Remorseless Pride
Looking down on Vivienne I speak coldly.
'Be grateful for wolf's interference, for if I had it my way, you would be in a much sorrier state. Bitch.' And it is so damn good being able to fully express the disdain I've long felt for her. Without wasting any more time on her, I turn around and, caressing slightly Wolf's cheek in goodbye, march in the direction of awaiting me Nervlis.
He falls into step at my back, commenting jokingly as we enter our temporary quarters,
'You know, it is generally not in a good taste to murder one's allies.'
'Even when they really, really piss me off?' I whine in protest, flashing him a pleading smile. He shakes his head with mock-seriousness, but an amused tug of his lips betrays him.
I wave him off while entering a study assigned to me. Wings have already moved all of my stuff here; likely because there wasn't a lot of it. But there's a whole stack of reports - adjusted for supply loss, catalogued injuries as well as Valeria's estimation of how these will affect us, and relocation recommendations for the most injured and their replacements. Seeing the large pile on my desk makes me want to turn around and leave
When Fenris comes in some time later, I welcome him like a ray of hope. However, as he salutes me formally, my initial happiness at his arrival wanes. He does not speak, but I do not need words to figure out what he has come for. We can't put it off any longer, it's unfair to Esme and Ebareth. Closing my eyes with defeated sigh, I command him,
'Go ahead with it.'
Once doors close after him with a soft click, I stand up from uncomfortable wooden chair, abandoning the evils of paperwork. My mood had plummeted so far down I am unable to look at it anymore. Without backwards glance I leave the confines of my office, and climb up a couple flight of stairs.
The sun has set a while ago, and the wind is getting a bit chilly; even on this vast frying pan of a desert. Breathing in deeply I swing my legs off the parapet, letting them dangle above the courtyard. Looking below I entertain a thought what it would be like to drop down; only this time without covering for the fall with magic.
Of course, soon irritatingly reasonable part of my mind tells me I would likely suffer debilitating injuries… but my death is not likely. Knowing my luck I would end up crippled, and my pride would force me to pull through regardless. I already had half-leg once; I can imagine having half of spine would be much less fun.
And then there's Fen to consider. Regardless of my wishes, I doubt he would let me go without fight. I can't pull him along my depression.
I sigh regretfully, glancing down with longing. It would certainly spare me the many decisions I would rather not make.
Hearing heavy steps from downstairs, I roll my eyes with irritation. No rest for the wicked.
It is only Hawke, who looks at me with a mixture of relief and annoyance.
'Did you really have to climb up this high for a moment of privacy?' He huffs somewhat breathlessly.
I glance up at the twinkling stars, not feeling like justifying myself.
'I think getting more training would keep you more fit. You are out of practice, Hawke.'
'Give me but a moment and I will prove you wrong.' Flirtatious note enters his voice, and I back away from him, shuddering.
'Did you need something?' I ask snappishly, ready to chase him away. I do have more important things to consider than an overfamiliar shem with a penchant of hitting on anything relatively feminine. I have heard enough stories from Bethany to be suspicious of his intentions.
'It's stronger than me.' Hawke looks sheepish, shrugging with an apologetic smile.
I nod in acknowledgement, but otherwise dismiss him from the forefront of my mind, deliberating over the inevitable changes in Wings. We need people to replace the missing numbers in leadership… The problem is I do not feel like anyone is really prepared for that kind of responsibility. I have been monitoring a couple of most promising agents, but no one really fits the bill.
'I would like to thank you.' Hawke's voice startles me out of my musings, and I realize he hasn't gone anywhere.
'There's no need. Bethany has earned her place on her own merit.'
'I was not speaking of my sister.' I glance at him in silent enquiry, and he turns his gaze away uneasily. 'Varric told me you had assisted Isabella during her escape. I was the reason for her return, and yet I failed her. I wanted to spare her but I had to weigh her life against countless others. I am grateful you were there to pick up the pieces.'
I keep the truth behind the so-called escape to myself. There's no need to delve in and complicate matters - and in any case, Valotaar is long dead. Exalting his name in front of Hawke has no meaning.
'If I could ask you to relay my apologies to Isabela.' He looks sincere, but I bristle nonetheless. I will not be playing a messenger; I've got more important stuff to deal with.
'Tell her yourself.' I growl irritably. Hawke looks at me pleadingly, and even in spite of the darkness I can see his sadness, expressed in slumped shoulders and shadowed eyes.
'I doubt she would see me.' The defeated tone finally clues me in. I had not considered the possibility before, but now it seems obvious - of course they have been lovers. Two notorious flirts, clearly interested in one another? It could not have ended otherwise.
Suddenly, I can see his choice in even more favourable light than before. It must have torn his heart out, making her go with Valotaar. And how betrayed Isabela must have felt!
It also casts another light on Isabela's random streak of lovers in recent years. I have always felt like there was a hidden depth to her playing around, ever since she came to Wings. A hidden desperation to never spend a night alone. Now I wonder if she still hurts.
I glance at Hawke again, and bite my lip in consideration. Maybe we could make use of each other.
'Got any plans once this is over?'
He is clearly thrown by the sudden change of topic, but replies nonetheless.
'Nothing specific.'
'Well then. Now you do. Welcome to the team. Nervlis will tell you all you need to know.' He looks at me in utter bewilderment. I put my hand on his shoulder, and squeeze it reassuringly. 'Isabela will be back in Minrathous in two months. It should be enough for you to get comfortably settled in… And good luck, Hawke.'
You are going to need it.
I jump down from the parapet and walk away, fighting off the urge to whistle triumphantly. It has not solved my problems, not by a longshot - but Hawke is a very talented individual, for all quirks of his character. I have no idea how his and Isabela's issue will get resolved - possibly, not at all. But he has his chance, and I have another person capable of leading others. He might not be Ebareth, but Hawke will learn. And both Fenris and Bethany will be happy to have him around. Hopefully, happy enough to get off my back.
I can't fall asleep, in spite of this unexpected success. Watching as the skies begin shimmering and darkness slowly disperses, I hug my knees to chase away morning chill. I have grown somewhat accustomed to high temperatures on the desert, and morning temperature feels much colder in comparison than it is in reality.
The contours of mountains in the distance begin glowing as the sun rises. I shield my eyes, adjusting to brightness. Sand under my feet is still pleasantly cool, but I know that in two hours it will begin burning my bare feet. I disregard it though, waiting for Fenris to appear. And he does, looking pale after a sleepless night, with a couple of hastily scribbled pages for me to see.
I crumple the unwanted truths in front of me, before taking a cursory look at him and sending him to catch some sleep. Fenris sends me a halfhearted glare, clearly suggesting the same for me - but I am already lost in the words before me, and pretend not to see. He excuses himself gruffly.
Nervlis comes for me when it is time; I've barely realised hours that have passed. The reading, and then analysis of it had me completely engrossed. Still, one look at him and my muscles grow taut in unpleasant stiffness. But I am no coward to avoid facing reality. There are things that need to be done.
I nod in greeting, while he waits for me wordlessly to don my official, silver cloak. I do not have an uniform signifying my position, having avoided it for years with unrelenting stubbornness. Fiona and Tasha were at their wits end. Finally, fed up with the situation Ryanth had threatened me that if I did not take it easy on his wife, he would find ways to make my life unpleasant. I believed him and compromised.
The cloak was my concession. I still found excuses to avoid it as often as possible; but sometimes, it was necessary. Sometimes it was time to show off my authority. Like now.
I was supposed to look regal; but I am certain it made for a bizarre sight instead. Contrasts which fully expressed how I feel about my position. And yet, somehow, I think it is fitting. It fits me and what I represent - what we represent. It reaches to our slave origins while showing that we can rise above them. We are more than just former slaves; we have emancipated ourselves and fought back. We should take pride in ourselves.
And I am sure pride shows in my every step, even as my feet sting from the heated sand. I am still barefoot, looking a bit like a castaway in a sea of sand. But then, I also look like the leader, princess and Pride - I look like myself and that is the point. The ripped silk shirt and half rolled up trouser legs and the rich material bellowing at my back. The damn cloak is unwieldy and without wind to pick it up it drags on the ground; but it is also so light at the smallest movement of air it picks up and floats. Silver wings spread in flight are embroidered on it, and I remember that I am the one who cast chains off first. I am the one who allowed most of these people to fly.
The Wings were already gathered. Fenris have informed Nervlis yesterday, and the word was spread. They part before me, creating a clear path through a sea of bowed heads and bent in respect knees.
I had never wanted this. The soles of my feet are hurting from the scorched ground in reminder I so desperately need - I am only mortal. I am far from infallible. And the power I have over these people has to be used wisely.
I've long outgrown June's favourite. But now, I am afraid the shadow Quicksilver casts on my life will become a burden that will crush me.
But allowing my fear to rule over me was never part of who I am. If I am to go, I would rather go in full blazing glory of a fallen star, than
Riv, chained and unmoving, observes my arrival without blinking. I, on the other hand, am much more discomposed. It should not be this hard; not when I know for certain he is guilty. And I suppose what terrifies me is not decision I have come to accept. No; what I am disgusted with is the manner in which my judgement will be delivered.
And yet.
'We have gathered here to pass a judgement on one of our own.' I begin steadily, turning around to look at my Wings. With a motion I make them stand up, and they do in a synchronized rustle of their robes and clinks of armour. But then, again, a deafening silence falls. It is so quiet a faraway cry of a hunting bird can be clearly heard.
'Riv of the Rivain has been a spy for our enemies for many years.' I've read Fenris' reports along my journey. Of the little threads, seeds of doubt sown here and there which made him suspect our Trainer. Of the damning documents he has found, confirmations of the messages sent and received. Of the lesser agents Riv has introduced into the organisation while my eyes were looking suspiciously at Valeria, my own daughter. 'He is responsible for many of the tragedies which shook our organisation; of the most recent, he is the one who set up our companions and my dear friends, Ebareth and Esme.'
Fenris got full confession from Riv. I did not ask how he has managed it in the short time since I've given him a free hand. I did not need details; I've had enough nightmares of my own deeds without adding his to the count. I've never forgotten that Danarius has used him in similar manner before; and time did nothing to dull his skill. I doubt it was pleasant for him, recalling memories of his servitude. But he did what was necessary, and I was grateful that I did not have to do it myself.
A dark voice in my soul whispers that I was fully capable of doing it myself. I could have broken Riv with my own hands. It was for my convenience that I did not; my selfishness forced Fenris to relieve the nightmares of his life.
But I've come to terms with my selfishness. It is not, by far, my worst trait.
And so I silence distractions in my mind, and continue.
'There's only one way we, in Wings, repay for betrayal. And that is death. Death in suffering. Death in regret. For those who have betrayed us know that we will go after their treasures and close ones.' I take a deep breath, looking without flinching on the hundreds of people gathered around me, drinking my every word with rapt attention. They will repeat what they heard; they will deliver my message as they are sent to their assignments. I want the meaning to be clear. I want my warning to be heard. I want my threat to be feared. 'I want those who are considering betrayal, or those among us who already sold their souls to our enemies, to be afraid. To think twice whether the price is worth the temporary gain. Because even if they attempt to run, I will find them. I will find them and they will regret their decision. There's no forgiveness for traitors.'
Riv did not. He knew better than to try once Fenris came after him, dogging him until the man was out of breath and heaving. In his advanced age, he could not keep up with the still young and springy, lyrium laced elf. I know, had he had his hair they would have streaks of grey weaved in.
It is a small measure of comfort he keeps his head shaved. It lets me forget his years. Faced with his still very handsome face, I can focus on the important facts rather than feel like the sadistic executioner.
'Any last words?' I ask neutrally, looking at the man. I surprise myself, but there isn't even a flicker of fondness. Not even a hint of hesitation. I am ready to do what's necessary; regardless how heartless it would appear from outsiders viewpoint. All of our long history does not make me any more forgiving towards him. Riv has denied it with his actions; and he will face full consequences of it.
'And here I thought it was my line. Aren't you even the least curious?' His voice is abit haggard, and I am reminded that Fenris had forced out his full confession barely hours ago.
Still, Riv keeps his composure admirably, even if he cannot keep my gaze. I am not surprised, for I know what he sees in my eyes. His impending doom and my complete indifference towards his fate.
But his question does have merit, and I consider it for a moment, before asking:
'Who killed your predecessor in Qarinus?' Something flashes through his eyes, and he bursts out laughing. It is a touch on the hysterical side, but I wait through his outburst patiently.
'Oh Quicksilver. We have all underestimated you, didn't we? Even though I was right beside you, your pretty face and lack of care in the world deceived me; I forgot there's a keen mind hidden behind all of your detachment and aloofness.'
'There was no pirate raid in the first place.'
I nod neutrally, having already pieced the puzzle together. But it is nice to have a definite confirmation for my theory.
Without further ado, I cast my hand forward, and the silver string responds to my call, lying a fragile shape on the sound surrounding him. I have agonized for hours, how I am to solve the problem he constituted. In the end, I could only reach to my experiences; to the memory which long haunted my nightmares.
'Ignis.' My mouth whisper a worded command, and my mana tugs in response of glyph's activation.
Flames rise from the straight lines constituting the star within pentagram. Riv's face scrunches in pain, but for the moment he braves the initial pain silently. But his silence will not last long, I know. The heat will become unbearable and the burn will gnaw at his resolve, until he screams in pain.
I could have made it a swift execution. I could have made the flames burn in bright whiteness, consuming him in seconds; he would not have had time to utter a single sound. I did not need to burn him in the first place; I could have turned to Fenris or cut through his neck myself in one clean strike.
But that would defeat the point. And if my nightmares of Andraste's execution lasted for centuries, then I see no reason why this image would not remain with my Wings for the years to come. I want them to remember it, vividly.
First scream tears from Riv's throat, and I turn back to observe as the flames lick on his already drying skin. As the stench of burnt flesh reaches me, I let my mind wander, easily pushing away the unpleasant reality from my mind.
Fenris was very thorough in his investigation. Riv was Qunari agent long before he had come to Tevinter; before we even met. From my question, I have ascertained the few things Fenris did not know to ask about; but since the whole thing happened over two decades ago, I did not expect him to. It is disturbing that the Qunari managed to position one of their own so highly in hierarchy of Tevinter's coastal defence. I have no doubt that Riv had, throughout his years of service, promoted many of his fellow agents to influential positions. That's what I would have done in his position.
To my side, the man begins thrashing, pointlessly trying to escape the circle of flames. It is instinctive reaction on his part, as he strains against chains holding him in place. His screams become more soul-wrenching, and a couple of people turn their heads away. I have allowed Nervlis to discreetly dismiss those who are too soft-hearted to watch it unfold until the end. They do so now, with grateful bows escaping from the execution.
I observe their departure with a slight frown; and then shake my head slightly and tuning out the noise, return to my thoughts.
That the pirate raid which elevated Riv was staged, comes as no surprise. It was a very well-planned operation; and there are no real coincidences. More surprising for me was that he abandoned his post to chase after me - but the answer for that question was found for me by Fenris.
I snorted when I reached that part. The Qunari were really considering enlisting me at one point! My stunt when I saved Tessarian's son got their attention and they sent Riv along to test the waters, so to speak. Of course, soon he realized that Void would sooner become tangible than I would in any way assist Qun philosophy in taking over Thedas. Ever since, he has remained by my side, reporting on my activities and stirring up trouble.
It is only luck that after Archivist's death I became more conscious of the age of my companions. I have removed Riv from active duty; and thus, limited his access to information. He was unaware of my alter ego, Fea, and he remained in the dark as to the details of most of our operations. Even then, he caused a lot of damage. We did not restrict the information because of our lack of trust. On the contrary, he heard a lot of unofficial rumours and doubts, because he was so removed from the fray.
And, as a person responsible for training our agents, he sneaked in a lot of Ben'Hassrath into our lower ranks. Fenris did initial purge of the hostile element while he was in Minrathous, but I have no doubt the results of our misplaced confidence will hound us for years to come.
In hindsight, some of his behaviour was suspicious. His enthusiasm and stubborn attempts to get into my good graces, one way or another. The man wouldn't take no for an answer, and knowing male ego, I should have seen there was something wrong with it. No one feels like throwing themselves pointlessly against an immovable rock until they bleed; but Riv did. Then there was the fact that he carefully avoided expressing his opinions one way or another, regardless of the topic. It made him the neutral party who was often consulted for advice; a prime source of his information ever since he lost access to documents.
I have also never really checked out the story he has fed us in regards to his departure from Rivain and arrival in Tevinter. I simply assumed there was nothing to be found; and truthfully, back in the day, my awareness of the Qunari was marginal. Obviously, they were much more interested in me.
Riv's pained howling begins dying out and rasping as his lungs begin losing air. The skin on his body shrivels, parts of it starting to peel off, like disgusting worms set on fire. Some of the Wings in the back empty their stomachs, repulsed by the torture in front of them.
I fight off a wave of cough, and then nausea, as a gust of wind forces me to inhale smoke down my lungs. The odour of burning human is no easier to bear second time around; and I struggle to keep my nonchalant facade. At last Riv has lost his consciousness; there are no more screams to be heard. His breath rises heavily, choking on the fumes of his own body being slowly devoured by the flames.
I pour more mana into the glyph to speed up the process a bit. Fire grows stronger and brighter, fuelled by my magic, and soon the process is over.
Nervlis dismisses my Wings. I do not hear their departure, focused on removing all traces of the glyph from the air. I unhurriedly return to the fortress, where a small crowd has gathered near gates. Clearly they are waiting for me.
I knew Leliana would send someone to watch our gathering; but I truthfully did not expect anyone to confront me about it. Clearly, I've been wrong about that; I spy Ellana in the crowd, all puffed up in righteous anger. She does not hesitate stepping in front of the group, and seizing me up disdainfully.
'Is it true you've just burned somebody to death?' She looks nauseous at the very thought.
'Yes.' I do not skirt away from the truth.
'How could you?! I knew you were a heartless beast, but there should be a limit to your barbarism! Surely there was another method!' Ellana shakes her head in disbelief, all but shouting at me her virtuous nonsense.
A small smile plays on my lips, and I can't resist provoking her further.
'Believe me, that was actually kinder punishment than what I have initially had in mind.'
She looks at a loss of words for a moment, and I fight off a chuckle. It is all the more sweet I am not even lying - I had intended something much worse. It is only that we were surrounded by Inquisition forces that I did not follow through with demon summoning… And I am a bit miffed I was forced to account for their presence while making my decision.
'You rabid bitch!' Ellana snaps out of her stupefaction, and snarls angrily. 'Sylaise help me understand how anyone would entrust their fate to your hands! You are completely insane, you know that?'
I am smiling more and more widely throughout her outburst, quite entertained, but Nervlis at my back shuffles with clear annoyance.
'Inquisitor, you would do well to leave alone matters beyond your understanding.' He growls in subtle warning, and I reach blindly to squeeze his hand in reassurance. Creators would sooner torn this world asunder before I let Dalish child affect me in any way.
'I can't believe you are defending her! The man was your comrade!' Ellana turns her claws on Nervlis. I suddenly stop feeling amused, and take a step in her direction with a dangerous flash in my eyes.
'Shut up and leave my people alone, or I will make you regret it.' I feel a flash of satisfaction, seeing her backing away from me and owering a bit. We might be unwilling allies throughout this debacle, but I'd be damned before letting her walk over one of my own.
'Now, now, ladies, there's no need to go that far.' Varrick laughs uneasily, trying to diffuse tension between us. Clearly he saw that Ellana was pushing it dangerously close to things I wouldn't let go - wise dwarf.
'Once again we find ourselves in complete accord, Master Tethras.' My wolf strides into the open space, chiding me for my behaviour with slightly narrowed eyes.
I suddenly lose my brazen confidence, as the light steps of my beloved bring him closer to us. I square my shoulders in false bravado, daring him to judge me - for I know that Fen will disapprove my actions. It is a gut-wrenching certainty, but I won't apologise for who I am.
But he completely dismisses the topic, as if it was of no concern to him. I am stumped by his easy avoidance, and wonder whether he cannot bring himself to fully face what I've become… Whether he would like to pretend I remain as I used to be, noble and naive and kind. It is uncomfortable thought, especially since I remember that was what attracted him to Ellana.
'Let's not make a habit of such displays. It is a terrible thing for unity and morale, wouldn't you agree?'
Ellana turns away with embarrassed flush, muttering unintelligible agreement under her nose. He turns to me with raised eyebrow, clearly expecting deference. But I challenge him to order me around; especially since I do not feel like I've done anything warranting Inquisitor's interference. How I deal with my people is none of her business.
'Pride.' Fen sighs in clear exasperation.
'Get off my back, Fen. She started it.'
'Then be the bigger person and forgive her.' My wolf snorts with impatience. 'You are far too sophisticated to involve yourself in such pointless debacles.'
'I simply refuse to be cowed by stupid child who doesn't know any better. And really, she is your problem, not mine. You deal with her.'
Nervlis looks at me curiously, as I turn around and return to my quarters. Clearly he is not the only one, for there's suddenly a lot of people gathered in my office, all with a question in their eyes. I pretend not to see, hoping they would get the hint and walk away… But no such luck.
Valeria clears her throat, and asks,
'So, mamae. Who is the man?'
I run a hand over my face, suddenly inexplicably tired. I absolutely hate explaining myself before others; and really, it is none of their business.
But I know them well; and they would not take kindly to being brushed off. Neither would it end at that; Valeria and Bethany would just continue pestering me for hours until I gave up. And Arissar with Fenris would just start digging for information - which is even worse.
So I face their expectant stares, and own up the truth.
'The better half of my soul.'
