An Adventure in Swords and Magic
Dragon Age: Inquisition
Iron Bull/OC
Adventure/Romance/Hurt/Comfort
Chapter 10
Troubled Times
What good is love and peace on Earth
When it's exclusive?
Where's the truth of the written word
If no one reads it?
Troubled Times - Green Day
Seeker Cassandra set a fierce pace for the group, pushing them for as long as they could walk. She was eager to get to the crossroads as fast they could manage, and while the rest of the group took to it fairly well, Claire did not. Still unused to the ungodly heavy armor, she fell into a dreamless sleep every night due to sheer exhaustion. To her credit, she didn't complain, though she ached all over in the worst possible ways. Varric did his best to ease her suffering with a multitude of stories, to which she noticed the Seeker would sometimes listen in. Solas and Ellana kept to themselves for the most part, passing the long days with their discussions. The sight made Claire smile, Ellana always seemed to be in her element when it came to topics that she knew about or was interested in.
Three days passed before they finally left the mountains and moved into the lowlands. The cold was still apparent, but nowhere near as bad as it was in the frigid Frostbacks. She found herself taking in the scenery now that was in a new environment, and the land was very beautiful. Everything was always a sharp contrast from Earth and New York. Her home had its fair share of greenery, but it was always overshadowed by modern buildings and run down apartments. Thedas was just overgrowing landscapes, wildlife, and sharp clean air with each intake.
After five days of near non stop walking Claire was starting to reach the end of her rope. Achiness had turned to a numbness that she almost couldn't handle. How in the world was Cassandra so used to walking around in all this armor?!
The eighth day came to a close with the group of them sitting around a comfortable campfire. Cassandra sat not too far away, eyes trained off into the distance in search of danger. Solas was busy with Ellana yet again, heads dipped low as they talked and debated over Ellana's journal. Things were coming along nicely according to her friend, and she was close to a breakthrough. If they ever managed to succeed in recruiting the Mage Rebellion they wouldn't have to waste any time in sealing the Breach.
But first they needed to get to Mother Giselle.
Claire couldn't deny the nervous butterflies in her stomach at the thought of meeting the Revered Mother. Whomever she was, she wanted to talk to Claire. Not Josephine, nor Leliana, or even Cassandra.
Just Claire.
She glanced down at the Mark on her right hand, covered by the thick plated glove. Such a little thing that felt so heavy on her shoulders.
"Does it hurt?"
Cassandra returned to the fire to sit by her side. A small stew pot was simmering over it, and the Seeker wasted no time in grabbing herself a small helping. Claire shook her head,
"Not really. It stings every now and again, but that's about it."
"We learn to take our victories where we can." Cassandra said, she glanced over at the pair of elven apostates, "Does it worry you, what they plan on doing to the Mark?"
Claire shook her head, "Nah. I trust Ellana to know what she's doing. Don't get me wrong though, there's a whole lot that could still go wrong with powering up something we barely understand."
Cassandra couldn't hold back the chuckle, "I would suggest holding on to your sense of humor."
"Yeah, its one of the few things actually keeping me sane right now." Muttered the young herald, reaching out to the cooking pot to grab herself her own helping of food. Once she was settled back into her spot did she turn back to the Seeker, "Hey, Cassandra do you mind if I ask you questions?"
"I suppose it depends on what you want to know..." She seemed testy, giving Claire a side eyed stare. She shrugged her shoulders,
"Whatever you feel like telling me, I guess. I mean, we pretty much work together, but I don't know anything about you."
"I could say the same about you, Claire."
"Well what do you want to know?"
There was a small noise to her right and she glanced over to find Ellana giving her the stink eye. Whatever she wanted to say was cut off by Solas, who demanded pretty much all of her attention. Claire simply waved her off, she knew better than to actually tell Cassandra about herself. But if she could give ambitious enough answers then it could foster a sense of trust between them. After all they were working together, and she was kind of tired at being at odds with the Seeker.
"I heard from Josephine you came from a small, isolated village not far from the Frostback Basin. What was it like?"
She could work with that, "I lived with my mother, and we mostly kept to ourselves. Our place wasn't exactly nice, but it kept us from freezing to death."
A flash of pity crossed the Seekers face for a moment, "But you're here now, what happened to your mother."
Claire sighed deeply, "There was an... accident, and we got separated." More pity and sadness, followed by a noise from Varric. Claire hadn't even realized he'd been listening in. She shrugged again, whatever conclusions they were drawing were their own, but she certainly had no intentions of letting them pity her, "It's okay, really. I met Ellana and she promised me to help me find my mom, but now..."
"You never know, Spitfire," assured Varric, who was laying on his back looking up at the stars overhead, "You're getting pretty famous now. She may just be able to come and find you. I think I'd like to meet the lady; you're a handful now, I can't imagine what you were like as a kid."
Claire snorted, "Oh she could tell you some stories, Varric."
"I can't wait to hear 'em."
" Well, you answered my questions, I suppose it is fair that I answer yours. What is it you want to know?" Cassandra seemed more at ease now, any tension she had in her shoulders was gone while she lazily spooned at her food. Claire thought about it for a good long moment.
"I guess I don't know where to start, there's so much about you that's a mystery."
The Seeker laughed, "The short version then. As you know my name is Cassandra Pentaghast. I am a daughter of the royal house of Nevarra, seventy eighth in line for the throne. When I was a young woman I joined the Seekers of Truth where I remained until the Order withdrew from the Chantry. I remained as Divine Justinia's Right Hand, carrying out her order to restore the Inquisition. The rest of which you already know."
Well that was a lot, but there was one glaring detail that caught her eyes,
"You're part of a royal family?"
Cassandra nodded, "The Pentaghast's are a large clan. Half of Cumberland could say the same."
"You're serious?!"
She chuckled this time, "No, but it often feels that way. I have hundreds of relatives so distant, they need charts to prove we're related at all. And they have them, oh, yes. The Pentaghast's value their precious blood like it runs with gold."
Claire didn't miss the bitterness in her tone. She couldn't help but wonder if that was almost like the life her mother lived. Sally wasn't royalty, but the gift of music ran in her family and she knew prodigies like her mother were traded off like commodities.
"So you joined the Seekers to get away."
Cassandra nodded, "It was a life worth leaving."
"So no family visits then?" Claire attempted to bring a little light heartedness back into the conversation, and it worked to a degree.
"No, there's one back home for me to see anymore that I don't hate. My family used to be renowned for Dragon Hunting, but there's no one left who actually practices the craft. Most of my family are fat, and lazy. They pay lip service to the Maker and care only for idle pleasures and past glories. My brother was all that kept me in Nevarra. Once he was gone, so was I."
Claire knew better than to touch that nerve, "So what about Nevarra, what's your homeland like?"
"I'm not really sure anymore. My family polluted it for me. What little I saw of my homeland was through the bars of a gilded cage. My uncle treated me like a porcelain doll to be placed on a shelf and dusted only when necessary. Thus, I did not see Nevarra, the real Nevarra, until much later. By then I realized I knew it not at all."
"Your uncle?"
"Yes, unfortunately my parents had the misfortune of taking the wrong side in the second attempt to overthrow King Markus. He had them executed, but spared my brother and I since we were children at the time. Thus, we were raised by my uncle, a Mortalitasi who preferred the company of his corpses to the living."
The statement threw Claire for a loop, "He's a what and he does what now?!"
It was Ellana who answered this time, "A death mage, I believe. They allow spirits from the fade to enter the corpses of the their deceased family so they walk again."
"Yes. Nevarrans do not burn their dead, but bury them in crypts. Mortalitasi watch over these crypts like priests. My people spend so much time honoring dead relatives than they do living ones. It is odd to be so fascinated with death and its trappings. I will never understand it."
"Yeah, it's a morbid pastime, I'll give you that."
Cassandra sighed deeply finishing off the last of her meal, "If it is all the same to you, I'm quite done with tonight's conversations. I know you have more questions, but..."
Claire nodded, "No I understand, I'm sorry if I asked any inappropriate questions." To her surprise the Seeker shook her head and flashed her a smile,
"If I felt uncomfortable I would not have answered. This talking of home is very exhausting. We can always sit down another time so I may sate that insatiable curiosity of yours."
She stood up to return to her lookout post not far from camp, a melancholy silence following after her. Claire knew better than anyone what it was like to talk about home; but unlike her, the Seeker didn't miss it. She tried to imagine what it was like as she laid down for the night, gazing up at the symphony of twinkling stars above her, but found that she couldn't. Her mother was at home, waiting out there somewhere for Claire to come back.
Don't worry Ma, I'm trying. I just got some stuff to finish first.
Claire collapsed into the grass of the small forward camp, so unimaginably relieved that they'd finally made it to their destination. Varric, Solas, and Ellana seemed to share her sentiment as they sat down to rest, but Seeker Cassandra was more determined than ever. While she moved off to find the officer in charge, Claire closed her eyes against the mid morning sun and enjoyed how the warm rays danced across her cheeks.
Then, from somewhere in the distance she heard noises. She craned her head up to try and pinpoint the location. It sounded like a sword fight, and somewhere in the air she could feel a buzzing hum.
"Magic..." Ellana deduced, "It would seem that the Mage Rebellion is causing trouble for themselves."
"The same could be same for the Rebel Templars out here." Solas said, leaning on his staff. A sigh escaped Varric as shook his head at them,
"Don't be fooled, any fighting we hear going on down there isn't part of the actual Mage-Templar war."
"Ah, I have heard. Those unsatisfied with the war effort, or deemed too bloodthirsty and exiled. It does not bode well for any reputation either group tries to uphold."
"Not to mention the innocent bystanders caught in the middle, damn this war." Varric bit through his teeth, a flash of anger passing across his features. Claire wasn't sure if she'd honestly ever seen the man this upset before.
Cassandra came back then, stepping into Claire's view as she gazed down at the young herald disapprovingly. "Get off the ground, Claire," She scolded, hands on her hips, "You're the Herald of Andraste, you must start acting like it."
Claire made a rude raspberry, yet scrambled to her feet nevertheless. Stupid title with its stupid appearances. The seeker glared at her but motioned for her to follow, introducing her to the Inquisitions lead scout.
Lace Harding was a cute dwarf woman with shocking orange burnt hair, and a multitude of freckles across her face.
"Herald of Andraste," Harding gave her a quick once over, an uneasy tension in her stance. Almost as if she didn't know what to make of the young herald, "It's an honor to meet you in person. Scout Lace Harding at your service."
Claire gave her a bow in return, "Nice to meet you too, Scout Harding. If I may, I thought I was the only one with an ocean of freckles on my face."
A smile flashed across her face, making said freckles shift, "I was just thinking the same thing! I like your hair, your worship. It's very bouncy."
"I'm glad someone likes it," she replied, quickly running her fingers through her red curls and finding a tangle of knots, "It's so unmanageable sometimes. You'd be surprised how many combs I've managed to break because of it."
The tension was gone from the Scout's shoulders now, a happier smile on her face, "I'll be honest I didn't know what to think. I've heard the stories, we all have."
"Good ones, I hope."
"Only the ones where they say you're the last hope for peace on Thedas."
Varric snorted from somewhere behind her, "No pressure there, Spitfire." Claire turned to scowl at him, who merely shot back at her with a wink. Scout Harding chuckled,
"It's a big undertaking, and I don't envy you for it, but here in the Hinterlands is as good a place as any to start. I know you came looking for Mother Giselle, Sister Leliana sent ahead a missive for me, and we managed to locate her in the Crossroads not far from here."
"But..." Cassandra prompted, and a dour look settled over Lace's face,
"But with the failure at the Conclave the Mage-Templar conflict here started heating up, and their fighting is overtaking the whole countryside. They've moved to the crossroads now, and it's apparent they don't care who gets in their way, or who gets hurt. I sent a few of my best men to aid the civilians not that long ago, but I'm not sure how well they're going to hold out."
"Where are these groups coming from, surly they have a base they operate from."
Scout Harding nodded and strode over to a nearby table, Cassandra and Claire tailing close behind, and began pointing to various locations around a regional map.
"We managed to pinpoint the Templar base; a small encampment on the river near the ruins of Fort Connor. The mages are a little tougher. Much of the main rebellion is holed up in Redcliff right now, and they're refusing to open the gates to anyone. However, the mages on this side of the gate aren't actually part of the rebellion anymore. Most of them were exiled for being too bloodthirsty, or were tired of waiting out the conflict. We think their base is somewhere in the Witchwood, but they've put up protective staves to confuse anyone who walks in."
"We find ourselves in a very dire situation indeed. I recall you were sent out here in the first place to acquire horses for the Inquisition, any success on that?" The Seeker inquired, Lace shook her head,
"We haven't been able to navigate around the conflict to even see if Horsemaster Dennit is alive."
Minute by minute things were looking worse and worse. Just how were they supposed to fix all of this? Where did they even begin?!
"Very well, thank you Scout Harding. Claire, with me."
Cassandra's mood felt as if had shifted entirely. There was a seriousness that Claire recognized as she went to her side, and she wasn't the only one that noticed. Ellana, Solas, and even Varric gave her their undivided attention as she addressed the four of them.
"We move quickly to the Crossroads. The conflict here in the Hinterlands has escalated to the point where it's endangering the lives of the people, including Mother Giselle. Solas, Varric I want you to take the rear, providing wards and cover fire. Claire, Ellana stay in the middle of the group, and do not engage anyone. If you find yourself in a fight I want you to lure them to me to take care of. Your job is to keep yourself alive, Claire, do you understand?"
The young Herald nodded, nervousness igniting in her gut as everyone readied their gear. Solas and Varric took their position in the back of the tightly knit group, with Cassandra at point and Ellana at her side. As they moved Claire readied her shield, strapping it tightly to her arm before unsheathing her sword and letting it hang at her side.
Their brisk pace to the crossroads was a silent one, and with the silence came the maddening thoughts.
She wasn't cut out for this.
To her left and right down the path she could see the remnants of the magic hanging in the air. Pillars of ice jutting out from the ground, with bodies encased inside or impaled upon the points. Her stomach churned at the sight and she shot her gaze down to the ground.
What the hell was she thinking? This was suicide; she wasn't a fighter, she was going to get herself killed. She needed to save herself and leave the fighting to the people who actually knew how-
A hand clasped her upper arm and gently squeezed. Claire turned to find Ellana doing her best to give her a comforting smile. Only then did she realize she was tense, like a rubber band at its breaking point, and her breathing labored like she'd been running the mile.
Ellana had kept her from stupidly bolting away from the group, and possibly getting herself hurt. She was safer with them than on her own, and she clutched on to the thought. Though it did little to comfort her.
She could hear the fighting in the distance getting louder as they moved closer and closer. The hum of magic in the air intensified as well, making the hairs on Claire's neck stand on end. They rounded the corner to find a barricade with Inquisition soldiers huddled behind it. An archer popped out from behind cover to fire an arrow at an unprotected mage in the distance, but their return fire kept them pinned. It didn't help that any equipped with swords were holding off Templars, and what looked like regular mercenaries.
"Stay close!" The Seeker called, "And remember your positions!"
She jumped forward past the barricade, using her shield to knock back the unfortunate Templar that got in her way. A man to her left barely brought back his arm before Varric, from somewhere behind her, turned him into his own personal pin cushion. Ellana and Claire followed quickly behind the Seeker, trying to keep pace as she cut a path. The remaining soldiers saw their opportunity and took it, charging with Cassandra and surprising the Mages and Templars by pushing them back.
It was chaos; everything seemed to move at once that Claire barely had time to keep up with it. She felt herself hesitating, unsure of what to do with herself.
"Keep your shield up, Claire," called Ellana to her right, she flicked her staff out and expertly deflected a barrage of magic and turned it back on its casters. And slowly they inched forward, magic, arrows, and swords seemingly coming at them from all sides. And bit by bit they pushed back the rebels.
Suddenly, the air around Claire intensified drastically. A cackle of magic she'd never heard before surrounding her. From her left, Ellana screamed and jumped forward to push Claire with all of her might. Taken by surprise she stumbled back a few paces, narrowly avoiding a large wall of ice that shot out from the ground. Claire gasped, backing up several more steps, very much aware that she was cut off from her group. The wall itself was large, spanning several feet from both her left and right, meaning that Cassandra would either need to push forward recklessly to run around and reach Claire, or fall back and lose position.
She needed to get out of there, she was vulnerable. So steadying her shield and throwing her back against the wall she retreated several paces to try and run around the wall herself.
Then, not far from her, she heard a high pitched scream. She twisted around and to her horror found a Templar in intricate armor bearing down on a cornered woman. A civilian who was desperately scrambling on the ground as she tried to get away. His sword was at the ready, raised high overhead to deliver a killing blow.
Before Claire could even register the thought she was moving, running as fast as she could at the Templars blind side. With all of her might she threw her weight and momentum into the charge, sending him flying to the ground with a shout of surprise. The young woman, whoever she was, saw her opportunity and shot to her feet and escaped into a cluster of nearby buildings.
But now Claire had the attention and ire of a very pissed off Templar to deal with. They looked at each other, a moment that seemed to draw out into a minute, and she could see that he was no older than her. Baby faced and bright blue eyes that stared up at her in shock for the briefest of moments before they darkened with hate. His sword had clattered to the ground when she tackled him; it was now or never.
Kill or be killed.
But she stood there as he reached for the sword. She stood there, looking into his eyes as he shot up, weapon held high overhead to deal a deadly blow. He was going to kill her, and she just stood there.
Then, a flash of silver. Cassandra was there, shield of her own raised to deflect the sword as she used her body to push Claire out of harms way. With a graceful spin she swung around with her sword and shot up from below the unknown boy, and plunged the blade between the cracks of the armor. He cried and sputtered, blood seeping out from the wound and over the sword.
Claire gagged and turned away, hearing the body hit the ground with a heavy thump. Her stomach roiling violently she fell to her knees and ejected the contents of her breakfast, tears streaming down her cheeks over the loss of someone she didn't even know.
He was just a boy, no older than she was.
Too much, all of this was just too damn much.
A/N: Many Thanks to Misguided Cub for all the Beta work .This wouldn't be possible without you! Also many thanks to the favorite, follows, and reviews. Your support means the world to me!