Giving Desire her Due

Part Two: Blood Oath

Chapter Ten: State of Flux

The Fade was a place of shifting perspectives and landscapes, like dunes of sand transformed by the wind. It was a slow, yet constant flux. Desire lifted the other demon by its slender neck, "You are much to young to be more than a mere nuisance to me. Give me the idiot mage's memory and I will forget you exist."

Age was not registered by demons in months and years as it was with Mortals, for the Fade was timeless. Instead it was gauged by incarnations, how many times they'd possessed a Mortal and experienced the world outside their own. Desire was nearly five hundred, give or take. She'd been an ambitious youth. She was willing to bet the sniveling creature in her tightening grasp wasn't out of double digits yet. Desire sent a wave of power coursing through the weaker entity, a sensation of immense pain. Of fire licking up flesh a demon lacked. The other cried out and writhed in agony, making Desire's estimate of the demon's age drop further.

"You are still Naive to many things it seems," Desire hissed, calling upon another of her experiences. The other's eyes bulged and she clutched at the talon like fingers wrapped around her throat as her mouth open and closed in feverish gulps. Demons did not have lungs either, but now this one knew what it was to have them burn for air and fill with water as she struggled in vain against the inevitability of death. Desire preferred Templar blade to drowning, but each experience had its own merits and transformed her into something greater.

The other tried to fight back with a surge of memory all her own, a recollection of just that. There was hesitation in the Templar's strike, it was someone he had known. Mortals had a thousand tells into their inner workings, Desire savored them. She was unfazed by the attempt but recognized fragments of the broken memory as a Harrowing chamber. Desire had a few Harrowings of her own under her figurative belt, some much more eventful. She lashed back at the other with the culmination of them all, the sheer volume giving the other pause.

Harrowings were a sick game Mortals played. The first step, coaxing a demon into a fold in the Fade and trapping them inside. They would then watch as the understandably upset party tried to claw its way out through an apprentice who was as helpless as the demon in avoiding the situation. It came down to the mage and the demon, and a demon always chose themselves over a lesser being, no matter how regrettable the circumstance. When the demon did manage to escape its prison by way of borrowed flesh, it was struck down by awaiting Templars. It wasn't even a sporting chance, but it was better than languishing as a pet in a cage. It wasn't even a pretty cage.

The other demon reached out then, defeated, offering a pulsating orb of electric blue light in the palm of her outstretched hand. As the orb transferred from the other to Desire, she released the demon; forgotten.

-Why didn't you ask her what she gave him?- Vhaaja asked, tingling at the recesses of Desire's consciousness.

-That was not part of our arrangement,- Desire responded, Mortals asked the most redundant questions at times, -Why does it matter?-

-I was curious,- Vhaaja replied, her mind voice already on the edge of annoyance. Desire mused that the girl should watch her tone, of the two it was the Wilder that was insurmountably more vexing.

-Then ask your idiot mage,- Desire answered with a huff, idiot mage fast becoming her new favorite phrase. Honestly the woman gave the simplest problems complexity.

-Great idea. He won't suspect a thing. Don't forget he has experience banishing demons. Perhaps he is more clever than you give him credit for.-

-Doubtful. Let him try me. I am not some pathetic creature that preys on children or plays puppeteer to dead flesh. If he should ever be intent on the idea, you would be wise to advise him that there is more than one way for a mage to become severed from the Fade,- Desire said, matter of fact.

-Is that a threat?- Desire was silent. She hadn't meant for it to be, but mortals constantly made outlandish assumptions. Often to a demon's benefit.

-If that is what you heard,- the demon purred, knowing ambiguity to be maddening for Mortals. They liked their world defined, everything with a name, in its place and assigned purpose. In the Fade things simply were, were not or in some state of limbo between the two. At the same moment some things could exist and not at the same time even, or exist in two places at once.

-Just ask the demon now,- Vhaaja demanded, in desperate need of a reminder which one of them was in charge on the Fade side of the Veil.

-The terms of the agreement have already been fulfilled. She no longer exists to me,- it was only Vhaaja's attention that kept the other from disappearing from Desire's consciousness altogether. In the Fade, to a demon, a deal was an equal exchange of energy, and could not be broken. An Oath once once sworn altered a demon's fluid reality, becoming a law of its existence.

-She is right there,- Vhaaja's mind voice fumed.

-Only to you,- Desire didn't know how to better explain it. The concept of a fractured simultaneous reality was as hard for a Mortal to comprehend as a singular shared one was for demons; but demons had longer to grasp it.

-Can you give the memory back to Jowan?- Vhaaja asked hopefully.

-If he accepts it. Mages are not in the habit of accepting gifts from demons,- then again the mage in question was a fool.

-Just. Try. Please.-

oOo

With dawn's first light, Vhaaja had managed to get Jowan to the bed. She hadn't felt right about leaving him on the floor, and mused how he inspired her to be a slightly better person. As she slinked out the room as silently as she was able, she looked back a moment. It was heartening to see the tension gone from him, she'd decided that she would see him that way awake one day. Funny that the thought that they could part ways before then came only in afterthought. She smiled tritely at that, and dropped her gaze to the underside of her wrist. Branded there was Desire's signature mark, the constant reminder that she was indebted to a demon. It wasn't the first time, but the prices the demon demanded in return seemed less and less worth the cost. The important thing to focus on was that Jowan was safe, or as safe as any mage ever truly was.

She pulled the door shut with a soft click. Vhaaja bristled at the calm, masculine tone of Ser Gilmore, then cursed herself for being so distracted that he was able to catch her by surprise, "This is where you ended up then."

She craned her head to the side to look at him, her loose curtain of hair fell over the left side of her face. He was dressed in armor she hadn't seen before with his arms crossed examining her casually. She knew he had been eager to be rid of his borrowed scale and had apparently found a better quality replacement. Vhaaja pulled her gaze up, locking it on his. She wasn't sure what she saw there. On the surface they got on great, but seemed incapable of establishing a deeper connection. She was savage wonder and wilderness, he was rigid discipline and civilization. He never let on exactly what he thought, and neither did Vhaaja. Not unless pressed. And he seemed unwilling to question her on anything, not unless the matter was of grave importance. She was sorry that she'd given him the impression that was what she liked. It seemed so long ago now, the ghoul and her childish exit. It wasn't something she looked fondly back upon, it wasn't something she'd have done save for Desire's foul mood. On the other hand, she might not have returned for him without the demon's insistence that the only thing she would remove the mark for was Ser Gilmore.

What would the demon demand this time? Where was her line? Sky Mother knew if she even had one anymore.

It was hard to remember at times, that no matter how complex the matter was for Vhaaja, it was simple for the knight. She'd helped him escape Highever, then accompanied him to Ostagar. She helped him and Helena battle their way to Hunter Fell through roving bands of darkspawn. She'd slept with him to ease his inner turmoil, and had continued to do so several times a week since. Desire still needed to feed, even if she complained about it being the same boring meal over and over.

The dilemma was what that made them. Relationships were a new wrinkle for Vhaaja. What she'd had with Brambled Path had simply always been, they'd been the sun and moon to each other. Once she'd retreated in shame from the Wilds she'd only had a constant stream of lovers chosen by Desire's whimsy. A new flavor every night. The demon longed for a return to those times. Vhaaja cared about Roland, but no matter how much she wanted otherwise deeper feelings never blossomed. Part of her wondered if the demon's interference had made it impossible. Maybe, just maybe if she'd had him to herself alone she would have been able to love him.

"It was a bad idea," she started, an ache quivering in her chest as she spoke. The query formed behind his green eyes. With a half smile she clarified, "Nothing happened, he just needed someone to hold his hair back."

"Its the part where you needed to tell me nothing happened that has me most concerned," he said as his brow knotted. Dread settled over the Wilder, churning her stomach with bile. Vhaaja moved lean on the railing opposite the aged stone walls, their rooms above and overlooking the main hall. She rested her weight on her forearms, a cornered animal. Only this time she'd trapped herself. He came to stand next to her, leaning backwards on the railing. She could feel his gaze rove over her, "You spend a lot of time with him, doing nothing."

Vhaaja was pretty sure she'd never been more uncomfortable in her life. Scratch that, there was once, but she didn't even like thinking about that. It'd led to her exodus from the Wilds. She mused, staring down at the elegant blue carpet that ran the center of the chamber below, that it would be so easy to jump. Just push herself over the railing, roll as she hit the ground and scurry for the nearest exit. He'd never be able to catch her. That she hadn't done it yet made her wonder at how much she'd changed since Highever. He'd helped her become someone else after all, some one she'd been before she'd decided that dealing with a demon was the best course of action.

She felt saved when she heard Helena's voice. She too was dressed in new mail, only chain not scale, "We should talk later, shouldn't keep her waiting."

He leaned in and kissed her on top of the head, some how she knew it would be their last one. Even with the inevitability of the end in sight, it still saddened her, "Later."

oOo

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Jowan asked the desire demon as her talons formed a cage around the white orb of light she offered, clearly annoyed. Around him were fragments of things he half remembered, tilted chairs and bookshelves and the sounds of laughing children. It was like an abstract rendition of the Tower Jowan mused. He came here often. He'd escaped the Circle yet at the same time was never completely free of it.

"Yes," she sighed in exasperation, her form still instead of gyrating sensuously. The demon seemed different from his stalker. And that only concerned him more, what on Thedas was he doing wrong to attract so much attention? Was it the price of blood magic? "Just take it so I can be gone."

"No. If you want to give that to me so badly, then I probably shouldn't have it."

"Listen, idiot mage, I am returning what is yours," just brilliant. The demon had resorted to name calling. He shut his eyes and willed himself awake.

It was dark, his head nestled in the cradle of his arms. He could groggily recall where he was. He'd come down to the kitchens to force himself to eat. Off to the side was a small room with a table, some benches and a hearth with stew warming over the embers. He ventured a look out of his dark sanctuary, the candle light was garish in comparison. He'd apparently fallen asleep at the table, which was the least embarrassing of a long list of things he'd done since returning to the castle the night before.

"I am never drinking again," Jowan groan as his stomach roiled at the smell of Helena's midday meal. She sent across from him, sopping a piece of crusty bread into the steaming wooden bowl in front of her. In front of him was a cup of water and a slice of the same bread. His gut was too raw for anything else. The rich scent of the knight's stew sapped away any appetite he'd managed to muster since crawling out of his room. He'd been very wrong the previous night. It was the morning after that felt like dying.

"Everyone says that, I give it a week," Helena sympathized, then took a bite of her soggy bread. The sight gave Jowan the urge to heave and he retreated back to the cradle of his arms. With a nostalgic chuckle she added, "When I was your age, I'd be at the tavern every night I wasn't on duty. Be surprised how much respect you can earn going drink for drink."

"When you were my age?" his eyes narrowed dubiously as he peered out, a dark eyebrow arched, "How old could you be?"

"Firstly, that isn't a question you want to ask a woman for future reference. Secondly, older than I look I hope. I'll be seeing the big three-zero this year. Since you opened the box, what are you? Eighteen? Twenty?"

"I don't look that young do I?" he asked knitting his forehead, "Twenty-four or five actually," he shrugged, dropping his head again.

"How can you be twenty-four or five? Seems like something you should know," she scoffed off hand.

"Can't remember if I was six or going to be six when I was left at the Chantry, I was a little distracted that year. Would have been nice of my parents to pin a note to my shirt though," Jowan mumbled without lifting his head, only a hint of snark.

"I'm sorry," Helena said.

"Don't be. I think its worse for the ones that get letters and visits. Muddles how things are with how they used to be. I had a clean break, can't say I was enamored with it at the time. But in hindsight it wasn't terrible," he said in a low voice. When he'd lived there he had likened the Circle to a prison. He'd since had an education in the Ferelden penal system, despite claims made to the contrary; mages from his Circle had no idea what true incarceration was like, "Could have been worse, as I've seen first hand."

"I for one am glad you came out for a jaunt," she said getting up, the wooden bench scrapped against the stone. As Helena passed him she ruffled his dark hair a bit, earning her another groan.

oOo

Later, Roland found himself relieved that Vhaaja had made herself scarce. Which he realized didn't bode well for how their talk would progress. Her fondness for the mage had been seamless, but it wasn't faithfulness he was concerned about. She'd been the lover of a mage before, maybe he'd never had much of a chance to begin with. Roland had expected outrage and anger at that, but there simply wasn't any there. As much as he hated to admit it, while Vhaaja had been striving to be that someone else she longed to be, Roland had been changing too. He was no longer the Highever knight. He didn't know who he was, or what he felt. Most of the time he was just numb.

Vhaaja had been a welcome distraction, but at the end of the day he'd decided it was unfair to be upset at the Wilder when he'd only been half in it himself. He had a plethora of of things to process before he would be a fit compliment for any woman. There was no reason that after slaying darkspawn together they couldn't handle the situation as adults.

Almost as he planned it, a knock came at his door. Roland opened it to reveal a worried looking Vhaaja. Clutched against her was vibrant purple fabric, a fancy purple dress with ruffles to be precise. The look of distress on her petite, slightly elf-blooded, features brought a wry grin to his thin lips. He stepped to the side and let her sweep inside. With the door shut she held the gown out before her, nearly thrusting it upon him, "I can't accept this, I can't even believe you remembered."

"You don't like it?"

"I adore it."

"I don't see the problem then, there is no reason we have to end whatever this is between us with yelling and breaking things. There will always be an understanding between us," he said pulling out a chair from a small round table on the wall closest to the door. He motioned for her to sit before taking up the chair on the opposite side. She sat gingerly, folding the gown up so it wouldn't dust the floor, "I'm pretty sure my sister wore that when she was fifteen, by the way."

"Which proves at one point she did have taste," she quipped, her expression dancing with amusement before it turned serious again, "I tried, I really wanted us to work."

"As did I," he confessed, this was easier than it should have been. It had always been too easy between them. Those weren't the romances the bards sang tales about, "I'd still like it if you'd let me escort you. Unlike Helena I can't dig my heels in and refuse to go, Lorelai is still my sister. Our scholar has also declined his invitation. I don't think I'd survive it alone. Especially if Arl Howe deigns to appear. If he can pull himself away from Loghain and his attempts at civil war long enough that is."

"Is that...allowed? We can just keep being friends?" The idea seemed to perplex her.

"I don't see why not, you are just going to have to learn to keep your paws off me," he said with a melancholy smirk. It would only be awkward if they let it.

"That I shall," she said, returning it with one of her own.

oOo

-It appears your idiot mage has wizened up just in time for it to be inconvenient,- the demon responded when Vhaaja asked about her success in returning Jowan's errant memory. On one level she was proud of the man, but on the other she didn't quite trust Desire with it either. At least she knew Desire had no designs on using for him as a host. She closed the doors to the wooden wardrobe on the wall opposite the four poster bed, her dress was tucked safely inside. The Wilder then threw herself onto the soft mattress, letting the comfort envelope her, -We are stuck with it.-

-What is it even of?- Vhaaja asked with a yawn.

-Haven't a clue. Want me to peek?-

It was wrong, and she tried to resist. Her curiosity rose regardless. She should have remained steadfast, but found herself wondering what the harm would be. As soon as the demon felt the miniscule want flickering to life within Vhaaja's mind, Desire fanned the embers and made it burn until in a fit of frenzied passion a yes escaped her. Instantly she became absorbed in the demon's experience, at the same time vivid and surreal.

She filled her apprentice robes nicely, there was no denying it. Her breasts just right, held against her chest by the tightness of the garment, which accentuated her perky rump in a similar fashion. He often thanked the anonymous party responsible for the female Circle issue attire. He'd have blamed it on Irving, dirty old man, if mages, or was it magi, hadn't been wearing the same before his time. Her dark hair was twisted into a haphazard bun from which spirals escaped to frame her heart-shaped face. He couldn't see them from here, but Jowan had always thought her freckles were sort of cute.

"I know what I'm doing in the Fade tonight," Daylen said nudging Jowan with an elbow as he sat next to the other mage with a plate of food. While Amell was firmly under the belief he was being quiet, he was in fact doing a poor job of it. There were days he seriously doubted his uninhibited friend knew how to go about it. The woman narrowed her eyes in their direction. He was the one who had potion lessons with her later.

"Brilliant. She can hear you," Jowan hissed, pushing his drab looking meal around with his fork so that none of the separate components touched, as the Maker intended.

"Yeah she can," he responded, waving at her. Jowan noticed her grumbling to herself as she left. That was Daylen, making new friends everyday.

"Remind me again why I keep sitting next to you?"

"Just can't get enough of me it seems," Daylen replied with a roguish grin, tossing an arm around his shoulders. He was only slightly taller than Jowan, but had a wider, more robust build. Not only was he naturally gifted with innate aptitude in magic and the ability to pass a proficiency exam without the slightest hint of effort, Daylen was also dashingly handsome and irresistibly charismatic. There was simply no justice in the world, Jowan was ever the shadow to his friend's radiance, "Which makes me worry about you, obsession isn't healthy. Need to get yourself a girl."

"Leave off," he said shrugging away Daylen's arm. His idea of getting a girl was convincing one to let him ruck her against an alcove wall while a Templar had his back turned. It was something that had gotten old, and now made him long for something deeper and more meaningful. All the more reason he wanted his Harrowing, it'd be the only chance he'd have at it. At anything.

"Quick trysts are the whole reason we wear these robes, they fully expect it to happen. Its unnatural not to," Daylen insisted.

Jowan sighed heavily as an uneasiness settled in his gut, "You heard that from him don't even try to pull that off as your own wit."

"He escaped again a few nights ago, they haven't said anything about it of course," Daylen lowered his voice to a harsh whisper, proving that he was in fact capable of discretion and just chose not to use it most times. The mere mention of the older mage irritated Jowan, "This is his sixth time."

"Every time he gives Gregoir and Irving the laugh they just crack down harder on the rest of us. He's been caught five times too, and it won't be long before its six. The way you go on about him, its like Anders is some sort of folk hero," he paused, "but you want to be just like him don't you?"

"Only I won't get caught."

Of course he wouldn't. Jowan would, that was how it worked. Nothing bad ever happened to Amell, his life was a stroll through the fucking park. An intense flair of envious desire kindled to life suddenly and he could feel little else. He reigned it in just as quickly. Even if he was an arrogant, obnoxious know it all bastard; Daylen was still his best friend. And Jowan trusted him with his life.

The memory faded and again Vhaaja was fully aware of the bed beneath her. It had been the oddest experience of her life. For a sliver of time she and Desire had been Jowan. She'd known his friend, tasted his food, been surrounded by the scent of bodies and the sound of Templar plate as they shifted their weight in the background. She'd heard the din of a hundred voices, a few standing out above the others. She'd felt what it was like to have magic laying in wait, the sensation an echo of a forgotten time. Daylen's face had seemed familiar, after a second she realized it had been the same man who had been with Jowan as the Templars escorted him back to Kinloch Hold. No wonder he came to the Tranquil's defense. She got the feeling something had gone terribly wrong not too long after.

She'd readily recognized a name as well. Anders, her infamous knicker-weasel. It had been clear Jowan had held no love for the man. Vhaaja couldn't say she blamed him. To the Wilder's delight, beneath the man's quiet exterior was a fiery passion for life that could take the breath from her if she focused on it keenly. Jowan felt deeply, and strongly about so many things. Things she couldn't name but felt just the same. Now she'd had a taste of him, Vhaaja pined to know that side of him for herself and to learn what had happened to make one friend an apostate and the other Tranquil. It soon became apparent she was not the only one that craved more. Foreboding knotted in her stomach as she felt a prickle weave up through her mind as Desire spoke.

-I've decided what I want.-

A/N: Its a day late, but I figured it was better than rushing it. On the weekend I'm a paranormal investigartor, and I had two cases this weekend compounded with National Peeps Day saw that I had little time to myself. I hope every one enjoyed this installment, I especially liked getting to write Desire. I have a new idea in the works where I tell the demon's story, hopefully I'll have a decent chapter soon - its still in the brain storm phase mostly. I want to thank all my loyal readers and reviewers, and my lovely beta Sesegirl. Until next week folks!