A/N: In case I didn't mention this before, there will be a minimum of in-game dialogue. It may make sense for a younger or more naïve warden but given Josslyn's background it would seem strange. Also, this will continue to be slightly AU. Finally, my idea of the Fade is more in keeping with TST than the game. Fair warning.
The Demon Wears Nada
If pain was a sound it would be Isolde Guerrin's voice. Or perhaps it was that her shrill voice caused pain. Either way, Joss had to silence Isolde before her ears started bleeding. Styx was growling deep and low, ready to spring at Isolde's throat. Joss was tempted to do the same if it would quiet the woman.
It amazed her, and not in a good way, that the entire village had been decimated, that she and her group of companions were bedraggled and exhausted, and Isolde wore a fashionable silk gown and had not a hair out of place. Hello? Reality check needed.
"I'm sorry, but sending Teagan alone to the castle without knowing what's really going on is a bit like sending a soldier to deliver a baby. Neither action is wise and neither will end well." Oh Joss, nice tone of voice. Rational, cool, wise. So unlike herself. She wondered if anyone would notice if she patted herself on the back.
Isolde turned her haughty stare on Josslyn, as if to make Joss shrink back into submission. "Teagan, who is this woman?" Isolde asked, drawing out each vowel in a way that reminded Joss of a taffy pull they'd once had in the kitchens back at the tower.
Alistair, to Josslyn's surprise, spoke up; his voice an odd mixture of resentment and subservience. "You remember me, Lady Isolde. Alistair. The stables? We need to know what's going on. We thought everyone inside the castle was dead."
Isolde looked as though she'd swallowed sour milk when she saw him. She explained, without really explaining anything, why she needed Teagan to accompany her. Joss knew she was lying and she was fairly certain that Isolde knew she knew she was lying but it didn't deter the arlessa from continuing on with her fairy tale. Joss listened carefully, caught Isolde's sly look as the woman begged them to understand how distraught she was. Not so distraught she wasn't perfectly groomed. Here, the castle is under attack, let me just change into a clean gown and oh, fetch a maid to do my hair, there's a nice demon.
"The mage I hired for Connor poisoned Eamon. How could he do such a thing, Teaaagaaaan?"
In Josslyn's experience there was only one reason to hire a non-circle mage as a tutor, and that was to hide a mage in the family. Those with little or no money had no choice but to turn over their mage children or risk retribution from the almighty chantry or they risked the wrath and paranoia of their neighbors. But for those with money and connections, there was always a way.
One of the reasons Josslyn had little use for most nobles was because of those she'd encountered in the tower. They came, after donating heavily to the chantry, to find suitable tutors for their precious children, who could not possibly mix with the common ruffians who attended the local chantry schools. No, no, they must have someone special to teach their illustrious heirs without contaminating their pure blood by having them sit next to Farmer Joe's little urchin.
For a hefty donation to the already overflowing coffers of the church the nobles came to the tower and found a private tutor from among the newly harrowed mages. Usually it was a nobleman who came and usually it was a young female mage who was chosen. Joss once confronted Irving about it and Irving just shook his shaggy grey head and shrugged his useless shoulders. What was he to do?
Isolde was a very different kettle of fish. A poor choice of words, considering the smell emanating from the fishery in Redcliffe village. Barrels and barrels of salted fish that made Joss's stomach lurch. Isolde had hired an apostate to tutor the Guerrin heir. That was a very odd thing to do unless Connor was a mage. The woman was a liar and worse. She had damned the entire village through her dishonesty and arrogance. Joss was all for singeing the perfectly coifed chignon on Isolde's head. She only restrained herself when she felt Teagan's hand on her arm.
Teagan pulled Joss to the side and his voice, a warm whisper of admiration and strength, caused tingles in places that were not appropriate places to have them, given the seriousness of their situation. Oh, for want of a linen closet and ten uninterrupted minutes. "I have no illusions that I'll be able to do more than distract whatever thing is present. You, on the other hand, have proven to be quite formidable," he said softly and the admiration was a caress that did nothing to diminish the tingling sensation.
Was it wrong of Joss to preen just ever so much? Probably and she really oughtn't to. There were things to do, places to go and demons to see. She licked her lips and finally found her missing voice.
"If the dead are waking up and going on walkabout this isn't the work of a mage, but a demon. Someone up there is possessed by a demon and they became that way by making a deal with said demon. Between that and the mage who poisoned the arl, I'm fairly confident that going up there on your own is remarkably brave and so not a good idea."
"This is my family, Lady Josslyn, would you rather I ignore the problem?" he asked, and it was the first time Joss had heard steel in his voice. So much for his admiration, she thought sadly, but kept her smile in place.
"I realize you've little to no choice, but be careful. If you've never been ensorcelled by a demon it can be more than a little unnerving and totally embarrassing," Joss warned.
"You know a great deal about demons. Dare I ask how?" Teagan asked and his smile had reasserted itself which made Josslyn's come out to play.
"A story for a later time. We'll go through the dungeon and make our way into the castle. Please just tell me there are no creepy crawly critters along the way."
Teagan threw his head back, laughing. "My lady, it is a dungeon. Surely someone who fought so fiercely against the waking dead isn't afraid of the odd rat or spider?" he asked with a twinkle burning merrily in his eye.
"Hello? Castle? Demons? Shouldn't we get a move on?" Alistair asked, apparently displeased at the lack of grim breast-beating going on between Joss and Teagan.
"Right you are, Alistair. I'll go along with Isolde and try to keep this demon amused while you make your way inside. Be safe," he said, taking her hand in his and bestowing a soft brush of lips against her knuckles. Hello, closet, where are you when needed? She uncurled her toes and moved to the entrance of the windmill.
Ten minutes later, Josslyn was circling around herself, trying to wipe the last of the cobwebs off her. A gesture as futile as trying to dry herself off while standing in the rain. She shuddered as another cobweb floated down and settled on her shoulders like a lover's hand. Alistair reached over and brushed it off.
"Girl," he muttered. Joss flashed him a grin.
"Kind of you to notice," she replied. He blushed. Her grin grew in size.
It was the last grin she flashed for awhile. She blamed Jowan, who was standing in a dank cell that smelled of stale bodies and salted fish. He was wearing a torn robe and a multitude of bruises.
"Andraste's hind tit! What are you doing in there?" Joss exclaimed more shocked than angry. He should never have been able to survive outside the circle. He was, in her estimation, too stupid to do so, too stupid to be made a Tranquil. He did not prove her wrong when his story came tumbling out of his mouth.
"So Loghain sent you to poison this Arl Eamon fellow and you didn't stop to question why? Hardly surprising from someone stupid enough to fall for an initiate. And Lily of all people? Not only are you stupid, you have absolutely not taste at all."
"Thank you, Joss. I'd forgotten how warm and compassionate you are," Jowan mumbled irately. Was it possible to whine and mumble at the same time? Apparently so.
"So Connor is a mage, I'm guessing? Mama threw piles of sovereigns at a mage to teach him in secret? I think I found someone worthy of you, Jowan. Stupid is as stupid does," she finished.
Naturally Alistair, the boy templar, was appalled that Jowan was a blood mage and Connor was a budding mage. He wasn't sure what to do with Jowan. Sister Rows with one Oar thought they should free him because nobody deserved to die. Joss had a list of people she considered fair game for death.
"Sure, easy to be all charitable and forgiving until the blood mage uses your blood, Leliana," Joss reminded her. Leliana turned pale and took a large step away from the cell.
Morrigan stared at the man through narrowed golden eyes, assessing him. Apparently she found him wanting as she sniffed disdainfully. "'Twould seem you are correct, Josslyn."
Joss didn't know whether to crow or cry at that. She decided on neither. "Get out of the cell and come with us," she instructed Jowan with what she hoped was an intimidating scowl. Really, she wasn't cut out for this kind of life. She wanted her soft slippers and a feather bed, damn it.
"What? Take a blood mage? Are you sure that's wise?" Alistair asked, his voice turning slightly squeaky at the end. She patted his shoulder.
"Cheer up, if anything bad happens you can just shove your sword up his…well you'll think of somewhere," she reassured , glaring at Jowan who moved back in his cell, hiding in the shadows. As if I don't know he's there?
Impatiently, Joss looked at Leliana. "Pick the lock since Jowan seems to have forgotten how to cast a spell."
"Can't I just stay here and wait until this is all over?" Jowan whined. So much for his 'Oh let me atone' nonsense he'd babbled on about.
"Ribbet," Joss croaked in her best imitation of a toad. Jowan scrambled out of the cell.
"You really know a toad spell?" Alistair asked, voice painted in fear and trimmed with awe.
"And Jowan, if you spill one drop of blood to power a spell, I will make you look like a roasted pig, got it?"
"With or without the apple?" Morrigan asked, acerbic and seemingly quite serious. Alistair snickered. Leliana gasped, but Joss was fairly sure it was to cover a laugh.
Rolling her eyes, Joss led them through the castle to fight yet more walking dead. The trip did nothing to amend her earlier assessment of Isolde and the nobility. The poor townsfolk were barely scraping by and yet even the castle basement was opulent. And apparently there had, at one time, been a rather large staff of servants and soldiers because the walking dead were in every room. She didn't quite understand why they were in the kitchens. It wasn't as if they actually ate or anything. Or knew how to cook for that matter. The more people she killed, the angrier she became with Isolde. And Jowan. Poor hard working people hadn't done anything to deserve dying not once, but twice. And in one rather frightening case, three times before he finally stayed dead.
At last they made their way into the courtyard to meet up with Ser Perth and his fellow knights. They also met up with a Revenant, which only confirmed that a demon was at work. Poor Alistair took the worst of the damage from the Revenant as everyone else stood back. They were elegantly ugly, Revenants, and powerful hitters. Created by and possessed by demons. Determined demons, at that.
Joss winced as Alistair took a particularly nasty hit on the head. She stopped casting her misdirection hex midway through and shot her only healing spell at Alistair before continuing her hex. There was something immensely satisfying about seeing an enemy missing with every swing of his weapon. She was still snickering when the last of the walking dead were once again dead.
"Shall we enter the castle now, my lady?" Ser Perth asked with a formal bow.
Even after fighting all night and half the morning, Ser Perth still looked adorable. His armor was still polished, his eyes still warm and sweet. A true knight in every sense of the word, Joss thought with approval. Just like those romance novels she confiscated from the young apprentices.
She debated telling him what he could expect if a demon possession was responsible for all the trouble but decided he was better off experiencing it instead. "Yes, Ser Perth, let's do that."
The knight extended his arm and she took it, feeling regal and like a true princess. Until she tripped over Styx, who was sniggering. She nearly pulled Ser Perth down on top of her and while she wouldn't have minded, she felt sure he would have been mortified.
"Stupid robe," she muttered as he helped her up. What she really meant was "stupid dog" but she was too busy straightening her robes and picking her staff up off the ground.
'Marmalade' Guerrin was putting on a lovely show when they entered. Joss couldn't help but admire his moves and the agility with which he performed those moves. If he ever remembered how he cavorted, he would no doubt be horribly embarrassed. Joss bit back her laughter. Demons were serious business. Seriously.
Isolde stood next to a young man. Her shoulders were slumped and she finally had a smudge on her and a wisp or two of hair falling out of its tidy little bun. The young boy looked to be about twelve and that told her instantly that the demon at work in Redcliffe Castle was a Desire Demon. They were every boy's fantasy as they wore practically nothing and if you could ignore their horns and hooves, they were quite attractive. Desire Demons preyed on young boys nearing puberty and templars, both for a reason, they were easy targets for nearly naked nubile young semi-women demon types.
Joss felt a stab of pity for the young boy who had probably not intended for all the commotion. He'd wanted something, obviously, and as an untrained mage, had no doubt allowed a demon into his dreams. The question was, could they free him of the demon and still leave him intact? She rubbed a hand across her forehead.
"Let's just get down to it, Demon. You want to stay, I want you to go. The question is which of us is stronger."
"I have an army at my side, you've a few dimwits. I think the answer is clear," the young boy scoffed in a voice that echoed his every word several octaves lower.
After insulting his mother, his uncle, the assembled group and especially Joss, he finally yelled, "I crave excitement," and with a flip of his fingers, the prancing Teagan pulled out his sword, adjusted his shield and came at Joss with a menacing growl.
"Maker's nuts!" Joss exclaimed and felt the magic of three mages sweeten the air in heady swirls around the room as they fought off the guards.
"I'm sorry, Teagan," she whispered, truly regretful, and slammed into his chest with a stone fist. He went down with a wide-eyed wonder that seemed faintly accusing as well.
In only moments everyone was subdued and Isolde was running to Teagan to help him stand. Oh sure, now she was concerned, Joss thought in disgust. She hit Isolde with just enough lightning to send her scuttling back in surprise but not so strong that she might actually think someone had cast a spell at her. Joss reached down and helped Teagan to his feet.
"Sorry about that," she said, sending a small wisp of rejuvenation into him as she straightened his doublet.
"No, no. It's not every day a beautiful woman throws me to the ground."
"Teagan, I am sorry. If anything had happened to you I don't know…" Isolde began and he waved her off.
For the first time since Joss had met him, Teagan looked more than a bit miffed. He glared at Isolde, one eyebrow curled up in disgust. "You're sorry? Look what you've done, Isolde. Look at all the people you've hurt."
Hurt? The woman was a mass murderer in Josslyn's mind. She wisely held her tongue and let Teagan's words slam into Isolde much the way Joss's stone fist had slammed into Teagan. The woman became paler and paler with each accusation.
"It's his fault!" she finally shrieked, pointing at Jowan. Joss was fairly sure her ears were now bleeding from the volume, not to mention the piercing timbre, of the woman's voice.
"Forget whose fault it is, people. There's a boy who is possessed by a powerful demon. The longer he remains that way, the less chance we have of doing anything about it other than killing him," Joss finally broke in. "We can assign fault later. Let's figure out if we can send me into the Fade first, eh?"
A discussion ensued about how they could do it. When Jowan offered to use blood magic, Joss ended the discussion. "You so much as twitch and I'll send you into the Fade permanently," she told him grimly. "You and Morrigan should be able to send me into the Fade easily enough, if I can get my hands on some lyrium."
"You mean Connor can be saved? Oh thank the Maker."
"Not without a shi…a sizeable amount of lyrium. I'm hoping that the chantry has a supply. Not that they'll just hand it over if I ask. But it's worth a try."
"Oh! I can do that for you, Joss. I think Mother Hannah and I have a few friends in common. She will be more willing to give it to me, yes?" Leliana chirped, her bee-stung lips curving into a smile.
"Probably so. For some reason Revered Mothers and I don't get along very well."
In unison, Leliana and Alistair chimed in, "People skills!" and laughed.
While they waited for Leliana to return, Teagan came and sat beside Joss as she taught Jowan and Morrigan the necessary spell to help her find the raw Fade. The spell was in Arcanum, lyrical and potent. And very old. Joss loved the way the words twisted and tickled her tongue. Most of the other mages in the tower thought she was crazy. She thought they were lazy. It all evened out.
"Is this dangerous for you?" Teagan asked, his breath warm on her cheek as he sat beside her. His eyes showed he genuinely cared for her safety. What a sweetheart. Should she lie? Probably. He didn't seem to need any more bad news. He looked tired and pale and she felt badly for him
"Oh no," she responded, breezy and flip. "I do this all the time." Well it wasn't really a lie, she did go into the Fade often. Or at least more often than most mages.
An hour later, Leliana returned with lyrium potions and some lyrium powder. Bless the chantry for addicting its templars to lyrium. "Alistair, you have enough training to know if this doesn't work, right?"
Alistair blanched and she could see him gulping, his Adam's apple bobbing like a fishing lure she'd seen out on the lake earlier. "Y-yes. But please don't let it not work," he pleaded hoarsely. Once Joss figured out what he meant, she gave him a reassuring smile.
"I really have done this several times. It should be fine. But if it isn't, don't hesitate. It will be a mercy."
Taking a deep breath, she dipped into the lyrium and felt the sweet scream of it in her blood, fueling her, and she began to chant, her voice joining Jowan's and Morrigan's. And then with a sigh, she entered the fade. She hoped she hadn't bruised her hip when she fell. She really ought to just lay down to begin with.
The raw Fade was wrinkled and brown and ugly. She passed through it and into Connor's little area of the Fade, a perfect replica of Castle Redcliffe, complete with Arl Eamon, who was a bit hysterical, which is no mean feat for a man in a coma. She tried to calm him down so he would stop shouting. She met with limited success and so she continued on until she found the Desire Demon, hiding in a rose garden. Joss made a mental note to find the real rose garden when she got back, it looked very nice.
As she had expected, she looked at the nearly nude Desire Demon and allowed herself to scold the creature. "Picking on a young man's budding fantasies by wearing nothing but nipple clamps? Really, is that the best you Desire Demons can do? And why aren't there any scantily clad men for us women?"
"Come, isn't there something you'd like, Josslyn? Your comfortable room back at the circle?" the demon asked. The rose garden transformed into her small room in the tower, complete with her private bath. Joss sighed and shook her head.
"Come on, bitch, you can do better than that," Joss tutted.
"Perhaps a visit with Joseph?" the nude demon with the long curling horns asked, her sharp features changing subtlety until Josslyn was staring at her brother's face. The familiar hazel eyes, so much like her own, were wide and frightened.
"Jossy, come find me, I'm scared," he said plaintively. Joss shut her eyes for a minute, steadying herself, closing her mind to the memories.
"This old trick? Really? How unoriginal of you. My brother is dead, demon. Even you don't have the power to bring him back," Joss taunted and began casting her most powerful fireball. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes against the look of horror on her dead brother's face and hit the bitch between the eyes with the fireball.
The demon howled, outraged, and stumbled back. The first jolt of the demon's lightning spell turned Josslyn's arm into living, dancing fire and Joss returned the favor with a massive block of ice.
"I can give you anything you want, Josslyn. Why do you fight it?" the demon asked and once more her form changed. Teagan Guerrin, complete with charming smile and nut brown goatee, stood before her. Dressed. That was the fatal mistake. If she could run around nearly naked for Connor, the least she could do is change into a nude Teagan. Ignorant, lazy demon hadn't done her homework.
Joss smiled, pulling all of her magic into a tight circle around her until it formed a large glowing orb. She sent it hurtling towards the demon. It hit the demon mid chest, ripping one breast away. Joss snickered.
"You really ought to wear some armor, hag," Joss chortled, already tapping into her dwindling mana supply for another fireball. It caught the demon in the stomach and with a shrill hiss, the demon died.
Joss woke with a start. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Don't kill me, Alistair," she said quickly, rubbing her head. It wasn't her hip she'd bruised, it was the side of her noggin. And not a decent healer among them. She sat up, woozy and queasy. Teagan leaned down to help her stand.
She promptly threw up all over his glossy brown leather boots.