Chapter Four

Returning Again

[…live your life like there is no tomorrow…]

We left Stroud in the Fade. Alongside the Inquisitor and his friends, I jumped to safety with a heavy heart. The Grey Wardens as a bulwark against the darkspawn had been seriously compromised. For the first time in a long time, I was not uncertain what to say or think. A trip to Weisshaupt was clearly in order. I would need to send messages to Anders. Little Toddy would have to miss his mother for a few more weeks. Hopefully, Gran would be able to keep Anders and Toddy in warm clothing and food for a little while longer. Hopefully, no one had discovered Anders and the homestead. Hopefully, the Circles did not require anything serious of Anders - or me.

I sighed, ran my fingers through my long dark brown hair and realized that I would need a long bath to get all the grime out. The battle with the Grey Wardens had seemed to last an eternity.

Clarel. Stroud. All those Wardens. Dead.

The Inquisitor also seemed to have a lot on his mind, for the Dalish elf spoke little. His brilliant green eyes rested on me for a moment before moving onto his companions – the Tevinter mage, Dorian, and Solas.

"Well," Dorian said sardonically. "Let's not do that again."

"The Fade will not harm you." Solas brows furrowed at the Tevinter mage's joke, obviously a little annoyed.

The Inquisitor shook his head, "I agree with Dorian... It is nothing against the Fade itself, Solas. Rather, the fact that our potential allies – the Wardens - have not only been compromised but also made abettor to such a crime and plot… I would never have foreseen this. There is much we must do," the Inquisitor slung his mage's staff over his slender shoulder. "If we are to work with the Grey Wardens, we will need to bring them closer to us."

"I will go to Weisshaupt and attempt to discover what has happened there," I volunteered immediately. "I will send word of what I find – if there is anything left to find."

"It would behoove us to discover how the Wardens came to make this decision." Dorian twirled his staff elaborately before stowing it away, while winking at the Inquisitor and I. "It is unbelievable, but it happened. We need to know why."

I could feel my eyebrows climbing. The Dalish Inquisitor mage and a Tevinter human mage? I suppress a chuckle. If only Isabella and Anders were here…. Or Varric…

"Agreed." The Inquisitor sighed. "Ser Clarel seemed to believe that what she did was justified by need. An unfortunate set of events which led to the unthinkable."

"Humans and elves are often confronted with terrible choices," Solas murmured. "It is difficult to judge motivations, but in the Fade some of those emotions are made clear. Perhaps Ser Clarel's desire was only to protect Thedas… but if beneath her motivations lay Fear, then it was only a matter of time before the Wardens and their cause would be manipulated."

"Either way, if you don't mind, I would rather not go back to the Fade to sort it out," Dorian grunted. "Better if we just go the normal route and ask people questions. Surely some of the Wardens would have an idea as to how this happened."

"Everyone has a story they tell themselves to justify bad decisions..." I mused aloud. "…and it never matters. In the end, you are always alone in your actions."

Anders. Meredith. Cullen. Isabela. Fenris. Aveline. Even myself. We had all made difficult choices. We all had to live with them. Or not. Meredith is dead.

The others, no doubt remembering my past, said nothing further. Dorian and the Inquisitor attempted to lift our spirits up as we made our way back to Skyhold; however, Solas seemed more interested in discussing the Fade, and I could only remember Stroud's face.

The dire memories of the Wardens stayed with me throughout the rest of the evening. Perhaps it was the awareness that it could have been Anders or my brother at Adamant. Perhaps it was the sight of the piles of deformed corpses. Good soldiers dead.

Around me, other soldiers celebrated another near death – they had survived battles of their own on the variety of war torn zones surrounding the Inquisition; but many of the Inquisitor's close friends were quiet and thoughtful as they processed the fate of the Wardens. After two hours of sitting by the fire and swapping stories with Varric and the Inquisitor, I slipped out early. Not only was I avoiding Cassandra, but I was also feeling more tired than usual.

That is what I told myself.

-0-0-0-

Skyhold, the morning of my departure, promised a new future. Surrounded by the awe-inspiring vista, the castle itself stood as a triumph. Its ancient stones gently brightened beneath the dawning rays of the sun. About it and within its walls, trees rustled in the rising morning breeze, and their leaves, despite the deepening promise of autumn, shivered delicate green-silver. Bejeweled with pearls of dew, the thick lawn carpeted the outer keep and, beyond the gate, ran down to the crags and then further down and away to the lower foothills of the mountains. Above it all, the peaks of the mountain range flamed red against a blue sky streaked with wispy clouds.

"Rain soon," I predicted.

"Yes," the Inquistor smiled. "The wind is bringing us a storm, I should imagine… but as long as spirits and the undead are not crawling out of the caves, I am happy."

"Crestwood was a mess," I nodded. "I am glad you could sort it out."

"Weisshaupt may not be much better. Send us word if you need aid."

"I'll come in a heartbeat, Hawke," Varric added, suddenly at my elbow. "Weisshaupt isn't as close as I would like, but I'd come as soon as I could. If there's trouble, don't hesitate to ask. If the place is crawling with corruptions, for Maker's sake, don't attempt to cleanse it on your own."

"I won't."

"I mean it," Varric gave me a critical glance. "Sometimes I have this feeling you think you could clear out any trouble on your own… but… you have friends who would always lend a hand. Speaking of lending a hand, say hi to Blondie for me."

"I will," I smiled at his pet name for Anders. "He'll appreciate your greeting – and I'm sure he'd send something back in return."

"Those few gold that he still owes me would be nice." At the sight of my furrowed brow, the dwarf waved his hand dismissively. "Never mind that." Varric peered down into the courtyard. "Is that your horse? Looks ready to go."

The Inquisitor laughed, and I raised an eyebrow at my shorter friend.

"And now he's hurrying me out of the door," I shake my head. "What did you do now, Varric?"

"Me?" Varric asked in mock surprise. "Little old me? I did nothing!"

"Is it Cassandra?" asked the Inquisitor, clearly amused.

"Isn't it always about Cassandra with me?" Varric shook his head as he followed the Inquisitor and I down the stairs. "She's on the warpath."

"So she found out," the Inquisitor smirked. "I told you she would."

"Solas told me she would," corrected the dwarf. "He is right. As usual. But I knew. It was just a matter of time."

"Well," I had to point out, "Skyhold is big – but not that big. At any rate, you can send her my greetings. I'll be on my way. I had not planned for face-to-face time with a Seeker. Not this early in the morning."

"Perhaps another day," Varric agreed.

"Another day," I repeated solemnly as I mounted my waiting horse. "Good hunting, Lavellan," I added, nodding at my fellow mage.

He smiled, green eyes sparkling with good humour, and waved with Varric from the battlements of Skyhold as I made my way across the bridge and down the steep hillsides of the mountain range's foothills. A dark head joined the dwarf and elf. A dark head with a strident voice. Cassandra, no doubt. Very displeased. I found myself laughing.

I turned one last time in my saddle before disappearing around a craggy corner. A small vision then of Varric precariously standing on the battlement's walls and a slender figure in flaming silver standing beside him.

A hole in the sky. Gaps in the Fade. Demons spawning everywhere. Tevinter mages roaming about. Corypheus stirring the pot for whatever nefarious plot he had in mind. The Carta gone mad. The Wardens gone mad. The Templars gone mad. The mages gone mostly mad. Whatever, as Sera would say. It would sort itself out. Somehow I can believe it will end well regardless of Varric's dark premonitions.

Somehow, I believe. I have found hope.

I faced forward to the north and Weisshaupt.

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