrapping shrieks escaping the creature's mandibles echoed off the stone around them. Rhys' jaw flexed as he stared forward like the rest of them.
"We don't have time for you to think this through," she said grabbing the inquisitor's arm and drawing his attention forcibly, like she used to have to do with Carver. "You have to go, now."
"Aderyn," Alistair's voice sounded like he wanted to argue the point.
"No arguments. Go! Now!"
"Hawke," Rhys said, his voice cracking.
She stepped past him, holding up her hand as a blinding flash drew the creature's attention. "I said go!"
The beast reared back in pain and she rushed forward. "Tell Varric, Carver, and Cullen, I'm sorry," she said, more to herself than to anyone else. Her friend wouldn't understand, though she knew eventually her lover would. She honestly didn't know how Carver would react, sometimes he could be as temperamental as he had been as a child.
Still it pained her to leave them, especially like this. She had only reunited with her dear friend and her brother. And finally, she and Cullen seemed to have found a moment in time that allowed them the chance to embrace their relationship more so than any other point in their lives together.
As a pointed foot slammed into the ground behind her, her thoughts returned to the battle at hand. Fate, it seemed, had other plans, ones that did not include her storybook happily ever after.
With the wave of a hand, a bubble shimmered around her and with each careful step forward bolts fired from her staff. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the inquisitor push Alistair through the rip in the Fade. When Rhys looked back at her, she gave him a nod and he stepped through. It crackled and shriek pierced her ears. Eventually the rip snapped shut.
Safe, she thought, just before an explosion and a wave of pressure knocked her off her feet and sent her sailing into the air.
The barrier she'd cast was all the protected her from the initial blast as the shock wave flung her into the ether. It sent her spinning through the brackish green darkness. Righting herself, she closed her eyes and tried what her father had taught her as a child. He'd called it projecting your thoughts. It was how he said he could find her when she dreamed.
Now, she sought others whose minds she might be able to touch in the way he had Bethany's and her own. She gathered happy memories of Merrill and called her name in her head, trying to reach out to her old friend. Her thoughts turned toward Cullen more than once, despite knowing that the possibility of meeting him in a dream was slim even before he stopped taking lyrium. She thought of the mages Rhys had introduced her to, especially Solas, who spoke long and often of his fade dreaming.
Eventually in silent desperation Aderyn's mind turned toward Feynriel. They had been on friendly terms, though she did not know him well. She had helped him, encouraged him to find answers about his talent.
No answers came. No connection, even momentary, seemed to reach any mage, though a demon or two answered. Whenever that happened, she closed her mind, letting the winds carry her elsewhere.
She did not know how much time passed as she floated through the more tenuous spaces of the fade, but eventually her path crossed the domain of another. With great care, she set foot upon the stone and took careful steps.
"Let's try not to wake anything, shall we?" she whispered on a slowly exhaled breath. Even the sound of her own voice sounded strange to her after so much silence.
Pebbles trickled against the stone and sounded as boulders careening downhill to her ears, but still she moved forward, placing one foot in front of the other with careful ease. Every step felt strange in its own way, as she placed her weight on her bones and muscles once again.
After following a winding trail carved through the rocky face of what took the shape of a cliff, Aderyn came to a cavern. She looked behind her, green smoke billowed on roiling waves of black—it was far worse than the sea, she thought. Drift, or continue? she asked herself. With a sigh, she turned toward the cavern. Lighting the tip of her father's staff, she moved with tense caution. Surely, this is a lair. But for what? That is the question.
It was an answer she truly did not want the answer to. With each step, the light from her staff seemed to grow stronger and stronger until it exploded in a blinding flash.
-2-
Aderyn groaned, blinking several times in order to gain her bearings. A part of her expected to feel jagged rocks beneath her palms, instead her fingers found only softness and smooth fabric. She sat up with a start, eyes blinking furiously as her vision cleared. Where is the cave? Where am I?
The house was small, familiar, though it took her a moment to recognize it. It was the books on rickety shelves and the painting on the wall that struck her memory.
Lothering?
Her eyes scanned the room. It had to be. Though this wasn't the room she had shared with her siblings as a girl. It was her parents'. She was in her parents' bed. Scrambling, she got to the edge and jumped out as if she'd been bitten.
"You're up," a deep voice purred behind her. She didn't even have a chance to turn before thick strong arms looped around her waist. Warm lips pressed a lingering kiss on her neck. Aderyn sank into the embrace that felt far too much like the one she wanted it to be.
"Cullen?" she whispered.
He chuckled. "Who else would it be, dearest?"
Powerful hands turned her, and she found herself looking up into his face. A face she knew so well, eyes that held her with such gentle consideration that she could almost believe it was really him.
"I thought you were going to sleep away the day," he said, capturing her lips.
Aderyn broke the kiss before she got swept away. Covering her mouth with the back of her hand, she glanced around and took up her father's staff from near the bookcase.
"Love?" he asked.
"You think me so easily fooled, demon."
"Aderyn?" he asked.
The opening of the door made the rouse more startling. A young child toddled into the room. Cullen scooped up a girl with her eyes and his curls falling about her shoulders.
"Mama," she giggled, leaning out of his grasp with chubby little arms outstretched toward Aderyn.
A hollow ache rolled through her belly. Then it backfilled with rage. "Desire," she spat at the pair, gall dripping from her tone. The staff crackled and smoke filled the cavern.
There was a look of hurt in Cullen's eyes as Aderyn's own gaze turned cold. The babe cried out, still reaching for her in desperation as she cried, "Mama, Mama. Ma-ma!"
Though her heart ached to hear those words, the mage knew it was a trick meant to ensnare her. Her disbelief helped the illusion swirl away.
"Your tricks will not work on me. Show yourself, fiend," she spat.
"There's no need to be rude," a smooth, masculine voice called. As it sounded like it came from behind her, Aderyn turned quickly, her long braid whipping through the air. "What is it with you humans?"
Again, she turned. "Why do you hide from a mere woman? Are you a coward as well?"
"But you are no mere woman, are you?" The voice caressed her ear like a lover's might.
Her body whipped away only to find no one there yet again.
"You, my dearest." This time it used Cullen's voice and she could swear she felt his breath upon her neck. "You are the Champion of Kirkwall," it said, taking on Varric's ever-present purr this time.
"Your ruse is revealed. I will not fall for your disguises or temptations."
"Are you so certain, kitten?" it asked in Isabela's flirtatious lilt. Strong hands pressed over her hips, pulling at her robes as a body curved against her back.
Aderyn broke away, again turning in the foggy darkness. Her eyes darted this way and that as she sought the source. The smoke seemed to swirl around her carrying with it a far too familiar mix of scents—leather, sweat, and the barest hint of grains that she always associated with the linseed oil Cullen used on his sword and his armor. She grounded herself in the ragged ground beneath the thin soles of her boots and the hard shaft of the staff in her hands, refusing to succumb to the creature's attempts to lure her with the familiar.
"I am not your trophy, demon. I will not let you in."
"Oh, they all say that. And in the end, they all succumb." The voice swept past one ear, then the other.
Aderyn cracked the blade of the staff against the ground and a rush of wind blew the mists away, as the stone glowed in a soft light. "I have no time for this nonsense," she said walking back toward what she thought had been the entrance of the cave, but she found it sealed.
"Others would be offended at your poor manners. But I find you quite intriguing."
When she turned this time, she saw it. It was the first time she could recall seeing a desire demon that took a masculine form. Like its female counterpart, this demon bore none of the modesty enforced by mortal society. It bore its body openly, except for a swath of luxurious gold-embroidered purple cloth that hung between its muscular legs from scant gold chains that crisscrossed its dark torso. With each step, the chains and pendants hanging from it chimed against smooth skin and firm muscle.
To be sure, there was a beauty about the demon. Its piercing black eyes and sharp features would woo many a heart, but hers remained true and steadfastly engaged elsewhere. And its attempts to play at being the man she loved could not fool her soul, even if her ears and eyes failed to catch the deception at first.
"You are quite lovely still," the demon cooed, approaching her. His long nails scratched over her shoulder as he rounded her. "And it has been far too long since one with such … vitality visited my lair. The dreaming are one thing," it said, coming to a halt in front of her. "But the living. You are a treat. It's been far too long since a visitor got my blood up."
A hand closed around one of hers and the demon pulled her against it. Aderyn fought it, but it had the element of surprise. She stumbled against its chest, its other arm looping around her. As it pressed against her, the demon added a salacious roll of its hips.
"You're barking up the wrong robes," Aderyn replied, shoving at its chest and finally putting some air between them. "What is it? Do all demons truly believe mages are just oversexed and underserviced?" she mumbled, walking away again.
"You won't find your exit that way either, my dear."
"Mmhmm."
"There's only one way out of this cavern."
"And I'm sure it's between your legs," she called over her shoulder as she strolled along the edge of the cavern, inspecting the stone.
"That's one way yes," it purred.
"I swear, you're truly worse than a sailor whose been at sea for months on end." When she found an opening, she chuckled. The sound reverberated off the stone.
"And better in, oh, so many ways." Its voice coasted along the shell of her ear as a light breeze teased at the hem of her robes.
"Sorry to disappoint," she called as she slipped into the opening. "I'm no Circle mage."
Aderyn wasn't foolish enough to think she'd escaped the lusty desire demon. But for several minutes the only sounds she heard were the echo of her own footsteps and breathing in the tight, uneven tunnel. As it twisted and turned, eventually the light from her staff became unnecessary as she approached an outlet.
The demon lay there atop a flat bit of stone that too much resembled an altar. It was draped over it on its side, with its body on display again, even more so than before. As she approached one hand flipped the sheath of purple over its hip and a clawed hand, with fingers a few shades darker than the rest of its skin, stroked the length of its turgid cock.
"Worse than a poorly mannered mabari, who humps the leg of every visitor," she mumbled. With a laugh, she shook her head at the pitiable demon.
"What does that make you? The bitch in heat?" it asked, wearing a wicked grin.
This demon seemed strange. Most fed off emotions. It behaved like a desire demon, but seemed to thrive off her disdain. She couldn't figure its motives.
"I have no time to play your games demon." She walked off trying to keep her response calm and even. Perhaps it would get bored or tire of her, then she could find some way out of this place.
"You won't find a way to the world beyond. Nightmare controls the tears."
"Nightmare is no more," Aderyn said, in a gruff but victorious tone over her shoulder.
"Then so are the rifts."
"I doubt that," she said more to herself than to the demon, who had been fondling itself. Coming to an end of the walk way, she hitched up her robes and set to climbing. It was not an easy task, but she was not wholly unfamiliar with how to accomplish it.
Once at the top, she sighed, finding she was no longer alone. The demon stood there, hands on its hips which pressed forward as if to draw more attention to its proud, jutting cock, which was on display once more. Aderyn shook her head. This demon behaved so strangely, she wondered if it had been marooned here on its own by others of its own kind. The creature must be starving, she thought with pity. And perhaps a bit mad.
It glared at her, eyes flashing red. "Do not pity me. I will not suffer the insolence of your kind." The creature growled and the vibrant fuchsia hair that had curled so delicately over its broad shoulders billowed and took on the aspect of fire. The demon seemed to grow in scale with each step.
Aderyn reacted. In a fluid motion, her hands and body moved with the incantation. In the next step, the demon found first one hoof then the other frozen to the ground. Ice crept up his legs, rooting him in place. With a roar, his fists bashed against the ice. Pointing her staff at him, another incantation tumbled from her lips, like a song to the Maker, and clouds circled above his head. Thunder rolled just before the first bolt of lightning sizzled through the air.
The demon howled in pain and yanking at its leg. It freed one and then eventually the other. A second bolt sparked over its purple skin, causing the demon to stop and convulse in place for a moment as Aderyn scrambled away, over the rocks.
"You will never see them again."
"What would you know of it? You're going to die here, demon."
"As will you," it growled, moving toward her on all fours. "You'll die in agony, alone. Never having felt the weight of your lover's seed in your womb."
Aderyn lashed out again with a gout of fire, that left the beast screaming. The sound of pain soon turned to laughter, as the beast grew. A massive hand lashed out of the fire and knocked her against the wall. But the mage refused to end at the hands of any demon, especially this one. She called upon the lightning again, sealing the beast in a cage that crackled with energy and drained the power from the creature. Once back to a more normal size, Aderyn circled her hands in front of her chest, gathering an icy ball of energy that crackled with shimmering arcs of lightning. When she let it go, the ice froze the demon as the energy arced through its body. She ran over and swung her staff at the frozen creature. It shattered, raining onto the rocky plateau like a thousand diamonds that tinkled in a symphony.
"Stick that in your empty womb, you uncouth demon bastard," she said, breath coming heavy. The bits of ice and flesh turned to ash, which the winds lifted and carried away from the floating mountain.
Aderyn dropped to her knees; relief and grief flooded through her. That moment the demon showed her had been pulled straight from the foolish dreams of a girl who knew far too little of the real world, but even still there was a part of her that still wanted those things. Her hands shook and she fisted them in the fabric of her robes to calm her nerves. Eventually her gaze rose again, inspecting the flat peak.
In an instant, she realized that she knew far too little of the Fade. Her father kept she and Bethany close all his life, and even after he died, Aderyn carried on that tradition with her sister. Each night, she would seek Bethany out, and they would wait out the dawn together. Following Bethany's death, Aderyn wandered a bit, but never too far from the familiar spaces of this strange world. Her other visits to the Fade had only granted her a cursory understanding of the place and served to staunch any curiosity she might have harbored at any point.
"Perhaps I should have read more," she mumbled, wondering how she was going to get through this, how she was going to find a way out.
Despite the growing worry, which she tried to keep a handle on. Aderyn was determined to find a way out. She stood and walked to the edge of the cliff, considering the swirling darkness. Perhaps she could recreate what happened with the explosion of the rift in Nightmare's Lair. Sheathing herself in a protective barrier, she aimed her staff at the ground not far away. A fireball hit the ground, the impact tossing her off the edge of the cliff and into the air.
Righting herself, Hawke found herself traveling through the ether again, but at a much slower pace. Next time, she would have to try something else—perhaps a more powerful spell or maybe contain the force in some way. This problem consumed her mind as she waited for another chance to make her escape.