Chapter 4: In which many people worry about many things
..."What are we going to do if Herald doesn't recover?"
This was the second war meeting of the week, and the first where they met to discuss strategy. The first meeting after the team returned from Hinterlands with gravely wounded and still unconscious Herald was spent coming up with measures to stop the rumors of the Herald's demise.
Only the select few in Haven and a handful of soldiers from Hinterlands camp knew of the Herald condition. Half of those soldiers accompanied the Herald's group back to Haven. They were sworn to secrecy on the matter and tasked with security of the healer quarters where Herald recovered.
The other half rode out of the Hinterlands camp early in the morning on the supposedly scouting mission. Official records stated that Herald rode with them.
Despite those ruses, the rumors were still whispered around the soldier and common folk campfires, fueled by Herald's continued absence and at the same time the presence in Haven of all of the Herald's close circle.
It has been five weeks since Herald departed on the Hinterland expedition and two weeks past the time that she was due back.
"We can cut off her hand and see if it still works..." Three sets of horrified eyes stared at Leliana; seemingly undisturbed the Spymaster continued, "Solas doesn't think it would... but he also doesn't know what else can be done to preserve the ability..."
"You've discussed this with Solas?"
"Only theoretically of course, in passing."
"This is horrible beyond imagination. Surely we are not yet at the stage to contemplate such actions…" Josephine grew to like their unassuming leader and the thought of treating her as a sum of useful body parts was nauseating.
"We are not, Josie," The Spymaster gaze softened a bit looking at her old friend, "But we must discuss all options."
"The wound was grave and the effort to seal the rift took the remaining energy out of Herald." The battle-hardened Seeker was somewhat sick at the thought just as Josephine was. "I believe we ought to give her some extra time to recover... and to keep away from such considerations… at least for now."
"Very well." Leliana was happy to drop the subject. Some things had to be mentioned but they didn't need to necessarily be pursued further right away.
A soft cough broke the tense silence in the room.
"On a brighter note, the troops solidified our hold on Hinterlands. The only areas out of our complete control are Redcliffe with it's Tevinter presence and the wildlands near bandit tower where the two rifts are still open." Commander reached out over the war table to point at the discussed areas. "We are buffing up our presence on the Coast and at the Southern Ferelden"
Leliana looked pensively at the map.
"Something is going on in those places, Commander." She pointed at the jagged line of the Waking Sea coast, trailed the gloved finger lower to the village of Crestwood, and tapped lightly on the marker; and then definitively placed a new marker at the Fallow Mire area at South Ferelden."I have experienced the delay in communications from those areas."
The light-haired man nodded, and puffed out a frustrated breath.
"The active rifts and accompanying mayhem make it hard to keep the order in those areas. The locals, and even some of our soldiers, went missing in all of those locales. If the Herald..." He ran his free hand through his short hair, a gesture of comfort, and with a slight shake of his head, corrected himself. "When the Herald heals, I advise to visit those places as soon as possible."
"She will get better, she has to," Seeker voiced what all others were thinking "If she doesn't we are all doomed."
The silence fell over the room.
...Josephine looked at the woman lying motionless on the bed.
The greenish paleness soaking her features and the visible patches of skin on her arms and torso subsided over the fortnight she was in Haven. The heavy bandage over her midsection was gone several days ago, replaced by the thin patch of fabric soaked in elfroot oil.
Over the last few days some normal color started to slowly return to the woman's cheeks; and if Josephine hadn't known that the Herald was unconscious since her arrival, hadn't seen the sickly shade of her skin for days, she would have thought the young woman was simply sleeping.
Young woman. Josephine remembered her surprise when she found out that the Herald was only a couple years younger than her. The woman appeared so much younger, with her lack of court polish, with her softness and flowing hair and similarly flowing outfits. Even the Herald's world view, despite the tragedy that destroyed her family, was mostly straight-forward and unwary of world's duplicity.
Until that fateful Conclave, Herald's life was purposefully set far from conflict, danger and intrigue. Josephine had a hard time deciding whether to feel envious of the Herald's uneventful past decade, or to feel sorry for her terribly eventful present.
So unlike her own. As a teen, Josephine enjoyed learning the intricacies of the Game, figuring out what made people tick, what made them submit to her wishes. She was very good at the Game, and she loved it, she'd just discovered that she didn't love the killing that the Game demanded at times.
"All that effort we'd made, Your Grace, in our own ways, and still, both of us landed right in the middle of the Biggest Game of all… at the reins of the Inquisition..." The Ambassador murmured softly. "Maker has a very strange sense of humor, doesn't he?"
She recounted the details of her daily correspondence and meetings with nobility, as she did every day since the healers allowed visits to the injured Herald.
"Your efforts in Hinterlands were noticed, Your Grace, and now more nobility is paying attention to us. Just today I've received six letters asking for information about you and the Inquisition."
She carefully touched the still hand.
"This may not seem like much, but before we were getting just a handful of letters every week, and now we have as much coming in a day!"
She carefully squeezed the hand and let go.
"I will not bore you further, Your Grace. I believe I hear Varric's voice; he must be coming with a new set of unbelievable tales to amuse you with." Josephine gently touched the still hand in parting. "I'll be back tomorrow with an update on diplomatic developments."
Josephine was at the door when it opened. Sure enough, Varric was there with his dinner, as was his custom over the last week. He would show up with a full plate and spend the meal with Herald, telling her outrageous jokes and tales, some of which featured the Herald herself.
"Ambassador"
"Varric"
"May I tempt you to keep us company by a dinner and a tale of some grand adventure, Lady Montilyet?"
"Ah, this smells divine, Varric! I wish I could stay and enjoy the dinner and the tale. Alas, either the Herald's efforts belatedly brought an unusual volume of visits and requests, or nobles are suspecting something is amiss within the Inquisition." The rare furrow marred the otherwise clear beautiful face. "I must attend to potential rumors and prevent suspicions as much as I possibly can."
"Some other time then. Good luck, Ambassador, I'm most sincere when I say, that I admire your efforts and am so glad my place is far removed from politics." He grinned at her, and added. "Be sure to grab dinner though, the hunters returned with a nice catch of hare, it is divine after all the dried stuff we've been eating!"
The noise from the bed startled both.
"Jos..phin.."
Herald was finally awake. Bright green eyes stared at them with some confusion. Both stared back at the wounded woman with some apprehension. Varric regained his bearings first. He carefully set his plate at the nearby chair, and slightly touched Josephine's arm to get her attention; his eyes however never left the Herald's novelly colored gaze as he moved.
"I'll fetch the Seeker... and Spymaster… and maybe Solas…"and with that Varric was gone.
Herald stared at the back of the quickly departing dwarf. Frowning she turned the questioning gaze back to Josephine, and Antivian smiled softly back, skillfully covering her discomfort as a true master of the Game.
The eerie green eyes were, in common talk, outright spooky. Herald's usual hazel was familiar, calm and welcoming. These new eyes, they were unnerving, bottomless, like staring into the rift and seeing the actual glimpses of Fade.
"W..ats wrong.. Josfne?" Herald's body shifted, and hands weakly grabbed at bedding, in the futile attempt to get into the sitting position. Soon after, her face contorted in pain and she fell back listlessly giving up the effort.
Josephine felt sorry for the woman, but still fearful and in turn ashamed of her apprehension. The prone form with tightly scrunched in pain eyes drawing ragged breaths was hardly a cause for fear. She slowly stepped closer.
"Your eyes, Your Grace. They are different.." Josephine trailed off, not sure what she could and couldn't say to the just awakened Herald.
After several calming breaths, Klara opened her eyes again and looked at the Ambassador.
"Maker!" The word slipped the Seeker's lips.
Klara looked up at the exclamation. Both of the former Hands of the Divine were at the door, along with Solas. She was confused. Her memories were a blur; she felt very weak and mighty nauseous; the sharp pain still throbbing at her side from the earlier attempt to get up hinted at the recent wound.
"Maker!" Leiliana took a step back when the green gaze settled on her.
And now all of her currently present advisors acted weird as well.
"Lei..na" there was something in the raspy unused voice that made the redhead stop and look beyond the eyes. The Herald was becoming scared.
"I'm sorry, Your Grace." Spymaster stepped closer, and pulled a tiny mirror from one of the many pockets of her outfit. "You surprised us that is all. Perhaps seeing what we see would explain better." With that she stuck a mirror in front of Klara's face.
With alarm Klara realized that she stared at the twin pools of green instead of her own hazel. The color resembled equally her anchor mark and the huge rift in the sky.
She almost knocked herself out in her haste to cover her eyes with her hands. Next moment, she moved the left hand to the bed, and almost immediately changed her mind. The right unmarked hand was pulled as far away from the green energies, and instead her unnatural green eyes were covered by the arm with the outworldly green energy mark on it.
"W..t that?!" a barely audible rasp.
Long silence filled the room. Herald didn't move, didn't say anything else. Even her breathing became barely perceptive. Eventually all eyes in the room, except those that were in question, settled on Solas.
He cleared his throat and tentatively offered: "It appears the anchor energy mixed with the energy of the rift you closed after you were wounded. It filled in where your energy was failing." Solas' statement sounded far-fetched but nobody had a better explanation. "It might fade over time…" His voice trailed off into more of a question than a statement.
"It might, really?" Klara spat a hysterical laugh and immediately moaned in pain.
She slowly removed her arm from her face, and leveled her strange ghostly gaze on the group.
"Please, leave."
"Your Grace, I need to check…" Solas words cut short by the quiet murmur near his ear.
"Not now," Spymaster was heading out, steering the group out along with her.
The door closed with a slight creak and Klara let out a soft sigh of relief. When Leliana thrust the mirror in her face she expected a scar, perhaps even a horrible ugly scar. The twin tiny rifts in place of her irises that she didn't expect at all.
"I just need to avoid mirrors," Klara whispered tiredly. "If I don't see it, maybe I'd just forget about it…"
Her lids felt heavy and soon she was falling into deep sleep.
...Everyone walked in silence until finally the heavy doors of the war room separated the group from the curious ears.
Varric and Solas looked around the room with fascination, lingering at the pieces on the war table. The room wasn't the place either of them was privy to.
"I should have examined her!" Solas pointedly looked at the redheaded woman.
"Yes, but she is clearly better, Solas," Spymaster's tone was even. "She deserves the privacy she asked for" at that, the woman's voice flavored by a pointy inflection as well.
Solas prepared to debate the point when the heavily accented voice cut through.
"Is she possessed?!" The Seeker was running one hand through her hair nervously while the other hand clenched the hilt of her sword. "Is our Herald possessed?!"
Solas' thought back to his senses in the Herald's room; his gaze going introspective for several moments.
"I didn't feel anything, Seeker." The mage looked sharply at the troubled woman "No, I definitely didn't feel anything unusual. Did you?"
"No, but the eyes…"
The mage nodded.
"It is the most strange. They might go back to normal as she gains more of her own strength back… I will stop by the healer's hut tomorrow to examine the Herald but I don't anticipate discovering anything unfortunate."
Leliana headed to the door.
"I am sending the word to the soldiers accompanying the 'Herald' to head back to Haven."
Cassandra nodded in agreement.
"By the time they get here, Herald should be looking healthy enough to appear to people."
Klara opened her eyes at the soft touch of the damp cloth on her forehead. Her gaze ran straight into the warm brown of the Inquisition's Ambassador.
"Lady Montilyet…"
"Your Grace! You are awake!"
"Did something happen? Why am I… oh.. Oh the demon… fire demon if I remember correctly" She saw something was not right from Josephine expression.
"There was a demon. Yes. But..Ah.. Maybe one of your troops can explain better…" the Ambassador gracefully rose to leave.
"Please wait. I don't need the details just now. Don't go." Herald's hand caught the delicate hand. Soft and graceful. Klara was always comfortable in the Ambassador's presence. She never treated her as anything but the Herald and yet she was one of the few people Klara didn't feel the need to put a mask on and pretend to be more than or different than she was.
The Ambassador settled back in the chair at the head of Klara's bed.
Klara's thumb ran softly over the caught hand.
"If it is not too much of an imposition, I'd rather spend some more time talking with you than getting back to the present of hurts, defeats and injuries." She frowned.
Brown eyes softened with pleasure at her words, and once again Klara thought that Lady Montilyet was the most stunning woman she had ever seen.
"It will be my honor, your Grace" The woman carefully moved closer, the soft eyes were now mere inches from Klara's own. Nervous, she glanced down and promptly blushed, her prone position gave her quite a new perspective of the Ambassador dress' neckline.
Soft lips covered her own.
...Eerie green eyes flew open. Klara bolted up in bed wildly looking around, and doubled over in pain from her midsection. Tears of pain clouded her eyes immediately. After getting her breathing under control, she noted the darkness of the room. The dawn had not come yet. The world outside the window was pitch black and still.
The low whines and whispers of wind passing through the tiny cracks in the roof were the only sounds in the otherwise silent room.
The room she was in was not her own. The healer quarters, her mind supplied helpfully. She was very clearly alone, the remnants of the candle were dying in the clay dish, the glow so tiny she was barely able to see her own hand in front of her face.
"What in the Andraste's name had just happened?"
..."Your Grace, did you give further thought to the faction we will seek help from to close the rift over the temple?"
Klara looked up from her prone position at the sitting Ambassador and blushed.
Josephine stopped by every afternoon since Klara regained consciousness to catch her up on the happenings around the village and developments with the nobles. Klara was grateful for the pleasant company and for the distraction from her troubled thoughts.
Of course, the vision she had overnight brought a completely new set of thoughts; thoughts about the satin dresses; thoughts about the expressive lips touching her own. The lips that at the moment stopped moving and formed a pensive line.
The room went quiet and she realized that the woman was waiting for her reply. She sighed and pushed inappropriate thoughts away.
"What would you do, Lady Montilyet?" Herald asked quietly, and leveled her still oddly colored eyes at the Ambassador.
"About the factions?"
"Yes."
"Ah I don't think it is my place, Your Grace," she rubbed the soft cloth of her skirts between her fingers. "The mark on your hand is clearly magical, same as the tear in the sky…" abruptly the Ambassador stopped, and looked sheepishly at Herald. "Ah, look at me speculating on things I know little about. I apologize."
" Lady Montilyet, there is no need for apologies. It was I, who put you on the spot." Herald was amused.
"That is true. If it pleases you, Your Grace, I'll speak from the point of diplomacy. Templars are the safer choice. Their current conduct aside, they are viewed as the guardians by both the regular people and the nobles of Thedas. Most in Thedas had the run in with either stray magic or malicious magic, or both; so along with the sympathy toward mages' isolation inside the circles most people must feel some apprehension toward and even fear of the mages."
Klara's gaze didn't shift and Josephine felt a little self-conscious under the scrutiny of the eerie eyes; so much so the experienced diplomat took a second to collect her thoughts.
"Yes well.. hm... another point to consider is that of the loyalty from your faction of choice. It is possible you may need to rely on the group after the breach is closed. The oppressed faction may very well have more reason to stay loyal to you personally."
Herald had a pensive look over her features, and Josephine rose to say her goodbyes. The movement snapped the Herald from whatever thought she was lost in.
"Thank you, Lady Montilyet," Klara smiled slightly. "I apologize for being such a poor company today."
"That is quite alright, Your Grace, I know you have much on your mind." Ambassador paused debating whether her next words would overstep established boundaries but forged ahead. Some things had to be said aloud. "Please know, it is my utmost confidence that no matter the decision you make, all of us, the advisors, the battle companions, the people and soldiers of the Inquisition, all would stand by your decision, Your Grace"
This time, meeting the Ambassador's surprisingly open gaze, Klara blushed for a completely separate reason. She rubbed at her face attempting to hide the sudden tears the honest words brought.
"Thank you, Lady… Josephine… thank you," she whispered, and then gave the Ambassador a watery grin. "I did notice you left the nobles out of your words."
That made the Antivian laugh, warm eyes twinkling prettily with genuine amusement; and Klara felt her cheeks warm up once again as quite unhelpfully her mind supplied a vision of those same eyes mere inches from her own.
"Ah, they will come around, of course. That is why you have me after all, Your Grace." The Ambassador flashed a confident smile, and Klara's heart skipped a beat. "I'm going to bid you a good evening, Your Grace. Do you need anything before I leave?"
Klara's eyes widened in apprehension and anticipation, her mind supplying visions of how the next moments would unfold.
"Your Grace?" the questioning tone brought Klara back to the present.
The ever present blush burned even stronger.
"Would you please ask the Seeker to stop by... uhm... if she is free?"
"Of course, Your Grace. Have a good night" with that the Antivian left, and Klara closed her eyes, praying to the Maker that the beautiful Antivian hadn't noticed her strange behavior.
...Klara was ripped from her late afternoon slumber when Seeker stomped into her room; each step of the heavily armored figure accompanied by the creaky groans from the wooden floor, each movement followed by the faint clunk of the metal parts.
Startled sleepy eyes blinked at the tall warrior.
"Lady Montilyet said you wanted to see me, Your Grace." clear clipped accented words brought the last events to the front of Heralds muddled mind. "I see you are resting, I am sorry I…"
"No no no" Klara made to rise from her prone position quickly and hissed in pain, " Please stay, Seeker!"
Cassandra stopped her movement to leave the room and instead stepped fully in and closed the door. It was clear she came straight from the training grounds; the heavy armor was mudded, the sweat shone over her face.
"I am sorry this interrupted your activities, I should have told the Ambassador that my request was not urgent." Klara carefully moved herself into a sitting position on the bed.
"That is no bother, Your Grace." Cassandra moved closer to the bed, her tall form made bigger by the massive armor and boots. She towered imposingly over the sitting Herald. "Did you want to discuss something?"
The Herald looked up at her contemplatively almost sadly with her ghostly eyes. Then the head bent and the connection broke.
"Am I possessed, Cassandra? Would you know if I was possessed?" The words tumbled fast and desperate from under the curtain of dark hair hiding most of the Herald's face. "I've been thinking, and the anchor... I get... somewhat... but the eyes…" her voice finally trailed off and the eyes in question rose to stare into the Seeker's.
Oh, that… The Seeker carefully lowered her armored form to sit at the side of the Herald's bed, gingerly letting her armored weight fully rest on the wooden structure when it appeared to be sturdy enough. After a couple of tries she removed her right gauntlet slippery with dirt and snot and some other substances, and set it on the floor.
Tanned hand rough from decades of the weapon handlings covered Herald's hands clenched together, and then gently took hold of the left hand, the one that was marred by the anchor. Herald's face hid once again behind the curtain of the long dark hair; the hand inside the Seeker's palm clenched into fist as if trying to hide the otherworldly mark.
When nothing happened and nothing was said, and her hand started to ache from being clenched too tight for too long the Herald looked up, and only then the Seeker spoke.
"I didn't want to talk to your hair, Your Grace," a gentle grin briefly graced the handsome face.
"I'm sorry I…" Klara trailed off, she didn't have an explanation, and judging by the understanding in the Seeker's eyes, the warrior didn't expect any.
"I don't believe you are possessed, Your Grace." the calloused thumb rubbed over her shining palm; the accented voice was calm and confident "When I extend my senses, your reflection within them is no different from the one I had before your injury. Even when I touch you to get a stronger impression that image doesn't change."
"What do I look like in your senses, Seeker?"
"Uhm... it is hard to explain… a mix of image and feeling of a person. Almost like a shade. Mages have the veins of light bright blue running within the neutral tint of their shades. Those that partook in blood magic recently have a sickly purple to their shade, and those that practiced it for a while have their whole shade colored like a large misshapen purple and green bruise with veins of dark blue and red threading through it."
Klara stared at the finger running over her shining palm. Surely, the Seeker would not be so nonchalant about the mark if she suspected malice from it.
"And the possessed?"
"The possessed…" Cassandra sighed, "the possessed have only bits of their original shade left. The images and the specific feelings of them depend on the demon; but the shade is always twisted and colored wrong. Always."
"And what do you see is left of me?" a soft whisper brought the original sentiment back.
"Your Grace, I see all of you, as before." The strong hand squeezed Herald's firmly. "All of you."
Unexpectedly Klara's stomach flipped, and she fearfully she pulled her hand from the Seeker's.
"But I am not as I was, Seeker!" The angry whisper and Herald stared once again at her lap avoiding Cassandra's eyes.
"Your Grace… Klara…" Eventually the green eyes rose up. "You are. The anchor, it pulses as it always had on top of your reflection, and its golden-green energies wrap over your shade as they did before, maybe they just shine a bit brighter. But no different than before." Seeker's voice was firm, insistent.
"Would you smite me, Seeker, if you felt the possession?"
"I'd have no choice, Your Grace."
Dark head nodded; sad green eyes were serious.
"I trust you to do as you say, Seeker."
End of Chapter 4