I should probably mention up front that the Goat-Guy judgment isn't one of the ones done here, as much as I love that one. I took a vastly different direction with the Fallow Mire (as you probably know) and it wasn't Nanyehi who killed the chieftain's son, thus the chieftain wouldn't be obligated to go after HER.
Big thanks to those of you who've given me support for this, and a big welcome to those of you who are new followers. Hope you enjoy!
Judgment Day
"Solas!" Finn called, jogging into the round chamber below the rotunda. He spotted Solas up on the scaffolding, working on one of his expansive wall murals. "Hey."
"Ah, Finirial." Solas set his paints down in a bucket and regarded him from above, then climbed nimbly down the ladder. "Is there something I can do for you?"
"Nope." Finn sat down on the table's surface, bracing his hands on the flat wood behind him and leaning back against them. "Just came by to talk. They're setting up the main hall for all of the judgments Nani is scheduled to do today, so I thought I'd catch up with you."
Solas looked at him quietly for a moment, his expression unreadable as it always was, completely illegible, like a book whose ink lines had all but faded away. Then he eased into a mild half smile. "You never do what I expect of you."
"That a good thing or a bad thing?" Finn asked.
"A welcome thing, in this case," Solas answered.
Finn craned his head around, studying Solas's paintings—colorful frescos encircling the walls by half, depicting symbols and abstract figures. Solas really did have a talent for this, amongst many other things.
"What do you think Corypheus will do, now that we've taken the Wardens?" Finn mused aloud. "Other than cry in a corner, I'm assuming."
"You ask me?" Solas said. He almost sounded defensive. "What makes you think I might be able to predict his motives?"
"Because you know things others don't," Finn said. "You visit all these incredible places in your dreams and find memories none of us could ever hope to discover. Maybe you're as 'in the dark' as the rest of us are, but…you've never steered us wrong. So I thought maybe you'd have a prediction."
Solas's brows lifted just a touch. "My poor manners shame me, then."
Finn waved a hand dismissively. "No shame intended."
"No doubt Corypheus intends to throw Orlais into chaos," Solas said, pacing a step sideways and touching his chin in thought. "Nanyehi has shamed him by destroying Haven, escaping herself, and taking his Wardens out from under his grasp. He is mad with power and lusts for godhood—he will not leave her slights unanswered."
Finn dwelled on that, lifting his hands and studying the blue lines of vallaslin. When he glanced up at Solas, the other mage looked down at Finn's hands as well…and cringed.
Finn cocked his head, but Solas offered no explanation for his reaction.
"Can someone really do that?" Finn said. "Just become a god like he's trying to do?"
Solas didn't answer his question, not directly. "What do you think of the gods? Your elven ones?"
"I…don't know." And it was an odd thing to admit out loud. "All Firsts are primed to be devout. We study, meditate, pray, grieve, and yet I've always wondered—what are the gods? Are gods just powerful spirits? It's stuffed down our throats that the Dread Wolf sealed them away in a fit of wickedness or something, but we have no proof of that; or any of it, really. So I guess that was a long-winded way of saying I'm not sure what to think. I like to see things to believe them." He cut himself off. "Sorry, I just rambled at you."
"Do not apologize." Solas shook his head, shifting on his feet. "You do nothing wrong by questioning what the Dalish taught you."
"I just made your day, didn't I?" Finn teased. He knew Solas disapproved of much of what the Dalish did. And said. And thought. "It'd be nice, to be able to do what you do. Bend the Beyond around what you want to see. Maybe then I'd know more."
Solas idly brushed a bit of lint off his tunic. "And the prospect of encountering spirits does not frighten you?"
"No." Finn chuckled breathily. "I'm a mage. I'm familiar enough with the Beyond. And there are all kinds of spirits in the Beyond. What harm is there in learning things from one? Not everything has bad intentions."
"You take a viewpoint not many of the Dalish would dare to."
"In case you haven't noticed…I hardly act Dalish. Even I recognize that."
"You are right." Solas nodded once in agreement. "It is rare for the Dalish to produce such an open, curious mind. You have an extraordinary view of the world, Finirial."
"Careful," Finn said, grinning, "you almost sound like you like me."
Solas responded with a light laugh. "Is that such a travesty?"
"Obviously," Finn joked. He fidgeted, toying with his fingers. "I did have a question for you, actually."
"Speak, then."
"There's really no other way to say this—my barrier spells aren't where they should be, by now." Swallowing, Finn flickered his eyes down for just a second. He'd been noticing this the past few fights, his inability to cover more than one person with a barrier no matter how hard he tried. "And it's kind of awkward, because being a knight-enchanter relies on barriers. I've always drawn the most strength from the ones other people put on me. Mine don't last as long and I can only cover one person with them. And I know none of that was a question, so I'll get to the point: is there anything I can do to improve it? I don't know what I'm doing wrong."
"I could insist you practice, but that might be an exercise in futility." Solas thought quietly for a moment. "We live differently from what I have seen of ancient Arlathan in dreams. We are closed away from much of magic. Perhaps you are meant to do other things than create barriers."
"That's not really an option," Finn said softly. "Nani's been putting me on the front lines more and more. I have to get better."
"Are you the only one fighting each battle, Finirial?" Solas said pointedly.
Finn shook his head. "No, you're right. I'm not."
"Then let me promise you this, my friend." Solas's eyes were fixed on him, storm-blue. "You will always have my barrier, when I am present to give it."
Finn rather wanted to turn this moment cheesy and hug the shit out of Solas, but he had a feeling the other elf would burn the rotunda to the ground if Finn suddenly tackled him. So he refrained, smiling instead. "And I'll do my best to put good use to it."
"Of that I have no doubt." Solas looked sideways at the doorway. "Ah, I hear voices."
"Then people are probably filtering in to get seats so they can watch." Finn shrugged. "I think Skyhold is composed of ninety-percent sadists." He hopped off the desk and stood. "And I'm about to make myself look really awkward and hypocritical by joining the viewers. I suppose you'll keep painting?"
Solas nodded. "My interest in how your sister fares as a judge does not outweigh my distaste at willingly joining a crowd of gawkers. I will hear of her decisions through word of mouth, no doubt."
"I'll tell you how it goes myself, if I remember." Finn gestured a quick farewell, then left for the main hall.
Nanyehi had never been anywhere more terrifying in her entire life. Possibly even counting the sojourn through the Fade.
She sat with her back perfectly straight on the throne on the dais in Skyhold's main hall, her wine-red hair done up in a braided up-do, courtesy once again of Josephine. The hall teemed with people, most of them sitting in chairs that servants had set up ringing the hall. If she looked, she knew she'd find familiar faces in the crowd, but she didn't want to focus on them; she wanted the hall to be a sea of faceless people so sitting under their collective scrutiny seemed less personal.
It was impossible to miss Bull's horns, though. She'd spotted him a little while ago, standing with his Chargers in tow, watching her with a scrutinizing eye. She had no clue what he'd pass to the Ben-Hassrath in his reports; no doubt some of her judgments here would easily make the cut.
Folding her hands tightly in her lap, Nani straightened her back even more, waiting for the first real judgment.
The scattered property disputes she'd been settling for the past hour hadn't really felt legitimate, for her. The first had been a man complaining about twelve missing chickens—which she knew to have been Cole, for whatever reason—and another had been regarding a squabble over who had the right to one of the rooms over the garden. Not to mention the ten-minute argument between two Orlesian noblewomen about if they were allowed to pluck flowers from the garden for their hats.
Nani wanted to bury herself in a hole, cover it with dirt, and never come out.
"I believe many of us have been anxious for this judgment, Lady Inquisitor," Josephine said, offering Nani a secret encouraging smile when she turned her way. Two armed guards led a prisoner in Tevene-styled robes along the makeshift aisle between the two sides of the crowd. "You recall Gereon Alexius of Tevinter. Ferelden has given him to us as acknowledgment of your aid."
Alexius lifted his head and looked Nani dead in the eye, his expression flat and dull. He looked completely defeated; she almost felt guilty for leaving him unjudged for so long.
But his actions had nearly thrown Thedas into devastation. Had gotten Finn impaled through the gut on a terror demon's talon. She hadn't forgotten how her older brother had nearly bled to death on the floor in Redcliffe's castle.
"The formal charges are apostasy, attempted enslavement, and attempted assassination—on a few of our own lives, no less," Josephine said, her amber-brown gaze shifting from Alexius to Nanyehi. "Tevinter has disowned him and stripped him of his rank. You may judge the former magister as you see fit."
Nani swallowed.
"I recognize these charges," she said. Finn nearly lost his life because of you. "Have you anything to say, Alexius?"
Alexius's expression crumpled. "I couldn't save my son. Do you think my fate matters to me?" His tone was pure acid. "A storm comes, Inquisitor. Render your judgment—no decision you make will change that."
No, perhaps nothing would.
Nani cast a glance sideways.
Dorian wasn't hard to spot, dressed in impeccable white and grey-shaded armored robes as he so often was. Not to mention Finn's ice-white hair was a beacon in itself. Dorian had his arms over his chest and his lips thinned, obviously in anticipation of her judgment; Nani hadn't forgotten he'd asked her not to be needlessly cruel with Alexius.
It's okay, Finn mouthed from where he stood right at Dorian's side, offering her an encouraging smile.
"Magister Alexius," Nani said, "A few of us here personally witnessed how you made the impossible happen in Redcliffe. And I'm not too keen on throwing your talents and knowledge away." She reminded herself not to fidget, but it was easier than she'd been anticipating. "As such, I am charging you with being a researcher of the arcane for the Inquisition. You will be under surveillance, and I will choose what you research, but you will be free to work as you please and put your talents to use."
"No execution?" Alexius said. It didn't sound very much like a question.
"Of all the people who have served Corypheus so far, yours are the only motivations I understand," she said. "And I do sympathize for Felix's loss. I nearly lost family, myself. But I won't justify the mercy killing you may want when the Inquisition could greatly benefit from your talents. Maybe you'll find some amount of joy in your research." Like Dorian said you used to.
"Very well," Alexius said, meeting her gaze. "Maybe I shall."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dorian's tight expression relax, the worry lines vanishing from his forehead and between his eyes. Alexius had been a mentor to him once, a teacher, a father figure; she knew the sentence mattered to him. Dorian looped an arm loosely around Finn's shoulders, catching Nanyehi's glance when she looked over.
He'd saved Finn's life by hauling him to a healer when she'd thought all hope had been lost, when she'd been ready to tear into Alexius and consumed by her own blind rage. She owed Dorian the world, if not just this one judgment outcome.
The crowd murmured amongst themselves, but Nani refused to tune her sensitive elven ears into any of their hushed conversations. She was the Inquisitor; she had to make decisions and stick with them, even when they were difficult ones to make.
"The Inquisitor has spoken," Josephine said, as the guards once again led Alexius down the aisle—less roughly this time, and in the opposite direction. "Now, we've another matter to attend to that many of you have personal opinions on." She turned her head to the aisleway, her expression calmly neutral. "I must introduce Mayor Gregory Dedrick of Crestwood, who is present for betraying his own constituents during the Fifth Blight."
The mayor looked much less calm than Alexius had as the guards brought him in; his eyes flickered nervously around the room as some people regarded him with very little care in their eyes and others spat on the floor. Leliana, standing silently on Nani's left, cringed each time someone spat, as though she found the act vile.
"He confesses that ten years ago, he flooded Old Crestwood to kill refugees and villagers touched by the Blight," Josephine said. "The mayor claims it was to spare the rest of Crestwood, but we have only his word."
Dedrick visibly worked his lower jaw back in forth in obvious stress, his skin pale and beaded slightly with sweat. "There's no cure for the Blight! But I couldn't convince anyone to leave a sick child or husband behind."
"So you herded the infected into one place and flooded Old Crestwood?" Josephine said. "Were no innocents caught in the waters?"
"Nearly everyone in the village had the Blight, I swear it!" The mayor wrung his hands together, shackles clanking. "Have mercy. I couldn't tell the survivors I'd drowned their own families to save them. I…couldn't."
What felt like a million expectant eyes turned to Nanyehi.
"I have no experience with the Blight and insufficient knowledge of it," Nani said. "I would like to call the Warden-Constable of Ferelden, Warden Mahariel, forward for input."
Even she wondered herself why her first call hadn't been to Warden Blackwall; the thought occurred to her only after she'd spoken Shesi's name. The small, olive-skinned Dalish woman approached from wherever she'd been standing or sitting in the hall, her mahogany brown hair neatly brushed for probably the first time Nanyehi had ever seen.
"I'll offer what input I can," Shesi said, standing on the steps of the dais and casually leaning on one hip. She turned to face the crowd. "It would do us all well to remember that dying from Blight sickness is an agonizing, brutal, and inhumane way to go. Ferelden did everything it could to survive the darkspawn onslaught, by any means necessary, as did we." A long pause. "As a Grey Warden, Inquisitor, I can't make this judgment for you, nor do I want to. But nothing is cut-and-dry when it comes to a Blight. Keep that in mind."
She remained on the steps, waiting, offering Nanyehi at least her physical presence and support even though she'd refused to make any final judgments.
And she was right. As the Inquisitor…Nani needed to be at the head of every single decision.
"Mayor Dedrick," Nani said, her back stiff from sitting so ramrod straight, "your actions killed many when you flooded the caves. However, the darkspawn killed many more." Her palms felt sweaty. "And right now, we're faced with an equally great catastrophe. Rifts and demons threaten and destroy innocents all over Thedas. You will, under supervision, be a part of the relief efforts for refugees and survivors wherever help is needed. Understand that incredibly taxing physical labor will be asked of you." She could feel the knots and cords in her shoulders. "This is how you will help Ferelden survive our current crisis and repay your debts to it."
Shesi silently nodded her approval.
"I will not throw away this chance, Inquisitor," the mayor said—earnestly, from what she could tell.
Josephine dismissed him with a gesture, and the guards led him away. Shesi stepped off the dais and joined Zevran and Warden Surana at the back of the crowd; Nani spotted their blond heads, Zevran's silvery blond and Ellairia's soft locks the color of pale wheat.
She knew Sera had expressed a vehement desire to see Dedrick lose his head for what he'd done. Others probably thought similarly. And Nani didn't like losing approval from her closest companions, but she had to do what she thought was right.
Quietly, she sucked in a deep, slow breath and blew it out through her nose.
"We have one more judgment of note on this day," Josephine said. "Might I present Lord Livius Erimond of Vyrantium, who remains loyal to Corypheus after the events of Adamant Fortress."
Adamant. The event that had single-handedly thrown her and her companions physically into the Fade, broken River Hawke's shinbone, thrust Cassandra into a world she dreaded to think of even now, coated Finn in parasitic ice that nearly stopped his heart, advanced Ellairia's fake Calling to the point that she'd collapsed after casting a healing spell, and sent Warden Stroud to his certain doom.
One could say Nani had vivid personal hatred for Livius Erimond, way more so than what she thought she'd had for Alexius.
The magister still wore his favorite sneer as he was escorted to stand in front of her; Nani cast her eyes around the room for a moment. River had Fenris's hand clasped tight in hers, and the other clamped on Varric's shoulder, as if the three were drawing support from each other—or convincing each other not to murder Erimond where he stood. Fenris had noticeably paled, his brows drawn together, every muscle taut.
She shifted her eyes, saw Iron Bull and Krem simultaneously crack their knuckles, and nearly chuckled at the subtle gesture.
"I can't believe you found him alive," Nanyehi said. She'd watched Clarel tear into him with a shock spell before the bridge came down.
"It seems he managed to escape the same fate that happened to you," Josephine said. "We found him very much alive and offering extreme resistance, likely because the Order will ask for his head. In more colorful terms, quite possibly."
Nani nodded. "Let's make the most of this opportunity, then."
"I recognize none of these proceedings," Erimond spat. "You have no authority to judge me."
"I have every authority to judge you," Nani corrected. "Your crimes may have been committed on Orlesian soil, but they were against the Grey Wardens and against the Inquisition."
"Many officials have communicated that they will defer to the Inquisitor in this matter," Josephine supplied. "As such, the floor is yours, Inquisitor."
"Because they fear." Erimond pulled his upper lip back in a sort of disgusted snarl. "Not just Corypheus, but Tevinter, rightful ruler of every piece of ground you've trod in your pathetic—"
"Gag him, please," Nani interrupted.
One of the guards fished a rag out of his pocket and stuffed it in Erimond's mouth. From the side of the room, Nani heard Finn laugh softly.
"Now that I truly have the floor," Nani said, meeting Erimond's hateful gaze dead-on, "I think I'll take a moment to remind you that the 'god' you so lovingly served has abandoned you to us and never looked back."
Erimond grunted something unintelligible around the gag.
"Despite injuries and losses taken by the Inquisition at Adamant, it was the Grey Wardens who suffered the most from your crimes." Nani stood, crossing her slender arms over her chest. "And it will be a Grey Warden who brings you to justice." She paced a step sideways. "As we all know, Clarel de Chansons, Commander of the Grey in Orlais, lost her life at Adamant Fortress. In her absence, I will defer your impending execution to Corvis Nalida, Commander of the Grey in Ferelden. You will be held prisoner indefinitely until Commander Nalida is present, to execute you in any manner and with any speed he sees fit."
Erimond's eyes narrowed murderously, and he jerked forward a little, chains rattling, but the guards held him in place. Satisfied, Nani allowed the tiniest of smiles to creep onto her face.
Not the reaction she'd been expecting, after his reported gushing during his prison stay about how glory awaited for him in the next world. He must've been fairly confident Corvis would make him suffer in this one.
This time, for this…she had no sympathy.
It took Skyhold's occupants what felt like weeks to clear out of the main hall.
A headache throbbed behind Nani's eyes; she made a mental note to check with Warden Surana and see if she had any elfroot or prophet's laurel to offer for the ache. She didn't even have the willpower to meditate after the long day of judgments—all she really wanted to do at the moment was soak in a bath scented with lavender soap and fall asleep.
"Such a trying day for you, darling," Lady Vivienne said in passing, sweeping through the hall with her shoulders held regally high. "You look positively ill. Do try to rest."
Nani honestly couldn't tell if that was concern or an insult.
The urge to hug someone, however uncharacteristic it might be, surged through her; luckily, it was Dorian who was closest to her after the hall cleared out, so she threw herself at him and squeezed around his middle.
"Goodness, that's quite the hug," Dorian said, returning it with equal amounts of affection. He felt warm and safe, and smelled pleasantly like smoke and Tevene spices; no wonder Finn was always smiling. "You did well, Nanyehi. Although I'm going to have to scold you if you keep attempting to break my ribs."
"Sorry." A bit calmer, Nani pulled away from Dorian, then found Finn next to him and hugged him.
Creators, her brother gave incredible hugs too. But she'd always known that. He'd raised her, after all, since she was only a toddler. His hugs felt like a warm blanket, a cozy aravel under a Starkhaven night sky, a breath of fresh air.
"You did better than I would," Finn said, holding her tight. His wavy white hair tickled her cheek. "I would've sentenced Erimond to give a cucumber a blowjob in the middle of the hall. Probably for the best you never follow in my footsteps."
Nani snorted, pulling away.
"Frosty, you are an absolute wealth of hilariously awful dialogue." Varric strode up to them, twirling a quill pen in his fingers. "And nice patience up there, Sharpshot. Especially with the hat bullshit. I think that earns you a round of ale tonight, on the house. Or, on the dwarf. Even if you don't want it."
She…she had a nickname now?
Nani beamed.
"Dorian," River said, not quite approaching them, "Finn, could I talk to you both for a moment? It won't take long, I promise."
Dorian and Finn looked at each other, Finn shrugged, and both apparently decided without words to just go with it. They followed River out of the main hall, and Varric went to find Fenris, pulling him some conversation Nani decided not to eavesdrop on.
She didn't stand alone for long.
"Inquisitor," Blackwall said, approaching her. "I know sitting up there for hours tried your patience. And yet you still answered every crime and grievance with a clear head and the Inquisition's best interests in your mind." He smiled warmly, and she tried not to be too fascinated by his absolutely mesmerizing beard. "It's been a pleasure to follow you. To stand at your side."
"You sound like you're leaving," Nani said. "Or like one of us is about to die."
"None of those, if I can help it." Blackwall chuckled; his laugh was raspy, rough. "It helps every leader to know where their followers stand, and this is where I stand. You're a special woman, Inquisitor."
She barely had time to react to that before he bade her farewell for the day and strode away. But she smiled, even though he didn't see it.
Perhaps the bath could wait. Nani hesitated a moment, then strode out of the hall herself, heading where she knew Cassandra would be. A visit to her, first, maybe have a seat and chug a canteen of water; then she'd jog up to the ramparts and spend a little time with Cullen.
Maybe there were people who hadn't liked her judgments. She knew she'd gain disapproval from some. But even so, to have her companions and family at her side and at her back…she felt a sense of contentment that hadn't come easily to her in a long, long while.
