Conquering the Ambassador
Falsehoods
Murmurs and whispers were around her, yet Ayre knew not if they were real. She wasn't quite asleep or awake; Stuck in a paralyzing limbo between the two. She willed her eyes to open and they disobeyed. Her arms were taken hold of, as if someone were trying to stand her up. They failed, and she was gingerly laid down again.
"-happened to her? Did her head-?" Cassandra's voice, brittle with concern. How far their friendship had come from the seeker threatening to slit her throat ear to ear over the Conclave.
"No, there's something-" Pain blossomed behind her eyes and was given voice; A roar deaf to herself yet startling all.
Her eyes finally opened, and she was awake. On her back, Ayre gazed up. Dorian and Cassandra were staring down at her, the tent over the three of them. The mage looked absolutely baffled, and the seeker drew her sword.
"Inquisitor, don't speak." She spoke, kneeling down as if she were a demon. Ayre obeyed, concern behind fade-touched eyes. Cassandra examined her, lips pulling down into a scowl as she surveyed her.
"There is… an edge in your voice."
"An edge?" Ayre spoke, startling herself into sitting up. There was an echo of her voice just moments behind the words, as if a separate entity was within her.
Her head protested the sudden elevation, and she carefully rested back. What in Thedas was that?
Cassandra's scowl was deeper, but she sheathed her sword. Dorian's fingers gently parted the thick hair at Ayre's left temple, exposing two thin scratches. They glowed with red lyirum, no doubt from the Behemoth's strike.
"Shit." Dorian spat, pulling his hands away as if they were stained. He gave an apologetic glance to Ayre, turning his gaze to Cassandra. "It's in her head, however little. It will grow unless we do something. Can't you-?"
"Not without killing her, I'm very certain." Cassandra's voice had a hardened tone, though nothing like the demonic echo of the Inquisitor's. Lifting a hand to her head, Ayre could feel it pulse.
It hurt, but maybe she could control it? She had control of the Anchor, after all. She tried to sit up, but that was still far too much.
"We need to get her back to Skyhold… Leliana, or even Varric may know what to do better than I." Cassandra seemed dual preoccupied; Her concern for Ayre outweighing her spite towards the dwarf.
"She can't even sit up, how can we possibly get her back?"
"Hey guys, I found the sled." The joy-filled voice was so out of place, Ayre snorted and held her head. The Iron Bull poked his head in, grinning. "We'll have to hurry if we want to get there quickly…"
"No horse would be able to pull all of us on that thing." Dorian tried to argue, but the qunari only smirked.
"Who said anything about a horse?"
At least no one could say that Skyhold wasn't without its quirks. However, a qunari impersonating a courier horse and dragging a very worn 'sled' was new. "Oof. That was a workout." Bull gently lowered the thing to the ground, iron bars rattling.
The guards at the gate eyed each other, very confused. The bark of the seeker thoroughly pulled them out. "Get a healer!" Cassandra ordered, gently laying a hand upon Ayre's brow.
The Inquisitor didn't seem worse for ware, until they tried to stand her up. She protested only with a set jaw, teeth gritting hard. Her head pulsed, and she hadn't said a word all through the trip.
Once on her feet, the weakness suddenly fled. Ayre stood with Cassandra bracing her side, the gates of Skyhold opening. "Is everyone-?" A woman exited, looking quite befuddled. From her robes, she was a mage… Could she feel the pulse too?
Ayre felt a flicker of fear rise, and she shifted to hide behind the seeker instead. Cassandra glowered, and the healer cleared her throat. "Ah, forgive me. Come, let us… attend."
A crow sang overhead, the shrill noise irritating the Inquisitor. Ayre whipped her hand out, and grasped the bird by its throat. Dorian stared, utterly concerned by the woman's well-being.
Realizing what she had done Ayre quickly set the crow down. It was a little worse off than it had been; Little feet stumbling before it gave a hoarse squawk of indignation. It flew off again, up towards the rookery. A shimmer of blue was noted in the window before it was gone.
Now Leliana would be on her way…
The Inquisitor grasped Cassandra's arm tight as they strode in, lips against the seeker's ear. She whispered, but the echo remained. "Josephine?" She felt the older woman stiffen at her side, no doubt trying to remain impassive to her voice.
"I will keep her away, however hard that may be."
"Nonsense. I got this." Bull grinned, covering his good eye to make Ayre snicker. She covered her mouth instead, not sure how that would sound. He strode off towards the grand hall, leaving them with the surgeons and merchants down below.
Ayre grimaced, unsure of how many should be aware of her current condition. She shook her head, tugging Cassandra towards the steps.
"To your quarters?" The older woman began to escort her there, giving glares to anyone who watched. "Can you make it up the stairs?"
The Inquisitor wasn't even sure how she was standing. Ayre gave a slight nod, trying to pass her grip on Cassandra off as friendly flirting. No one seemed to give a second glance, except for the templars.
Could they sense it? Ayre swallowed thickly, ignoring them as they made way into the grand hall. Varric was sure to be close, right?
"Seeker, if you glare any harder, you'll be turning things to stone." His teasing tone ceased once met with their glances. "Alright… I'll bite. What's wrong?"
Cassandra glanced to Ayre, then back to the dwarf. "Come with us to the Inquisitor's quarters- none of your stupid jokes." She glared once seeing the smirk, and Varric shrugged.
"Suit yourself, it was a good one." He followed after them, noting Bull blocking the door of Josephine's office.
"Is the Inquisitor back, then?" Ayre heard the Antivan accent and rushed towards her quarters, fumbling with the door. Varric cocked a brow, keeping his silence until they arrived.
"Inquisitor. Do you make it a point to harass my birds?" Leliana was perched atop the generous bed, caressing the still ruffled feathers of that crow. Ayre glared at it, checking to make sure they were alone before closing the doors to her balcony.
"Leliana…" Cassandra wasn't quite sure how to explain it.
"Hey, if red joins us, it'll cost you." Varric teased, and the seeker huffed in annoyance.
"Quiet." Ayre's voice startled them all, even as Cassandra tried to look stoic. Varric's mouth fell open, his eyes narrowing.
Leliana let her crow go, shooing it out a window in the alcove above. "What is the meaning of this?" She asked, a hand behind her back. Ayre was sure a dagger was hidden, and she slipped back into place behind Cassandra.
"You touched red lyrium, Inquisitor?" Varric accused, watching the redhead frown tightly.
"A behemoth struck her, she has… minimal scratches." Cassandra was unsure of how to put it, exactly.
Leliana seemed to calm down enough to hide her dagger, approaching. "Let us see." She ordered, grasping Ayre to sit her on the couch. The Inquisitor fidgeted nervously, closing her eyes in pain when Cassandra brushed her hair back.
Since it was such a miniscule amount, it had yet to start growing. The thin scratches had widened just so, enough for the seeker to notice. "The… wound has progressed, a centimeter?" Even she couldn't be sure.
"It hurts." Her voice caused Leliana to scowl deeply, trying to shake off the feeling. It reminded her of blighted creatures; No doubt because red lyrium contained the blight itself.
"No shit." Varric huffed, trying to get a closer look without decreasing the distance between them. "It's evil…"
"At first, she could not even lift her head nor sit up. Now, she can stand-"
"And gets angry easily, I think." Leliana interrupted the seeker, eyes surveying Ayre.
"It could definitely affect her mood, it's eating into her brain!" Varric exclaimed, getting a glare from the Inquisitor. "I mean, I'm sure we can… figure some way to have you not die a horrible painful death… Or become a statue."
"Because being a statue is much better." Ayre's echoing voice betrayed her dry wit, and only served to make the other three shudder.
"What… exactly can be done?" Leliana chose her words carefully, looking to Cassandra. The seeker scowled, not knowing.
"Some have been fed red lyrium, little by little." She murmured, unease creasing her brow. "This isn't as dangerous, nor as fast spreading. We have time to think of a way to cure this, but not as much as we may need."
Leliana crossed her arms tightly, lips pursed. "I will try and contact Parthena. She may have an idea." With a nod, she descended the stairs and left the room. Varric simply shrugged, making a wide turn to avoid Ayre before leaving as well.
"Prick." Ayre grumbled, making Cassandra snort. The older woman gently brushed her hair back again, eyeing the wound. The lyrium within pulsed; Glowing only faintly and easily hidden by crimson locks.
"I cannot imagine how that must feel." Cassandra sat by her side, turning to face her. Ayre grinned, though red danced in the outer edges of her vision. She closed her eyes, sighing with dual voices.
"If this doesn't renew my headache, my voice will." She grumbled softly, hearing steps up from her door. Cassandra stood, hurriedly making her way towards the stairs.
"Oh, Lady Montilyet-" She blurted, far too loud suddenly. Ayre gave her a look of surprise, making hand motions. Unfortunately, Cassandra couldn't keep Josephine at bay; The Antivan quirking a brow to them both once she reached the landing.
"Is the Inquisitor injured?" Josephine tested the waters, but between Cassandra's fast denial and Ayre's hesitance, had her true answer. "How badly?"
Ayre glanced to Cassandra, setting her jaw again. She would not speak in front of Josephine, no matter how hard that would be. The seeker regained her composure, clearing her throat.
"A lightning spell. She'll be a bit weak on her feet, and her voice is… gone. For now." The seeker glanced quickly to Ayre, receiving a thankful nod. Josephine eyed between them, but most of her disbelief was suspended.
"Ah, well, that explains why The Iron Bull wanted honey."
Ayre stared, trying hard not to furrow her brows in confusion. Instead, she quirked a brow whimsically and shrugged; A look of amusement taking hold.
Cassandra chuckled, taking her leave. "Somehow, I don't think that's relevant."
Josephine smiled to Ayre, taking a seat beside her. "Then, you are truly well? Nothing more terrible than that?"
The redhead shook her head, smiling now. She was thankful the scratches lay deep beneath unruly crimson locks; Even undoing her silver clasp to let them fall fully. Josephine smiled warmly, her posture relaxing from her previous guard.
"Good… I would hate to think you may be keeping something from me." She commented innocently, though it was clear what she was doing. The Antivan used to be a bard, after all. She had noticed something wasn't quite right, and was now trying to weed it out.
Ayre simply smirked, wagging a finger at Josephine playfully. If she could avoid the ambassador finding out, maybe she would feel better. Then again, what if she couldn't be fixed? Her smirk struggled until she just grinned, thoughts racing.
If the red lyrium couldn't be removed, she just lost time. Precious time to defeat Corypheus, to heal the sky… to spend with Josephine? Throat tightening, Ayre was glad that Josephine looked away; Her face contorting into grief before she reset it.
No, she shouldn't think like that. If anyone could find a cure for such a thing, it was the Inquisition. Now, however long that would take…
Shaking her head, Ayre smiled again and leaned into Josephine's side. She listened to the Antivan speak of all the things she had missed; Relaxation seeping in deeper to her bones. She would be fine, as long as she had Josephine by her side.
Not speaking was harder than she thought it would be. Ayre sat at the long table, waiting to be served. Josephine sat on her side, Cassandra at the other. The ambassador was surprised when Leliana seated herself opposite; Usually the spymaster took her meals in the rookery.
"One cannot eat there every night." Leliana smiled, tossing back one of Josephine's old comments. The Antivan chuckled softly, nodding in recognition. She was still suspicious of if there were more wrong, but nothing seemed amiss.
Varric opted out of dinner, citing writer's block. The Iron Bull passed Ayre a small jar of honey, shrugging when Josephine wasn't looking. Though when the ambassador returned her gaze, Ayre eagerly spooned a small amount into her tea and took a sip.
Except it wasn't honey. It was vinegar. Ayre sputtered, covering her mouth as she stood. Everyone's eyes were on her, most confused and a select few terrified.
Josephine watched her with a calculating stare, even if she seemed to regret her decision to fool the Inquisitor. She had snuffed out the lie, and made it impossible to deny at this point.
Ayre swallowed thickly, taking a confused Cassandra's water tankard to drown down the vinegar. "Josephine!" She roared, startling most of the table's occupants.
"Fucking piss shite, what the fuck was that?!" Sera almost jumped out of her skin, an arrow held within one hand. To her credit, the ambassador appeared unaffected.
"I knew there was something else." Josephine's own voice was steely, and she stood to cross her arms. "I would be grateful for an explanation." She spoke, gaze fixated on Ayre.
The younger covered her mouth, damning herself for being so foolish. Cassandra stood, sighing as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "It is… a little complicated."
Josephine scoffed softly. "I would imagine so, with that… voice." She eyed Ayre up again, as if to make sure she wasn't a demon. That was occurring quite often today…
"Let's discuss this in private, shall we?" Leliana stood, escorting a haughty Josephine from the dining room. Unsure of whether to follow, Ayre stood there dumbly.
"Uh… I'd like an 'explanation' too, demon voice." Sera waved her hand, slipping the arrow back into the quiver on the ground. Dorian glanced about, fidgeting with his hands.
Blackwall quirked a brow, Vivienne only seemingly partially interested. Cole entered the room, his voice filling the uncomfortable silence.
"Maker, it hurts. Every step sends an ache to my skull. The red lyrium can't grow from such small scratches, can it? Should have been more careful, less like the warrior Cassandra is. Perhaps I should opt to use a bow instead of daggers. But the thrill of the fight is so important, one can't hide away in shadows forever." He neared Ayre, raising a hand to her wound.
She winced but let him, wary of what he could do. The spirit only seemed to observe, letting crimson locks hide them area away again.
"It bleeds into your head. You'll see things, not there. Hear them, too. Almost like being in the fade, but never quite so disorienting. When these things happen in the waking world, you get angry."
Ayre wasn't sure which was worse; The accusing stares of some of her friends, or the red creeping in further into her vision. There was only but a small circle of original color left in her field of vision, all else being eaten away by the reddened blight.
At this rate, she may go blind before succumbing to the red plague.
AN: Muahahahaha. Now, there is very little to be found on curing red lyrium sickness. I did find, however, that red lyrium needs more and more to actually take over a host. So, these small scratches will not lead to anything dire, but as it is still unnatural, there will be... interesting side effects. I also have a very unorthodox way of handling it, so look out for the next chapter! Please, review!