Chapter 1
Now-Firstfall
Meryn Lavellan figured it was only a matter of time until Jowly found a body.
She could hear him-or rather she could hear the appropriately sized flesh prison he was parading around in-trying to follow her. Meryn imagines he will try to finally carry out his promise to "rip her secrets from her flesh and gorge himself on her blood," which, she notes proudly, was getting more and more difficult for the terror demon to accomplish since she's finally learning how to handle herself in the Fade.
She's forced Jowly into a corner, giving him no choice but to find some poor fool to possess so he could attack her in the physical realm, his demon-y pride now in jeopardy.
Which begs the question-was it possible for terror demons to have pride? Was there some kind of club or organization they went to if they had a demon-y identity crisis? She can just picture Jowly there, surrounded by other demons, maybe even Horny, the self-assured, pompous desire demon (aptly named for the large horns on her head and not for far more obvious reasons, though Meryn loves the double entendre) that Jowly sometimes brings with him, crying over failed possession attempts and broken dreams.
An ominous scuffle much closer behind her then she would like startles Tadwinks- who's wrapped around her shoulder-and snaps Meryn back to the present from her persistent daydreams.
That's right. She's running for her life.
Again.
She assumed she'd reached her quota of life threatening adventures when she destroyed Corypheus nearly a year ago, but apparently not.
In retrospect, allowing her curiosity to get the better of her and touch yet another magical object of unknown origin was not her best idea. Meryn couldn't help herself-the red lyrium Eluvian was so shiny and beautiful in a creepy, dark portal kind of way, which was proven true when the Anchor, seemingly with a will of its own, made contact with the Eluvian's surface and she fell through to the Crossroads, sealing both herself and Tadwinks away from her companions. But this place isn't like the other parts of the In-Between she's ventured into.
Not that she spent a lot of time in the Crossroads of course. Morrigan was rather explicit in her instructions to the Inquisitor in regards to her Eluvian-
"Tis simple Inquisitor. DO NOT TOUCH IT."
"Ever?"
"No."
That particular mandate didn't last the day. In Meryn's defense, the witch's Eluvian is her heritage, and the Well of Sorrows did say it was okay-that's what she told herself anyway. At the time the voices were difficult to distinguish, and probability told her at least one was bound to agree with her and her touch-the-magic-mirror-and-play-in-the-lost-realm-of-her-ancestors philosophy.
Lost realm of her ancestors indeed. Where in the great Beyond was she? It seems the same...
The monochromatic color scheme-light grays, dark grays, some blacks thrown in as accents-that she's come to associate with the Crossroads is the same. The strange mist rising from the broken cobblestone pathway she is running down-also similar. Then, she notices it. The feel of the place.
The In-Between normally feels stagnant. Dead. But here it feels like the forest, like its stirring. The end of every winter is alike; the forest slowly coming alive after a long hibernation. Animals wake up, lumbering out of their caves and hovels, plants sprout new leaves, blossoming towards the sun. The Crossroads feels like that-like some great Beast is waking from a deep sleep, falling quickly off a precipice into consciousness.
Meryn did that once. (Though it may have been more then once. Who can tell?) Not the falling out of consciousness part but the falling off a precipice bit. In her defense, she's usually preoccupied with reading her atlas and doesn't notice a cliff's edge until she's right on top of-and sometimes over-it. The one time the cliff dive was actually intentional was entirely the dragon's fault. She, (the dragon), had the gall to fly off with Syl still embedded in her rear scales and jumping off the cliff onto the blasted thing was the timeliest way for Meryn to retrieve her blade and save herself from the tongue lashing Dagna would have given her for losing a dagger. Again.
She can see the little differences now, how the stones beneath her pounding feet faintly flicker to actual colors-pale blues, greens, and violets-before softly fading back to grey. The air feels crisper, fresher in her lungs, allowing her to move even more quickly then she usually does without tiring. The lifeless, cyclical trees seem to be sprouting buds, but she is sprinting to fast to stop and confirm it.
She checks over her shoulder for any signs of Jowly. He was never very subtle in her dreams and she's amazed he hasn't roared Submit! in that terrifying scream of his or taunted her with her worst fears but Meryn doesn't see any sign of him-other than an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Even that could have been caused by something else. Blackwall did make eggs that morning in camp. She tried to tell him eggs should not be green, but he insisted it was a family recipe and promptly shut her up by shoveling slices of ham on her plate as well.
Tadwinks trills softly in her ear to bring her back to the present, and she refocuses on the task at hand-finding a way out. Since the Anchor got her into this mess, she hopes it can open another Eluvian and get her back to the Inquisition. The complete and utter lack of Eluvians just proves to her she is not in the Crossroads or any other kind of familiar territory.
The Crossroads should be riddled with the old mirrors, most dark and broken or twisted by the Taint, but Meryn doesn't see any in this new realm. Just the rainbow road she's scrambling down, the forest of Spiraled-Almost-Living-But-Kind-Of-Dead trees and the ever present, ground clinging mist. Almost as if it senses her annoyance (and desperation though she's loathe to admit it) the fog opens up on the path before her, revealing the most elaborate and ornate Eluvian she's ever seen.
The mirror is three times her height, magnificent obsidian with inlays of gilded silver. Vines and leaves are etched into the filigree, twining from the base up both sides until they connect at the top of the glass. The Eluvian is extraordinary, save the glass itself, which is cracked and warped so badly the mirror is incapable of reflecting light. A asymmetrical sliver is missing from the very center, and she is about to touch it, curious-when the odd feeling in her stomach flares and she can feel a gaze burning into her back.
Jowly.
Tired of running, relieved the queasy feeling isn't from Blackwall's cooking, and ready to show the demon exactly what makes Meryn Lavellan a living legend, she calls out, not bothering to turn around.
"Just so you know, we're not in the Fade anymore, and if you come near me again I will kill you," Self-assured with just the right amount of menace she notes happily. Bull would be proud, having deemed himself her tutor in griefing her adversaries because threatening to have an Avvar warlord throw goats at your enemy is not intimidating. At all, apparently.
A sharp intake of breath is not what the Inquisitor is expecting, or the soft chuckle, and cursing her troublesome curiosity she turns-
-and her heart stops.
"...Solas?"
Notes:
Next Time: Six months prior, Meryn has a problem at Skyhold and a long talk with Josephine.
Quotables: "Never. It's what he wants. A blatant power move if I ever saw one."