Chapter Three: It Begins
We broke
Everything that was right
We both enjoyed a good fight
And we sewed
All the holes we had to breathe
To make the other one live
And I loved the way you looked at me
And I miss the way you made me feel
When we were alone
-Shiver, Lucy Rose
Necessity had forced Dryanna to forget.
No… not forget. Never forget.
Repress.
It would have been easy, far too easy, for her to slip into the oblivion his absence had left behind, to let go of everything she'd worked so hard to accomplish and drape herself in sorrow. So, she pushed aside the memories of his hands, warm and steady on her hips, of his lips sliding achingly across her mouth, of his taste and smell and presence, allowing her to continue on as she must.
Still… he lingered in the smaller moments.
Appearing in her sudden dislike of tea, in her quiet interest in everything related to the Fade, in her attempts to understand more about Spirits and Demons and the mysterious pasts' of their people. Subconsciously hoping her efforts might lead her to his side and help her understand why he had left her behind.
Flashes of his ghost haunted her, tormenting her with the curve of his smile and the line of his jaw echoed in the faces of strangers. Sometimes she wondered if she was going slowly mad. If a piece of her mind and heart had been lost forever, and with it her sanity.
She would watch Cullen open a report and recall Solas's long, nimble fingers, so gentle yet so determined, so sure as they reached for her, only to tremble away when she reached back. She would listen to Thom and Cassandra exchange war stories over a fire and recall Solas's calming, understanding presence, and the quiet sad sort of look that would come over him when he recounted his memories from the Fade. Memories that she was now certain weren't dreams, but experiences he'd personally endured in a time beyond her imagining.
No matter what comes, I want you to know that what we had… was real.
Looking down at her remaining hand in a silver stretch of moonlight, Dryanna wasn't sure what was real any longer. In the recesses of her mind, a lone wolf howled a single, broken note that went on and on and on.
Her friends left one and two at a time.
Varric's departure came shortly after Dorian's. He reminded her that she owed him a visit and that Bran, his seneschal, wouldn't leave him alone until they'd had a proper ceremony for her title as Comtess –and unlikely holder of the port key for Kirkwall. Iron Bull left with his Chargers to escort the Tevinter Ambassador to the border of Orlais, promising to return to Skyhold once the job was done. For how long, he didn't say, and Dryanna hadn't asked. She had merely smiled, waggled her brows, and waved goodbye to Krem who stood very close to a certain bard.
Sera was the easiest, as she merely departed ahead of their main contingent so she could return to a certain –insane- dwarven anarcist. Dryanna had sent her back with some reports and missives, then promised she'd be home as soon as possible, and to please not allow Dagna blow up anything important.
Cassandra avoided saying farewell for days before finally cornering Dryanna in a deserted hallway. She looked like a child about to confess some sort of misdeed to a parent.
"I've word from several Seekers, we'd like to, under Divine Victoria's discretion, start rebuilding," she said to Dryanna's boots.
Dryanna smiled, heart sinking. She'd expected this, of course, but found the reality harder to face than she had imagined. "That's wonderful Cassandra. Where will you begin?"
"In the Hinterlands," she said, still not meeting her eye. "You recall the castle we wrested from those mercenaries?"
"Rather hard to forget," Dryanna said wryly, tapping the left ridge of her jaw where a mercenary's dagger had caught her, drawing the other woman's attention.
Cassandra coughed into her gloved fist. "Yes, well, the Divine has seen fit to grant it to the order while we attempt to rebuild and assess the damage. Oh, and she has named me Lady Seeker, though I thought perhaps we might rid the new order of such titles all together."
Dryanna nodded, hoping her face betrayed nothing of her disappointment. "That's wonderful news, Cassandra. I know how much this means to you. I always believed you could reestablish the Seekers toward a brighter cause."
The Seeker's cheeks colored slightly and she peeked sidelong at Dryanna, as if she wasn't entirely sure if she should believe her. "It will take years to rebuild… and in light of what we learned at Caer Oswin, well, there is much to do. Much that must be changed." At least, Dryanna reasoned, the Hinterlands were not too far from Skyhold.
Draynna placed a hand on Cassandra's shoulder. "You know you have my full support. Always."
Cassandra seemed to melt slightly with relief, her smile turning genuine. "Thank you, my friend. It is good to know that you are not angry with me for leaving."
"I did not expect you to stay long, now that the Inquisition is officially disbanded," she said. "There is much to do, many things that need to be set right."
Cassandra fixed her with an even, contemplative stare. "I know what the other's will say. What they have already begun to say. But Solas… was my friend. I believe as you do that there is hope he may be reasoned with. And if anyone can find that reason, it is you."
Dryanna swallowed thickly and, mostly because she could think of nothing to say that wouldn't tear her soul into even smaller pieces, she drew the other woman in for a tight hug. It was much less awkward this time; clearly practice would make perfect.
Dryanna met Leliana in a small storage room near the dungeons beneath the Winter Palace long after the midnight bell had rung.
"Well?" she asked, stepping into the faint circle of light from a single, small torch.
Leliana, cloaked and dressed in black, pulled the shroud from first one Eluvian, then three others, all of them dark and lifeless. For the moment, at least. "We've secured two more, they should be delivered tomorrow. My agents in Ferelden have accounted for eight so far, they will be smuggled to Skyhold as soon as they are able."
Dryanna nodded gravely. More than she had anticipated, but it was hard to say from where they had come and to what purpose. Solas? The Qunair? Or-
"And what of Briala?"
Leliana's jaw tightened. "Still long gone, along with an increasing number of elven servants. We can find no trace of the Ambassador."
"Gods, that was fast… what could it mean?"
Leliana hesitated, looking thoughtfully at the mirrors, as though she expected some direction or information to come leaping out to aid her. "There have been rumors… whispers among the servants-" she broke off.
"Of?" Dryanna pressed, tugging the folds of her cloak closer about her to ward off the chill of stone and uncertainty that permeated the air.
"Of a presence, visiting elven servants in their dreams. A presence, or demon, claiming to be Mythal."
Dryanna rubbed her hand over her face, considering. She had not forgotten the price she'd paid for the Well, but she didn't particularly appreciate being indirectly reminded. "I did not expect things to get moving so quickly."
"Our old friend has been busy these past two years, it seems."
Dryanna snorted, acid tingling at the back of her throat. "While we sat around thinking the world was saved and our problems gone."
"Perhaps we should be grateful that Corypheus proved more powerful than Solas anticipated," Leliana said darkly.
Dryanna's head snapped toward her, disbelieving. "What do you mean?"
Leliana met her stare, eyes hard and glittering. "If not for Corypheus, Solas would have destroyed the world outright, without a single person knowing the better."
She was right, of course. Solas had admitted it himself, but it proved to be a bitter truth to swallow.
"Never thought I'd be thanking a crazy, ancient, Tevinter Magister made of red lyrium and delusion." She said, deflecting her true feelings deftly with sarcasm.
Leliana made a faint noise of amusement, then: "I must ask, my lady, do you have a plan? I confess… I find myself at a loss." Dryanna could hear how difficult it was for her former Spymaster to admit her helplessness, and she understood the feeling all too well.
Dryanna leaned against the wall, watching the torch flames dance for a moment before speaking. "I'm not sure I would call it a plan, but I have some ideas… a sense of what we must do."
"And… that is?"
Dryanna drew a breath, steeling herself, before meeting the other woman's stare. She wasn't quite ready to divulge all her ideas, most of her thoughts were merely that -thoughts, hopes, half truths that needed more to form into fully fledged concepts. "We have to prove to Solas that this world is one worth saving. We have to lift up the elves and rebuild their kingdom."
"Ahhhh," Leliana said slowly, looking away with a deeply furrowed brow. "So, it will be simple then."
Dryanna snorted humorlessly. "Precisely."
She pushed away from the wall and moved toward the closest of the Eluvians, reaching out instinctively to touch its lightless surface before stopping herself just in time. She could feel a tingle of energy, like a surge of recognition, and it made her skin crawl.
There are many keys, the Well whispered. You merely need to know where to look.
"We'll begin in the Dales. We've more gold and influence than we know what to do with. It will go a long way into rebuilding."
She heard Leliana shift slightly, felt the pressure of her stare. "Forgive me, my lady, but would it not be easier to hunt Solas down ourselves, stop him that way? What you suggest, well, it may prove impossible."
Dryanna smirked and it felt sharp and dangerous on her face, her fingers still lingering just away from the Eluvian. "Closing the Breach was meant to be impossible, defeating Corypheus doubly so, and Solas… Fen'Harel's power makes an ancient Tevinter Magister look like a child with a dangerous toy." He'd frozen the Qunari with a wave of his hand. She turned toward Leliana. "And he is not wrong, not entirely. This world is broken, and my people do deserve better. They most certainly deserve the truth. I believe that our best hope is to convince him that there is value in this world. That there are things worth saving."
Since I was not enough, the shards of her heart whispered.
Leliana's eyes grew sharp for a moment, her mind clearly turning through all their options at a lightning speed, before she nodded slowly. "You have never led us astray, my lady. Though I confess that I am… uneasy with this plan. But the Maker brought you to us, and I will not turn away from his hand. Where do we start?"
Dryanna forced herself to close the distance and pressed her bare hand to the surface of the mirror. It was warm and slithering to the touch, but she did not flinch away. "We start with the Eluvians, and a very old library, which lies somewhere between our world and the Fade. There are answers there, information that will be vital if we are to have any hope of discovering his plans. In the meantime we speak to Celene, review the old treaties before the Exalted March, see how we might rebuild the Dales."
Leliana moved away. "Very well, I will have Josie start digging." A stretch of silence as she moved toward the door, then: "You must let him go, Dryanna. He is beyond our reach now. I… know what it is to lose someone to a cause beyond understanding or logic, but we must do what has to be done." Leliana placed a hand briefly on her shoulder. "Like you always have."
Dryanna bit her lip to contain a sob, listening to the sound of receding footsteps, and rested her forehead against the Eluvian for a long while.
"Why have you gone where I cannot follow, vehnan?"
When she finally made it back to her rooms, most of her chests and packs already full in preparation for a much desired departure, she found a note sealed closed with a raven's feather on her pillow.
Feeling a shiver trepidation, Dryanna fumbled it open with her hand, the feather fluttering to the ground unseen as she read the contents.
Follow the trail through the Crossroads, I have some information you might find interesting. You'll find the key next to my favorite wine.
-M
Heart pounding, Dryanna crumbled the note and tossed it into the dying embers of the hearth fire. She watched the edges crinkle and burn, motionless until the secret was consumed and gone. It was near dawn before she finally went to bed.
"I've given the patents of nobility to your Ambassador, as well as the documents required to officially grant you governance of Griffin Wing Keep, under certain limitations, of course," Ambassador Montford said cheerily, sliding a very official bit of parchment at Dryanna across his desk. It was mid day and they'd been at it for hours already, Dryanna's patience stretching thinner with each passing moment.
"If you could sign here, the official process of granting you and your successors Skyhold might begin."
Dryanna glanced at Josie who nodded slightly, and signed. Montford snatched it up with a flourish, rolled it carefully, and then pressed it shut with the official seal of Orlais.
"As soon as Her Majesty returns, the official ceremony shall be held, and your seat among the Council of Heralds made official." Dryanna wondered idly how many times the man had said 'offical' since their meeting had begun.
"When is the Empress expected to return?" Dryanna asked, fiddling with the end of her sash. Gods, she was anxious, ready to finally return to Skyhold and beyond tired of diplomatic meetings. There was so much to do before winter, and she had an entire army to disband.
"Her Majesty is expected to return in six weeks-"
"Six weeks?" Josie asked, brows rising. "We were told two."
Montford smiled and it didn't reach his eyes. "There have been extenuating circumstances."
Dryanna frowned leaning forward in her chair. "I hope the Empress is well."
The Ambassador waved a dismissive hand. "Oh yes, of course. Have no fear, Your Grace, all is in place while we await her return. All that is missing is the pageantry."
Gods, to the Void with pageantry, she thought.
"About the other matter we discussed…" Josie hinted.
Monford looked suddenly grave. "We cannot be sure Ambassador Briala will not return."
"It has been half a year, my lord," Josie reminded him politely.
"The Empress believes-"
"The Empress is wrong," Dryanna snapped, unable to help herself. She could feel Josie's scandalized stare boring into her. Dryanna ignored her. "We haven't time to wait her out any longer, already the servants are disappearing. You need someone to rally the People before it is too late."
Ambassador Montford fixed her with a penetrating stare. Beneath all the pleasantry and evasion, was an intelligent man, she knew, she only hoped she could make him see reason. After a long stretch of silence, in which she could feel Josie's discomfort growing, the man nodded.
"Very well, I will be sure to personally write to the Empress addressing your concerns. There will be a meeting of the Council after the official ceremony for your seat is held, I imagine the topic might be broached then."
Dryanna rose to her feet, muscles itching to flee.
"Thank you, Lord Montford, your help and support has been invaluable," she said, feeling faintly proud of herself. Once upon a time all this empty pleasantry and veiled lying had been difficult for her. Wouldn't her mother be proud? To see her adapting so beautifully to shem ways. There was a sudden sick lurch of her gut, and she told herself that someday… someday she would no longer have to play this pretty game of false smiles and hidden blades.
The Orlesian Ambassador rose to his feet, executing a perfect bow. "It was a pleasure, Your Grace, and we look forward to your return."
She and Joise left while Dryanna wondered if that too, was a lie.
"I dream of him, sometimes," Dryanna said suddenly, filling the silence of the carriage as it jostled along. The Winter Palace was several hours behind them and she finally felt as though she could breathe again.
Cassandra turned her head toward her. The Seeker was returning with them to Skyhold to gather her things before departing for the Hinterlands, and Dryanna had the sneaking suspicion that Cass was worried about her. They were all concerned, of course. She could feel them watching her carefully, looking for signs of breakage or weakness, and it rankled as much as it comforted. It was nice to be cared about, but she didn't want to be treated like a breakable bit of glass, even if that was exactly how she felt.
"A wolf in the distance, watching me. Sometimes I reach out to him, but always he turns and runs. I didn't understand what it meant before… but now…" she trailed off, watching the trees flit past as bright sunlight filtered through heavy branches. Autumn was still several months off, but Skyhold was almost always shrouded in snow, and she hoped that the winter would be kinder than the last.
Two years had seen a major uptick in population, a town sprouting beneath the castle almost overnight. Tents and barracks giving way to homes and shops, there was even a Chantry cathedral in the final stages of construction. Just last year they'd opened a mine surprisingly rich with gold, silver, and silverite, and there was talking of opening another. They'd also had a great deal of luck with cattle, and Skyhold being the center of the Inquisition had brought a great deal of trade and progress to the area, especially in light of the finished pass. It was quickly becoming to best way to travel between Orlais and Ferelden. Dryanna only hoped that the disbanding of the Inquisition wouldn't destroy their steadily budding economy, though it was likely a foolish hope.
"He loves you still, then." Cassandra whispered, a statement, not a question. Words Dryanna didn't want to hear, or even consider.
It was unlike her friend to ride in a carriage, just as it was unlike Dryanna to want to, but she hadn't quite been able to master one-armed horseback riding in her time at the palace and the private shame of it had driven her within the gilded monstrosity Josie -who was currently riding with Leliana in another carriage- had insisted on. She suspected Cassandra had joined her for moral support, which she appreciated.
"Does it matter?" Dryanna asked, hearing the flat tone of her voice, barely feeling the words as they slipped off her tongue. She could see Thom just ahead, speaking with one of the soldiers and smiling cheerfully. It was good to see him smile, they'd been so rare after his true name had been revealed, and she was glad he hadn't decided to leave them –her- yet, though she suspected it was coming.
"Of course it matters," Cassandra said impatiently. "It may be the only thing that matters."
Dryanna receded into the cushions and out of the sun. "It didn't matter before, why would it matter now."
Cassandra was silent for a stretch, her lips pursed and her brow furrowed in thought. When she spoke at last, her words were careful.
"Solas always had the look of a man on the edge of something. I didn't understand at the time, though Maker knows I wish I had, but I always knew it had something to do with you. He would look at you sometimes with such sadness, as though he was warring with himself about something, and it was breaking him apart inside. I think… I think he nearly gave his plot up for you on several occasions, in retrospect. I could see it in the way he was occasionally more there than others, which is not very descriptive I know, but I can think of no better way to explain it. And then, well, then I would watch him pull away again."
Gods, it hurt to hear, and she gripped the edge of her seat to contain her agony. What did it matter how he had looked at her? It hadn't changed anything.
"He would never let his feelings for me detract from his duty, he made that very clear," she ground out, the world outside the carriage blurring as her eyes stung. She refused to cry. She had shed too many tears at his memory and she refused to give him more.
"I think you're wrong," Cassandra said sternly. "I think he runs from you because every second he spends with you is another step closer to giving up the path he is on. Maybe… maybe a part of him is hoping you can change his mind."
Dryanna rubbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. "I hope you're right Cassandra. It would make this much easier if you were."
Cassandra's smile was sardonic and she looked back out the window, settling into her seat. "I never claimed it would be easy."
"It never is, is it?"
"My brother used to say that nothing worth having is ever easy," Cassandra said quietly. She rarely, if ever spoke of her brother and Dryanna smiled despite herself.
"Your brother was a wise man."
Cassandra snorted. "He was stubborn, bullheaded, and cocky, but he did occasionally get something right."
"Sounds like someone else I know," Dryanna muttered, and dodged a gold stitched cushion.