Author's note: Hello, everyone. I just wanted to put it out there that the next chapter might be about a week late. I will be on a four-day trip (Thursday through Sunday) this weekend, and I won't have access to my computer. As I'd like to keep with the pattern of posting on Tuesdays, I'd rather give myself an extra week than open myself up to posting my chapters on random days. Thank you guys for your understanding, and please enjoy the chapter.
Desire
The sun had set behind the trees of the forest, leaving streaks of deep purple and blue as the last remnants of light in the sky. The torches surrounding the Dalish camp had already been lit to combat the creeping shadows of the evening. Laughter and talk of the day's events could be heard throughout the grounds from around warm, welcoming campfires as Dalish men and women settled in with their dinner and drinks. In the center of the encampment stood a rather large pavilion with ornate tapestries hanging atop posts on either side of the entrance, the heraldry of Clan Lavellan lovingly weaved into the center of them both. This was the home of Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel.
Outside the Keeper's pavilion, a young elf aged twelve years with tousled, cropped golden blonde hair and bright green eyes crept up to the closed tent entrance, completely unheard and unseen. She edged as closely as she could to the thick tent flap and listened intently to the voices within, knowing full well what they were discussing.
"It's too dangerous. I'm sorry, Nerel."
"Please, Keeper! There's got to be another way! She's our daughter, for Mythal's sake!"
The sobbing of a woman could be heard somewhere near the back of the pavilion as Uncle Nerel spoke. Aunt Sharanni was clearly in there with them, too overcome with tears to even contribute to the discussion. She had always been emotionally delicate.
"I do not have time to teach her to control her dreaming, and if she remains with that gift unchecked, it could put the entire clan in danger." Keeper Deshanna's voice became stern. "Furthermore, there are simply too many mages within our clan as it is. I've tried to make an exception for your family when her magic awoke, but this is too much."
"But—"
"What else would you have me do, Nerel? You saw how Alassiel looked when your niece carried her back to camp. If Pryswyn hadn't brought her back when she did, your daughter would be an abomination by now. I know people within the Templar order who can help. They are good men who can take her to a respectable circle; she can get an education and learn to control her gifts."
"Can we not even try to—"
"It's this or Tranquility, Nerel! And I will not have one of my own subjected to such an atrocious ordeal, nor will I simply cast her out of the clan. Listen to me, my friend. This is best for everyone."
Best? Pryswyn thought with spite as she balled her hands into fists so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Best for you, maybe. Get rid of the problem child because you can't handle the responsibility! Send her away so she'll be out of sight and out of mind! She's my cousin, my sister, my one and only friend, and you're giving up on her? I can't let you! I won't!
The young elf straightened up and was about to rip open the pavilion's entrance flap when the sound of soft sobbing behind her stopped her in her tracks. Her heart caught in her throat, and she slowly turned around to see the source of the ghostly weeping. It was Alassiel. Not the ten-year-old child who was fast asleep in her parents' tent at so late an hour, but the woman she would become. She had the straight cut bangs that framed her brows and short bob, and even wore the red silk velvet blouse and black skirt with gold trim that she would own in the future, but how did Pryswyn know this?
Her head was in a fog of confusion until Alassiel spoke. "R-Rue?" she cried meekly.
The young elf gripped her head in surprise as she was hit with the sudden realization of who she was. Her name was Rue now, and she had been Rue for nearly ten years. She wasn't twelve like the size of her body would suggest, but an adult. This wasn't real; it was a vision of her past brought to her by the ring. She had been sucked into her memory so completely that she had momentarily lost her knowledge of the present.
Frightening though that realization was, the sight of her cousin crying helplessly was even more disconcerting. "Alassiel, what's happening to you?" Rue asked, taking a step toward her distraught cousin. "Tell me what's going on, please!"
"Rue, I can't—I don't have time," she stammered as fast as she could, shakily wiping her tear-streaked face with her hands. "It—it knows I'm awake! Please, don't let it take your ring! The ring keeps it out, and it knows that now. Rue, it's not—"
Alassiel suddenly gasped in shock, her eyes wide with fright, as though she had been stabbed by an unseen assailant. Immediately after, she dropped straight to the ground like a ragdoll that had been carelessly tossed aside. Horrified, Rue ran to her aid, but Alassiel's body vanished before she could reach her. Rue was left alone in the still and silent camp, her desperate panting the only sound that could be heard.
She collapsed onto her knees where her cousin fell, head spinning. She's awake, the ring keeps "it" out…what does any of that mean? Rue tried to make sense of Alassiel's words, but was soon distracted by a strange realization: She was still in her memory of the past. Alarmed, she scrambled to her feet and looked about. The encampment was eerily quiet now; no owls hooting in the distance, no chirping insects, and no casual voices carrying around the campfires. Silence.
She scoured the grounds, checking inside tents and around campfires for someone—anyone—but the camp was completely empty. Gazing around, she realized that the torches that lined the camp weren't flickering at all anymore, but rather frozen in place like a sculpture of flames. Rue approached one of the torches and extended her hand; it still gave off heat. "The hell is going on?" she asked out loud, half hoping for an answer.
"The memory was disrupted," said the familiar voice of a boy behind her. Rue spun around and saw Cole gazing curiously at a still campfire.
She had never been so happy to see that big, floppy hat of his in her whole life. "How did you get here?" Rue asked in disbelief as she approached him.
"I heard your pain," he admitted simply, squatting and reaching out to touch one of the flames that had frozen in mid-air. He pulled his hand back when he, like Rue, discovered that the fire was still rather hot. "It was so strange, so I came to help. Like in Therinfal. You go to strange places a lot, Rue."
Instead of responding to his last comment, the Inquisitor decided it was best to keep Cole's thoughts on track. "You said this memory was disrupted?"
He nodded, staring at her from underneath the large rim of his hat. He was, no doubt, curious about Rue's shorter, youthful form. "Spirits sculpt the Fade from thoughts and memories of people. Grown-up Alassiel didn't fit, so they were confused. That's why everyone's gone and everything's stopped." He returned his gaze to the curiously unmoving campfire. "I think she wanted that, though. She wanted you awake in your dream. She's…different here. Not like outside the Fade."
"Hold on," Rue put out her hand to interrupt Cole. "We're in the Fade right now?"
"Yes. Sort of. You're dreaming now. Except you're still awake. Back in the present, I'm standing beside you and holding your hand—well, your left hand. Your right hand is spinning your ring."
It baffled Rue how one person could make so much sense and yet so little. She rubbed her temples with her fingers while she attempted to properly piece together Cole's jigsaw puzzle of sentences. "And my ring is bringing me to these points in my memory for some reason…"
"No," Cole stated bluntly, standing up, "Alassiel brought you here. Your ring just helps you focus. She reached out and brought your focus here."
Rue stared up at him in surprise. "Alassiel did this? How? And how do you know?"
Without prompt or direction, Cole strode over to where Rue's cousin had been standing earlier. He brought his hands to his face and mimicked a crying motion. "I can hear her," he murmured so quietly that Rue almost didn't catch it. "Her thoughts bleed all around in this memory. There's…fear. For you, for herself." The boy went quiet for a moment and lowered his head, his half-gloved hands still covering his eyes. "Crying, calling, banging on walls that won't break. Someone help me. Someone stop it. Rue, please…It's not me!"
As Cole babbled the echoes of Alassiel's thoughts, a growing feeling of dread rose in Rue's stomach. More and more, the pieces were falling into place. The pleas for help in her visions; Alassiel's radically different behavior; her insistence that Cole, a spirit, be kept away from her…
"Gods, no," she whispered in horror as she gazed around the Lavellan encampment once more, seeing the quiet setting with a whole different perspective. How could she not have seen it? How could she have ignored it so thoroughly? "There was a reason she brought me here, to this memory in particular. She wanted to show me—she's been trying to show me since she showed up in Skyhold!"
Rue turned back to Cole, who stared at her with an expression of quiet intensity. He seemed to have made the same realization that she had. "There's a demon inside her," he said.
"We have to get out of here!" Rue's short form stormed over to the boy in a panic. "Snap me out of this, Cole! We need to find Alassiel!"
He nodded at her command and reached his hands out to either side of her head. She felt the boy's fingers gently brush her temples, and the two made sharp eye contact. He gave one more nod before whispering, "Wake up." In a head rush that lasted only a blink, Rue was back in Skyhold's tavern, leaning over the second-story banister, her left hand firmly in Cole's grip.
She allowed herself only a moment to recover mentally before making her way around the walkway and down the stairs with Cole in tow. Having not fully reoriented herself to her adult body, her movements were clumsy, and she nearly fell flat on her face after tripping on the last step. She managed to save herself by grabbing onto a support pillar at the foot of the stairs.
The tavern was still packed, and The Iron Bull was still curling tavern maids as he had been earlier, indicating that time hadn't really passed at all while Rue's mind was in the Fade. She had considered calling on Iron Bull for help, but he was deep into his cups at that point (the maids seemed to be rather drunk as well), and the last thing the situation needed was the attention and panic of everyone in the building. No, Rue knew the situation would need to be handled as discreetly as possible. Straightening herself up and adjusting her lavender mercenary jacket, Rue proceeded out the door in as calm a manner as possible; their first order of business would be to locate Solas.
"You're absolutely certain? Being a circle mage, she should have gone through her Harrowing, theoretically making her impervious to possession."
"I know what I saw and heard, Solas. The signs have been right in front of me the entire time she's been here, and I ignored it. I'm not sure if it knows that we know, but it is aware that Alassiel is trying to fight."
"She's so scared. She begs to be free," Cole piped up while frantically pacing back and forth beside the Inquisitor. "We have to help her."
Rue and Cole had found Solas in the lower study of the tower's library, an area he claimed as his own. The rounded walls were partially coated with an elaborate fresco that the elven apostate had been painting in his spare time. It currently depicted the founding of the Inquisition, the conscription of the rogue Templars at Therinfal Redoubt, and Rue's encounter with Corypheus and Haven's subsequent destruction.
Solas, who had been sitting comfortably in his armchair with a bit of light reading for the evening, closed his volume of in-depth Chantry history and rose to his feet. "If this is the case, then we shouldn't waste any time. It may lash out if it feels that its façade is threatened." He strode with conviction from his desk in the center of the rounded room to a smaller table against the wall across from him. Leaning against it was a magnificent-looking staff made of dark polished oak wood and topped with a smooth, spherical blue jewel.
"Tell me," he said as he took his staff in his hands, "do you know what sort of demon we are dealing with?"
Rue shook her head grimly, but figured the fidgety spirit might have an inkling. "Do you have any insight for us, Cole?"
"The cellar," came a sudden whispered reply, in a tone that suggested an epiphany had just taken place.
"Come again?" she said, looking curiously beside her for an explanation. The boy was no longer by her, nor was he anywhere in the study. He had vanished as soon as he spoke. Rue put her hand to her forehead in exasperation. "Damnit Cole…Did he say 'the cellar'?"
"At a guess," said Solas as he and the Inquisitor made their hurried way out of the study and into the Great Hall, "I'd say he's discovered the whereabouts of your cousin. We must hurry; a demon that possesses a mage is likely to be a powerful one, and Cole won't be able to face it on his own."
Silent footfalls fell swiftly down flights of stone steps. Cloaked in shadow, Cole wound his way into the deep cellars of Skyhold, where the wine, ale, and spirits were stored to keep them cool. He listened intently for the angry voice he had heard earlier in Solas' study. Believing to be completely alone, Alassiel—or rather, the demon wearing her skin—left her mind wide open for him to hear. It was like listening to someone ranting loudly from another room.
Cole turned a corner into a long hallway lined with large wooden casks, each bearing a small bronze plaque detailing different flavors of whiskey and scotch, and slowed his gait to a careful crawl. At the end of the stone hallway was a closed wooden door. The demon's fuming inner voice emanated strongly from within.
That's why! That's why! That ring is keeping me out! I should have known from the start…How could you—you little brat!
There was a sudden sound of glass shattering and liquid spilling onto the ground, making Cole jump on the other side of the door. The demon had chucked a bottle of wine across the room in a fit of rage.
Your barrier keeps her from loving me—from loving only me! How selfish of you…I have to take it from her. If there's no ring, there's no barrier—nothing to stop me from reaching her. I will have her. She will love me…
Cole had heard enough; now he knew what he was dealing with. Inside the small stone office, the demon posing as Alassiel paced back and forth, chewing harshly on the knuckle of her right index finger in thought. Her vision was illuminated by only two small candles that flickered in the corner on a nearby desk. They cast her frantic shadow on the surrounding walls while she continued to ponder.
I will do it tonight, then. While she sleeps, I will take the ring. I will wait no longer. Rue, you will love me.
"Desire," murmured Cole's voice from behind her, just as she realized there was an accompanying shadow flickering upon the walls.
Alassiel's body went rigid, her hands clenching into fists so tightly that her arms shook. "You," she hissed with such spite that it was almost a whisper. She slowly turned about to face the spirit of Compassion that had hounded her for nearly the entire week she had been at Skyhold. Her usually fair and delicate features were contorted into a horrific snarl of rage. She absolutely hated Cole, and he could feel it all by simply looking at her face.
His bright blue eyes never faltered, however, and he continued to gaze at the possessed young elf sharply. "Haunting and hurting, you hold this girl against her will." He pointed an accusing finger in Desire's direction, his voice sharp and cold, like bitter winter wind. "You tricked her so that you could take her body, her love for her family twisted against her, mangled to suit your whims, your wants. You would hurt people to get your way, but I won't let you."
Eyes still locked with Alassiel's, Cole carefully slid a small dagger out from its sheath on his belt. He was unsure how he would engage the demon, but he knew he couldn't let her leave, not before Rue and Solas arrived.
Before he could even make a proper defensive stance, however, Alassiel had raised a hand in his direction, and his breath caught in his chest as he felt an icy sheet cover and paralyze him. Cole's whole body was rigid from the cold, completely unable to move. The demon's expression had gone from rage to pure, sickening satisfaction when she saw the new look of shock on the boy's face. Cocking her head to one side with glee, she slowly clenched her hand into a fist. As she did so, Cole felt his lower extremities go numb, and an even thicker layer of ice began to coat him; it started at his feet and spread up into his legs.
"You have been a thorn in my side since my first day here," she said with distain as she drew closer to the freezing boy, circling him like a vulture circles a soon-to-be meal. "When I first laid eyes on you and realized what you were, I knew I would have to get rid of you in some way."
Cole's breathing grew fast and shallow with fear as he lost feeling in his legs entirely. The ice was clawing its way up through his abdomen now. He tried to call for help, but his throat was frozen and unable to produce any sound beyond faint wheezing.
Desire heard the boy's weak whimper and laughed. "Poor Compassion," she taunted as ice began to cover Cole's fingers. She cupped Alassiel's dainty hands around his pale, frightened face and leaned in. "I'll bet you came in here, thinking 'I'll help her, I'll save her, I'll make it all better'. It must be embarrassing to be so single-minded."
Cole experienced a panic he hadn't felt since being locked away in the cupboard on the "bad day" when the ice climbed up into his lungs, freezing them and stopping his breathing.
He was going to die.
Nearly all feeling was gone now, and his vision began to go dark as he slowly suffocated. "I think it's time to send you home," he heard Desire whisper almost sweetly in his ear as the magical ice traveled up his neck, burning like tiny daggers in this throat. "But how shall I do it, hmm? I think…shattered into a thousand bloody shards, like beautiful crimson snowflakes."
Cole could barely see her cackling form as she positioned herself in front of him and extended her hand once more. Having lost all feeling and all hope of being rescued, his consciousness rapidly slipping away, he prepared himself for the horrific death she had in mind.
Moments passed. Nothing happened.
Then, a wave of pure relief washed over the barely conscious boy as he felt the sensation of ice slowly melting from his throat and shoulders. He gasped loudly for air once his lungs were freed, and as his vision cleared ever so slightly, he saw the demon's outstretched arm shaking as she fought a losing battle to keep Cole encased in his frozen tomb. Her teeth were clenched out of concentration, her eyes displayed both alarm and ire, and blood began to trickle from her nose.
Cole could feel a spark of resistance within Alassiel's body. She was awake again, and trying desperately to break out of her prison within the Fade. There was resolve yet within her, a will to survive, to be free; she wasn't going to let the demon use her magic to kill an innocent young man. Feeling returned to Cole's feet and hands, but the paralyzing effect of Desire's first spell kept him firmly rooted to the spot.
"Fine!" Desire finally cried shrilly, throwing her arm back down as though she had ended a heated argument with someone. This dispelled her grip on Cole, and his weakened body collapsed to the cold stone floor, his hat landing next to him with an audible clang. He coughed and struggled for consciousness as the slender form of Alassiel stood over him menacingly. "I don't have time for this, anyway," she spat as her body twitched sporadically.
The more Alassiel struggled, the more the demon had to concentrate to put her back to sleep, and the more control over her human host she lost.
She knelt down slowly and picked up Cole's little black dagger with trembling fingers. Her eyes were wild as she stared at the helpless form at her feet, appearing to contemplate whether or not to plunge the dagger into his belly. Before she could decide, however, the sound of rapid footsteps could be heard from the end of the hall.
"Cole!" cried the voice of Rue as the steps grew louder. "Are you still down here? Are you all right?"
The steady stream of frustrations appeared to be shredding any remnants of composure the demon had. Her shoulders shook as a quiet chuckled escaped her lips. This chuckle quickly escalated into a desperate, hysterical cackle. Cole watched from the ground as she wiped the blood from her nose onto her red sleeve and hid his knife behind her back.
She brought a finger to her lips and said "Shh," while a painfully wide grin spread across her face. She looked completely insane.
Rue and Solas abruptly stopped their search for Cole—about halfway down the hallway lined with wooden casks—when they heard the sudden sound of a door handle turning. It startled them both, and they eyed the wooden door at the end of the hall intently as it slowly pushed open with an unpleasant creaking of its old hinges. The twitching form of Alassiel emerged from the dark room, unnerving smile stretching the branch-like blood markings under her eyes in a horrifying manner, and her right hand behind her back.
"There you are, Rue," she said, clearly making an effort to subdue the tremors in her voice. "I was…wondering where you were."
Rue gritted her teeth and aggressively stepped forward. "Drop the charade, demon!" she cried, outraged that this thing dared to continue lying to her. "We know what you are now, and I think you've worn my cousin's skin long enough!"
Alassiel's body trembled, and she let her arm fall limp her at her side, revealing the small black dagger she was gripping. "You wouldn't say such things," she whispered as she slowly hung her head, "if you'd just let me in." She took her own step forward, but it was clumsy and stiff, like a marionette controlled by a young child.
"Inquisitor, that dagger belongs to Cole," Solas stated in alarm when he saw it. "What have you done with him?" His voice rang louder down the hall at the possessed elf.
She didn't answer, content to only babble under her breath while staring unblinkingly at Rue, ambling even closer. "…To say such things…I only want you to love me…only me…If I can't have you…"
Rue's whole body went hot with panic. If the demon kept pressing them…gods, she couldn't kill her own cousin. She couldn't! She wished to Mythal that she had at least brought her fighting daggers with her. Perhaps she could have presented herself as a threat to keep the demon at a distance while they thought of a plan to subdue her. As it stood, however, all she had was Solas, and there was always a chance that it could overcome his magic.
"Answer us, thing!" she commanded, trying to sound as calm as possible. "Where is Cole?"
"I'm here!" came the young man's strained voice as he stumbled out of the room and supported himself against the doorframe. "It's a desire demon! Rue, it wants you!"
At this revelation, the thing inside Alassiel broke into another fit of hysterical laughter, halting her stride toward Rue and instead freezing the air around her left palm into a glowing orb of cold energy. "If I can't have you, Rue…then…I suppose no one can."
At the sight of the forming radiant energy, Solas threw his arm out in preparation for the oncoming assault. Rue braced herself beside him. Before their eyes, however, the orb in Alassiel's hand gradually diminished in size and brightness, much to Desire's dismay. When it vanished from her hand in a gentle puff of frost, the demon shrieked and doubled over, clawing at her face.
"She won't let you hurt us with her magic," Cole said sternly from the doorway, picking out the young elf's feelings within the chaotic quagmire of Desire's ranting rage.
What happened next made Rue's blood run cold. The irrevocably infuriated demon raised the dagger in its right hand and plunged it straight through Alassiel's left. There was a shrill cry of pain, followed by the words, "Just…go…back…to sleep!"
Rue screamed in horror at what just happened as Alassiel's blood ran down her wrist, soaked into the sleeves of her silk shirt, and even dripped onto the grey stone floor. She tried to run to her cousin, but Solas grabbed her wrist to hold her back.
"Don't! She's breaking down, and in this state, there's no telling what she'll do!"
"I can't just leave her to be mutilated by that thing!" Rue shouted back, fighting Solas' grip. Alassiel resumed her insane cackling, spurring her cousin to pull even harder against him.
"For all we know, it's just trying to manipulate you into coming to her!" The apostate held fast against Rue's struggling, grey eyes flashing with frustration at her stubbornness. "This is a lesser Desire demon; it will kill you to get even a fraction of the solace of power and ownership over you, if it has to!"
"But—"
Rue didn't get a chance to finish arguing, because Cole picked that moment to put an end to Desire's unhinged antics. The demon didn't notice the pale blonde boy creep up behind her, and he laced his arms around hers and behind her head with ease, kicking her feet out from under her and sending them both to the floor. Poised over her flailing, thrashing form, his knee pressed firmly into her back and one hand keeping her head to the floor, Cole wrenched his dagger out of Alassiel's grip with the other hand and held its point at the nape of her neck.
"Cole, don't!" Rue pleaded with an outstretched hand, unsure of what he was going to do next.
He gave her an expressionless stare through his long, blonde bangs. His hair clung to his head where his hat normally rested. "What do we do now?"
The three didn't even have time to breathe; Alassiel's entire form turned white as snow and slipped out from underneath Cole like a blizzard, billowing swiftly past Rue and Solas and down the hall. She regained her solid form just before disappearing around the corner, leaving the two rogues and mage in shock. After a moment of processing what had just happened, the three of them gave chase.
Rue, Cole, and Solas tore through the empty kitchen and down the stairs toward Skyhold's stables, their ears strained for signs of hysterical laughter. What they instead heard were voices of concern, along with grunting and cursing.
"Someone hurts," Cole murmured as they ran into the lower courtyard. They slowed their gait to a walk when they saw a small group of soldiers and chantry sisters surrounding someone slumped on a bale of hay near Skyhold's large entryway.
As they approached, Rue gasped to see the person on the hay bale was Blackwall. He was gritting his teeth and cradling his left arm, which appeared to have been gashed open from his bicep to the middle of his forearm, judging by the way his blood blossomed through his gambeson.
"Blackwall!" Rue cried, pushing her way through the crowd.
"Away with you! Everyone!" Solas commanded, ushering the onlookers away with his arm and staff. "We will handle this."
The crowd reluctantly dispersed, leaving the four alone by the gate. While Solas knelt down to examine the wound, Blackwall spoke up.
"Inquisitor, it was your cousin…I don't know what's got into her, but…damn…" He grimaced in pain as Solas gently pulled his arms straight to get a better look.
"This wound seems fairly deep. What did she cut you with?" Solas inquired, looking up at him.
"It's dark, Solas," Blackwall answered with blunt sarcasm, indicating the torches above them and the scant light around them, "and I didn't expect her to suddenly lunge at me when I approached her. If I had to guess, I'd say it was a kitchen knife."
"Where did she go?" Rue asked.
"After she lost her damn mind, she ran out of the gate," he answered, giving her a pained look. "What's going on, Inquisitor?"
Rue licked her dry lips and glanced about. It was late in the evening, and the courtyard was completely empty. Even so, out in the open was hardly a place to discuss this, and Blackwall needed medical attention.
"Let's get you to the infirmary," she said. "There are…things I need to confess to you—to all of you."
