A/N: Thank you, lil kyuubi, for your review! Please enjoy!
Cherished Trinket
After a day of hunting rabbits, tracking down the rumored herd of halla, and exploring the ruins of Tarasuvun, the travelers returned to their campsite, refreshed and dreading their return to polite society. Resigned to beginning their return journey early the following morning, Inara tucked herself into her bedroll, watching her companions in the firelight as they slipped off to sleep. Dorian's handsome brow twitched at some unpleasantness; the corners of Leliana's lips crept upward fondly; and the Inquisitor finally drifted off in her own turn.
Inara left Tarasuvun to its own devices this night, not wanting to risk tainting her perspective of the village after the joy of the dance. Instead, she decided to practice the latest skill Feynriel had taught her. She first investigated Dorian's dreams, deliberately remaining an unseen observer. When his boring meeting was invaded by several guards attempting to arrest the man for treason, however, she stepped away.
Leliana's dreams were far less stressful. The bard stood in a sprawling campsite, chatting with a dark-haired woman Inara recognized as the Warden from Cullen's vision of the Circle Tower. The Hero of Ferelden grandly presented a pair of delicate blue satin shoes to Leliana, who exclaimed, "Oh, how dear of you!" Inara scoffed to herself, glad that bribery had not been required when befriending her companions. They had based their opinions on her words and actions alone, building their trust upon their mutual goals and disagreements. Not petty trinkets.
Satisfied that she was able to go unseen by these two, Suledin decided to test herself against a bond that had already broken her concentration once before. Thankfully, Cullen was not dreaming of the Circle Tower, nor Kirkwall blood mages, nor Fade rifts. Rather, he walked through an endless, lush field that overlooked a growing settlement – his settlement.
Retired and lyrium-addled Templars were working together to raise a home for themselves to grow old with dignity and care, all thanks to Commander Rutherford. The warrior's adopted Mabari bounded up beside him with a cheerful bark. Cullen let out a hearty laugh and scratched the hound behind the ears before beginning his descent down the hill to survey his work.
Inara could feel a surge of pride over how far her friend had come over the years – so much more confident in himself, at least outwardly. She knew her old fondness for the man meant greater risk of being seen, but she managed to keep the cloak of the Fade tightly concealing her presence. Cullen was neither a mage nor a Dreamer. There was no way he would remember her last visit – the confessions, both spoken and left unsaid, the way his hand had lingered on her cheek, and his declaration that he would take up the sword again.
The woman prayed he did not remember. If his new life was anything like this, she couldn't rob him of it. Even if a renewed campaign in her name was for the sake of the cause alone, she would still feel guilty. In her affection, she hoped he would find himself a strong woman who deserved his generosity, his gentleness, his courage, and his chivalry. It was the most she could hope for. More than she could hope for herself.
So many of her loyal companions had moved on with their lives – Josie running the family business, Varric a viscount, Cassandra the Divine of the Chantry, Vivienne the Grand Enchanter, Blackwall with the Wardens, and Sera…being Sera. They all deserved it. And what did she get? Impossible choices, a lost arm, and a lover who had abandoned her on a suicide mission to become the world's next greatest villain…while taking her arm.
While her skills in the Fade were increasing, it was not particularly encouraging to know that she hadn't seen him in weeks, maybe months now – the real Solas, at least. At the beginning, she had sensed his presence watching over her nearly every night, just out of reach; but it seemed a lifetime ago. Was he deliberately avoiding her, after so long of teasingly waiting in the corner of her eye? Now that she could finally appreciate his fascination with this place?
Scowling at the downward direction of her previously lighthearted thoughts, Inara waved away the dream and suddenly felt the need to wake up. Something was watching her. The sound of leathery wings rustled in her ear.
Inara sharply sat up, shivering as her bedroll cover dropped away to allow the night air against her skin. There was no one to be seen but Dorian and Leliana, who were both still sound asleep, but she knew better. Pulling on her cloak, the elf hovered over the fire for a moment to warm her chilled hand, despite the heat given off by the unseen hot spring. The bare hint of light on the horizon indicated twilight – too early to be awake, yet here she was.
Gently retrieving her two-bladed dagger, the Inquisitor's footsteps were silenced by the mossy carpet while she left the camp behind, tracking invisible prey. She swung the weapon belt unceremoniously around her waist as she went. After several minutes of passing through the crumbling remnants of the town, her curiosity was sated. Standing by a small fire, hands held out to catch the heat while her scant clothing defied any acknowledgment of the frigid air above the valley, was Morrigan.
The witch smirked at her guest's lack of surprise. It had only been a matter of time before this mage decided to drop by.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?" the elf yawned, adjusting the cloak over her amputated limb as she joined her former advisor.
Morrigan's eyes sparkled darkly in the firelight as she regarded the other woman. Whatever she saw, she failed to share her insight, instead skipping any pleasantries:
"There is a new hero on the horizon. A warrior…reaching for greatness yet beyond him. He is but at the beginning of his journey, but I foresee that he may achieve said renown sooner rather than later." She paused, cocking her head. "You may find an ally in him, but do not trust this soldier, for he may yet become the thing he hates. I have yet to see him commit to a cause."
"While living in a land ruled by power-hungry mages, why should I be concerned over one budding warrior?" the elf scoffed tiredly, not caring if she offended her company. So, it seemed Morrigan had met this man. She didn't comment on it, however. "It's not as if my luck could get much worse."
"The Magisterium was not always led by mages alone. They seek a champion, and I believe the Qunari conflict is about to provide."
"The slaves have a champion; the Solasans have a champion; Kirkwall had a Champion. 'Tis only fair," the rogue teased. "And you warn me of this…why?"
"I think you will find out why in the coming months."
Inara growled at the witch's riddles.
"Is this why you came all this way, to tease me of what I will learn anyway, regardless of your helpful nature?"
"No." Morrigan looked back at the fire, staring blankly at the flames. "Word of your escapades since the Inquisition's end has traveled the world. It is a poorly kept secret that you still intend to save the Dread Wolf from himself. Though your position with your allies has not weakened, their perspective of you may change, and your influence may diminish. Their cooperation in preparing for a world without the Veil is becoming driven more by the end goal than the Inquisitor who brought it to their attention."
"I see nothing wrong with that. You said yourself, new heroes are on the horizon. If my time in the sunlight is coming to an end, I will welcome it gladly." Inara groaned and closed her eyes under the mage's piercing gaze. "We all knew what would happen when I disbanded the Inquisition. I tire of clawing for remnants of a power I no longer desire in the name of the greater good. I tire of calling him my enemy by day, only to spend my nights seeking his embrace. It feels dishonest."
"Never a trait you wore well," Morrigan chuckled. "While I have always admired your determination, I fear he may be lost"
"Lost, but not gone," she whispered. "I know him."
"It has been perhaps a year since he took your arm, and three years since he took Mythal's power as his own." Inara's eyes flickered in alarm at that. "You've seen but glances of what he has become. You know only what he chose to show you."
"Your mother evidently thinks otherwise," Inara tried to pin down the slippery witch, "or she would not have sent you with a message you seem reluctant to share."
The human paused, surprised at the Herald's guess. She didn't reveal right away whether Inara was correct in her assumption. Of course Mythal would send her as a messenger just as she began to embrace her Dreaming. After the Well of Sorrows, Morrigan was bound to obey the immortal Evanuris, so she considered it a fair prediction. From her experience, the mage was not keen on social calls.
"Then let us be glad I am not my mother," Morrigan sighed, raising her head with renewed interest in her companion. "You impress me, Inquisitor, a feat not achieved by many. Though I may disagree with you and my mother on the wisdom of your personal allegiances, you both have my respect. I have seen such loyalty in the past, and it rarely ends happily."
Inara smiled at the compliment, but it lost its fervor at the woman's last statement. She was not awake enough for these games. Her next words projected a hardness she did not quite intend.
"I am aware of my path. Please state your true purpose."
Humming with displeasure, Morrigan folded her arms.
"My purpose here is twofold: First, a warning. Though the Fade may welcome you with open arms, tread carefully. Spirits will be drawn to you, and not all have good intentions. As you continue to develop your skill, learn to distinguish the beings that dwell beyond. It may save both your life and your dignity."
"I'm sure that is something Asha'bellanar could have easily slipped into a note and attached to a raven," Inara quipped, her lips thinning as she remembered dancing with the Spirit of Innocence. Still, she would pester Feynriel more on the topic. "And the second?"
Morrigan responded by opening a leather pouch at her waist and slipping two fingers reluctantly to retrieve the object within. A trail of a leather cord was slowly drawn into the rosy glow of the fire. At the end of the twine, the blackened jawbone of a wolf was finally unveiled.
Inara stared wordlessly, transfixed by every familiar curve of the pendant as it gently swung from the witch's skeptical grasp. Warmth bloomed in her chest at the memories it inspired – the stories shared outside the cabin in Haven; slipping in the snow on the journey to Skyhold and watching the accessory sway overhead as he caught her hand; glimpsing the trinket through fingers that hovered over her face to remove the vallaslin, his hands glimmering with a pure blueish light.
"Ar lasa mala revas. You are free."
"Are you going to take it, or simply gawk at the thing?" Morrigan's mocking tone broke the spell. "I care little for it."
Blushing, Inara swiped the pendant away from the witch for fear of it being withdrawn. As she held it tightly to her chest, clinging to it painfully, she took a moment to compose herself before daring to look at the other woman again. Her friend was watching with the indecipherable interest of a spider on its web.
"I… Thank you, Morrigan," the rogue stuttered, scolding herself for the break in composure. Morrigan may have been a friend, but she also had her own secret agendas. "But I'm sure Mythal would not encourage such a delivery out of the goodness of her heart. And dare I ask how you acquired it?"
"I did not dare ask how she managed to gain such an antique," the mage laughed before her attitude sobered. "Mythal's message is this: You are neither victim, nor prey. One of the reasons you drew the Wolf was because he saw in you a fellow predator, an equal. A wolf can chase a wolf, but first it needs a scent to follow. Do not disappoint, Suledin."
Her mission complete, she turned away from the fire and nearly managed to disappear into the night before Inara called out,
"You're leaving?"
With feigned reluctance, Morrigan returned to the fire, letting out a dramatic sigh.
"The young warrior I mentioned? Unfortunately, Mother thinks I need ally myself with him, claiming my brushes with Fate are not yet at an end. I suppose I will be swooping down to pluck the boy from the wreckage to rescue his sorry hide from battle." At her dark smirk, Inara remembered that the witch could now transform into a dragon. "More likely, I'll scorch an entire Qunari detachment and decapitate their leader. T'would make for a grand entrance, don't you think?"
It was the Inquisitor's turn at mischief.
"While my relationship with the King of Ferelden may be strained, I hear swooping is bad."
"Indeed."
The ladies finally shared a mutually genuine smile, silently wishing each other luck in the coming days. The Inquisitor allowed Morrigan to depart without further ado, stamping out the last coals and returning to her own camp to the sound of a massive winged creature taking flight.
Dawn was breaking while Suledin waited for her companions to awaken. Returning to sleep was unthinkable. She succumbed to the hypnotic campfire, allowing her fingers to shamelessly roam the jawbone's smooth, worn curves. Perhaps she would soon see more than mere shades of the Dread Wolf. Perhaps now she could catch his scent, regardless of Feynriel's unwillingness to divulge what he knew. The jawbone felt like a lifeline against her increasing failures in the real world; at last, something tangible to show for her work in the Fade.
Leliana woke first, going straight for the coffee Inara had set to brew. Dorian sat up reluctantly but a moment later, accepting a piping hot tin as he attempted to tame a few unruly locks of his otherwise impossibly perfect hair. Inara remained silent and unmoving until the Spymaster offered a cup and noticed her hand already occupied.
The elf continued to caress the jawbone while her friends stared suspiciously at her new trophy. She smiled softly, unable to quell the jittery thrill at having even this miniscule link to Solas.
"I suppose you have questions."
Hope you enjoyed the jab at Origins' 'gift' system. Haha. Thank you for reading, and don't forget to follow and review!