Where it Hurts
Lavellan-
What was it Cole said? Something like this:
"The humor helps but doesn't heal. Making it silly makes it smaller, but only for a second. You blink and it's back, black and biting. 'You're doing well,' the Seeker says. You smile, but inside you think she's lying."
Yeah. It was kind of like that.
-excerpt from the Journal of Yvelle Lavellan
The Hinterlands
Varric-
After cleaving our way through hordes of angry templars and apostates, we finally reached the Crossroads. "So Leliana really thinks this Mother Giselle is going to be sympathetic?" Yvelle asked, watching the Chantry sisters cautiously as they moved about the camp.
"She says it is worth a try. We cannot go forward with everyone in the Chantry denouncing us, we need allies. Especially among the faithful," Cassandra walked beside her, about a pace ahead, as if subtly urging her forward.
"Mm… I don't know, I feel like this is going to end in disaster. And all this Herald stuff is creepy. I don't really like being worshiped."
I chuckled at that. "You don't know how reassuring that is, Twigs."
"Regardless of what you believe, letting people think you are the Herald of Andraste can help earn us support, which is desperately needed." Yvelle said this was essentially lying, and Cassandra sighed. "Is it lying if it comes from multiple people, some of whom believe and some of whom do not?"
"Sort of? It's a partial lie, anyway."
"Then I suppose you'll just have to be a partial liar for now, Lavellan. Now I believe that is her -try not to get too excited." Cassandra gestured toward a taller, dark-skinned woman in Chantry robes. Yvelle groaned, but went anyway. We followed her, keeping back so as not to disrupt.
"You must be Mother Giselle," Yvelle said, knit brow and wrinkled nose betraying her discomfort.
"I am. And you must be the one they're calling the Herald of Anraste."
"Yeah, well not through any choice of mine."
That made Mother Giselle chuckle. It was a polite chuckle of course, very modest. "We seldom have much say in our fate, I'm sad to say."
"You… agree with them?"
"I don't presume to know the Maker's intentions, for any of us. But I did not ask you to come simply to debate with me."
Yvelle narrowed her eyes- she knew that was a non-answer. "Then why am I here?" Mother Giselle nodded toward a walkway and Lavellan followed, looking stiff and uncomfortable beside a Chantry layperson.
"I know of the Chantry's denouncement, and I'm familiar with those behind it. Some of them are grandstanding, hoping to increase their chances of becoming the new Divine. But some are simply terrified. So many good people, senselessly taken from us."
"That's an excuse? They're making things worse."
"They don't know that. This is my point. Go to them, convince the remaining clerics you are no demon to be feared. They have heard only frightful tales of you. Give them something else to believe."
"They want to execute me! You think I should just walk up to them?"
Mother Giselle kept her voice even, gentle. "You are no longer alone. They cannot imprison or attack you."
"They could try…"
"Let me put it this way: you needn't convince them all. You just need some of them to doubt. Their power is their unified voice. Take that from them, and you receive the time you need."
Yvelle thought this over for a moment while chewing on her bottom lip. "You make it sound simple," she said finally, starting to relent.
"I honestly don't know if you've been touched by fate or sent to help us… but I hope." She paused dramatically before continuing. "Hope is what we need now. The people will listen to your rallying call, as they will listen to no other. You could build the Inquisition into a force that will deliver us or destroy us. I will go to Haven and provide Sister Leliana the names of those in the Chantry who would gather with you. It is not much, but I will do whatever I can." She turned and walked away, leaving the Herald standing on the steps, overlooking the Crossroads.
-excerpt from The Official Story of Inquisitor Lavellan, as Told by Those Closest to Her by Varric Tethras
Cassandra-
I admit, the meeting with Mother Giselle went much better than I'd hoped. Lavellan did not call her a shemlen once, and was surprisingly civil when discussing the Chantry. Still, I confess that I emphasized to Leliana the importance of finding someone more suitable for the role of Inquisitor afterward. She told me she was trying.
We did not leave the Hinterlands right away. Lavellan wanted to find Master Dennet (whom she referred to as "the horse guy"), and there were several rifts we thought should be closed as soon as possible. We also needed to deal with the threat of the rogue templars, which proved relatively easy. Lavellan was a remarkable archer, and she fit in well with Varric. At one point she started asking him about Bianca, which he seemed to appreciate a great deal.
We were near one of our camps, her leading and discussing the advantage of different ranged techniques with Varric, when suddenly she stopped. "Wait," she stood completely still and crouched slightly. "There's a bear here."
"Is that a problem for you, Herald?" I asked her.
She seemed to shrink into herself a little. "No! Er-" her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. "I just- well, they're very fearsome. And… one time when I was hunting one of my friends got mauled to death by one in front of me." The entire last sentence came out very quickly, like she was ashamed to admit it.
"Well, shit, Twigs, no wonder you don't like them," Varric said with a laugh.
"Varric, I do not think this is a laughing matter!" I thought it sounded horrible. Bears can be savage and violent creatures, and I could not imagine how terrible it must have been to see your friend killed by one.
"No, it's… it was a long time ago. I was… fourteen? Fifteen? Ugh… Makes my stomach churn."
"Herald, I do not mean to make you uncomfortable, but don't Dalish clans live in the forest? How can you live in the woods and be so afraid of bears?" I asked her. It was an honest question. I knew very little of the Dalish, and I'd hoped to learn more from her.
"Ah, well, most clans do, I suppose, live in more forested places. But Clan Lavellan is really more of a plains clan. There aren't many bears, but we see them often enough to know we need to be afraid." She shook her head and sighed. "I suppose if we're going to be here, around bears, for a while, then I just… ought to get used to them." She shivered a little, and I do not recall it being very cold that day.
-excerpt from The Official Story of Inquisitor Lavellan, as Told by Those Closest to Her by Cassandra Pentaghast
The Way to Wycome
Cassandra-
Lavellan did not speak much as we sailed north. Occasionally she would ask how close we were, and I heard her tell Solas she was fine when he tried to comfort her. Without her typical banter the trip was largely silent, save for Dorian's retching off the rear of the ship.
"She is already hurting," Solas said quietly. I gave him space to sit beside me on the bench I'd claimed. He stood for a while, staring toward the shore, before eventually sitting down. "Have you tried speaking with her?"
I nodded. "Once, as we were leaving. She said she was fine, and that there wasn't anything I could do for her."
He sighed softly. "I heard the same." He glanced toward the back of the ship and opened his mouth, but I cut him off.
"We should be grateful Dorian is even here. If he tries to talk to her he'll vomit, and neither of them will appreciate that."
"That is true, I suppose." We both fell quiet for a long time. Occasionally he would look over at her, and see she hadn't moved. Her eyes were locked on the horizon, the coattail of her armor flowing in the wind. Her dark red hair blew across her face, and every once in awhile she would reach up to fix it. "Do you ever… fear for her, Seeker?"
I looked at him curiously. "How do you mean?"
"She is your Herald. The Inquisitor. Yet she is young and inexperienced, and throws herself into danger more often than not." I said nothing, and he continued. "She is always falling off of hills and eating strange plants. She sets mines that explode dangerously close to her. Two weeks ago, she told the Bull to throw her while they were fighting a dragon. iPhysically/i throw her."
"I was there, Solas. I remember."
"Does it not concern you? To know how little regard she has for her own safety? She's the leader of the Inquisition, and she just- and then this… whatever comes of this, I fear she will return to Skyhold a different person." He shook his head. "I have never seen her so… despondent. It must worry you, Seeker. She is always able to laugh, even after Haven, even after what happened at the Conclave. Yet now she just…"
"Solas?" I said, looking at him. He paused, letting out a breath for whatever he had left to say. "I am not an expert, but it sounds like you are projecting."
"Is it wrong to be afraid for our leader?"
"No! Of course not. I do fear for her, Solas. She is a good woman, and we would be lost without her. But you seem to fear a lot more... and differently. Does she… know that?"
He said nothing for a moment, then, flatly: "there is nothing to know, Seeker."
I stared at him as he turned back to watch the shoreline, waiting for more. But ultimately he said nothing else. He simply stood and left to go below deck.
We were still a long way from Wycome. Eventually I decided to try again with Lavellan. I approached her cautiously, like she might run away, and leaned against the railing beside her. "Lavellan-"
"Stop," she looked at me, more serious than I'd ever seen her, and her eyes were red and tearful. "You can't fix this by talking. When someone takes so much from you, the only way to fix it is by taking even more back from them." I started to speak, but she kept going. "It's one thing to attack the people that are in your way. It's still bad, but it's forgivable. That's just how war is. When Gaspard's troops burned down a village in the Dirth, it's awful but it makes sense. You can justify that. But this?" She gestured to the shore and shook her head. "Why? To go out of your way to hurt innocent people just to send a message? That's evil, Cassandra. And when I get my hands on them, on the Venatori scum that did this…" She shook her head and looked up at me again, her eyes now cool and steeled. "I am going to make them suffer."
I hesitated a moment, then rested my hand on your shoulder. "Yvelle, you have every right to be angry. And if you want to find the men that did this, I will do everything in my power to see that you get your wish."
She smiled, but it was mirthless. "Good."
-excerpt from The Official Story of Inquisitor Lavellan, as Told by Those Closest to Her by Cassandra Pentaghast
