A Void In All Things
"Where else would I be, Vivienne?" Lani dissembles, feigning ignorance. Dorian's breath seizes, as he glances between the two women. The hot, prickling caress of Lani's magic - so familiar to him from countless battles fought side-by-side - had begun to abate. There had been a clear easing in the air around them, Varric's words seeming to reach the Inquisitor. With Vivienne's arrival however, it returns - an aggravated spark, just waiting to be fanned into a flame.
"There have been some alarming murmurs in the corridors lately," Vivienne asserts. Dorian scoffs quietly, it must be a torment for the Imperial Enchanter; to sense a moment of import and not be in control of it.
He recalls that Vivienne eagerly jumped at the chance to aid the Inquisition. Giving up her post at Court on the assumption it would be a fast track to even greater power and influence. It is perhaps the only miscalculation Dorian has ever seen her make. For all her political savvy, the Enchanter never predicted that she would be completely frozen out by an uncultured Dalish elf.
"Perhaps you have been so long at Court, you can no longer discern fact from idle gossip," Lani delivers blandly.
"I assure you, my dear - I have not held my position and power for so long by listening to baseless rumours."
Lani politely inclines her head toward the Enchanter - an acknowledgement of defeat - and Vivienne's mouth curls with a small smirk of triumph. Dorian slowly blows the stale air from his lungs. Perhaps it would all be well. They just needed to get Lani up to her room and away from any stress. Give her time to properly heal; give them time to figure out a way to help her do so.
"It was not my intent to disparage your many… many, years of experience," Lani drawls sweetly, and Dorian is caught somewhere between an horrified gasp and an amused chortle. It emerges as a choking cough and he waves an apology toward Vivienne. She eyes him with a baleful glare, but her mouth - that tiny, near imperceptible quirk remains. A chill shudders through him. He'd grown up in the midst of the dangerous machinations of the Magisterium. He knows this cunning, self-satisfied look all too well. The face of someone that offers you their hand in friendship, whilst slipping poison into your drink with the other.
Vivienne is no fool. She had taken up her perch above the Great Hall, in much the same way Varric had claimed his. Seeing all, hearing all. The Enchanter used every ounce of guile she had, to carve a place for herself in a hostile environment. Biding her time, waiting for an opportunity - for this exact moment.
"If you intend to take advantage of Orlais' current vulnerability, to restore an Elven Empire with your new friends, let me remind you of what happened in Halamshiral's slums. You would see such slaughter in every alienage across Thedas. Do not think for a moment, that the Chantry would not turn on you Inquisitor. That they would not call another Exalted March."
"I would do no such thing!" Cassandra protests and Lani crosses her arms, eyeing Vivienne with barely veiled contempt.
"Let's not be jumping to extreme's here," Varric interjects. He steps toward Lani, silently entreating her to leave with him. Dorian wonders if the dwarf has sussed out Vivienne's intent as well.
"I'll not be chased off, in my home, Varric," Lani stubbornly insists.
"And when Dalish thugs run rampant amongst the populace? Indiscriminately murdering innocents - as we all know they are wont to do." Lani bares her teeth at the slur on her people's honour. "Would you not defend your people, Cassandra? Is that not your duty, as Divine?"
Cassandra splutters uselessly, unable to spring to Lani's defence when the reality of her impending duty as Divine has been invoked. The Inquisitor frowns - her magic briefly flaring - clearly disappointed by Cassandra's lack of support. Dorian wonders just how much Vivienne actually knows. Is her desire merely to create an irreparable rift between Lani and her support network?
"You are grasping at straws Enchanter, to what end I do not know," Lani grinds out and relief floods through Dorian; glad that she is not allowing herself to be goaded by Vivienne. "Whatever I discussed with Abelas is none of your concern."
"My apologies, Inquisitor," Vivienne gasps, as though mortified that anyone was offended by her remarks. "I only meant to offer kindly advice."
Varric makes a skeptical noise in his throat and he tries again to guide Lani away, but she shrugs him off.
"Not that you've ever heeded my advice in the past. In any event, do take care not to fall in love with this one." Vivienne's eyes gleam at the expression of pain that ripples over Lani's face. With every passing moment, Vivienne hones the precision of her attack and seeing a chink, she prepares to make a killing blow.
Dorian rushes forward, putting himself between Lani and Vivienne. Lani backs away from him, agitated and restless. He can feel the magic rippling out from her; heat lashing at his back.
"That's quite enough!" he barks. "I'm sure you've better things to do. Helpless orphans to devour, or some such."
Vivienne laughs at his efforts, "A smelly apostate breaks her heart and she's ready to burn the whole place down."
"It's considerably more complicated than that," Dorian snaps back.
"It seems straight-forward enough to me. Falling for a man that clearly eschews all sense of duty and community. Living a solitary life in the wilderness and prizing his freedom above all else. How foolish could you be?" Vivienne's cultured voice oozes derision.
"It's not foolish to care for others. Though I doubt a cold-hearted bitch like you would know anything about it," Varric spits.
"Why are you even defending her? I heard what you all said. What she said to Bull," Vivienne looks pointedly at Dorian. "Attacking all of you, because she can't face her own naïveté. Now we're at fault, for thinking we know better? When we did know better." She glances past him to Lani, "Take responsibility for your own poor decisions, Inquisitor, and stop lashing out at those who warned you about imprudent entanglements."
"That's your helpful contribution is it? 'I told you so'?" Dorian jeers.
"If the Inquisitor wants to behave like a petulant child, my dear, she cannot complain when she is treated as such."
"Leave now, or I will make you," Cassandra growls, her hands curling into a pair of menacing clubs.
"Is the truth so unpalatable to you, Seeker," Vivienne sneers haughtily. "Honestly, Solas was probably as tired as the rest of us, of carrying such an incompetent to victory. I doubt he actually cared for her."
"Oh, fuck you, Madam!" Dorian is at the end of his patience and Cassandra strides toward the Enchanter."
"How could he love a clinging, needy infant - so incapable of satisfying his intellectual or emotional needs? I'm sure I don't even need to mention the lack of physical gratification."
"You know NOTHING!" Lani shouts, her voice thundering through the vaulted space of the Great Hall. Dorian falls to the floor, clutching at his pounding head; ears ringing. A quick glance shows his friends, and the spectators that had gathered, to be in a similar state. All except Lani. She stands with her eyes screwed shut and face contorted in pain; her body shaking with barely contained rage.
"We're fucked," Varric squeaks - wide eyed and the colour draining from his face. Dorian's exposed skin begins to prickle once again with heat and with it comes an unfamiliar phenomenon. As the Anchor flares to life in Lani's hand, there is a tugging sensation - not just all around him, but inside him too - drawing toward Lani.
"Oh dear, did I hit a nerve?" Vivienne drawls, unperturbed by the outburst. She rises to her feet, dusting herself off. Her hands still at the sound of the low, sadistic chuckle that oozes out of Lani.
The Inquisitor's eyes snap open, a pair of blazing red pits that bore into them all. "But you will learn," Lani's canines flash in a manic, twisted grin.
Anguished cries ring out, as the temperature in the Hall spikes sharply; Dorian gasping as pain flares all through his body. It feels like his blood is beginning to boil. Sweat streams down his face and he tries to summon a barrier, to create a pocket of safety around them - but he cannot manifest it. He attempts something else, a spell to disrupt Lani or knock her unconscious, but he is utterly powerless. He gapes at Lani in horror - that pulling sensation, she was siphoning all connection to the Fade to herself.
"Kaffas" he utters in panic, catching Cassandra's eye. The Seeker's hands are thrust before her, as she attempts to dampen Lani's connection to the Fade. She scowls, shaking her head helplessly at Dorian, when her efforts have no discernible effect. The chair beside Dorian suddenly combusts and he stumbles clear, the oppressive heat draining the strength from his limbs. The panic in the Hall reaches frantic levels, as all around them furnishings catch fire.
How long before we spontaneously combust? Dorian wonders, actually thinking it might be preferable to slowly braising in his own juices - his sweat practically sizzling on his skin.
"Just put her down already, Seeker," Vivienne remarks, sounding utterly bored despite the peril they were clearly in.
"Hold on a minute!" Varric protests.
Vivienne scoffs, "Why? So she can destroy us all?"
"You keep pushing her and it'll happen!"
"I don't know, Varric…" Cassandra falters.
"You can't be serious! Dorian?" Varric pleads for him to weigh in with support.
Enveloped in curling flame, a crazed euphoria has swept over Lani's features and she arches her back, revelling in the power that courses through her. In the next moment she trembles and a sob falls from her lips. She swipes her hand across her cheeks, blazing eyes glaring at the tears that have dared to fall upon them. Lani snarls, claw-like hands closing into fists, as she screams again. Dorian claps his hands over his ears, but even so he feels her anguished howl, shuddering deep in his bones.
The temperature in the Hall ratchets up further, a blast of dry heat burning Dorian's eyes and he squeezes them closed. The sweat that runs down his face pools in the creases, stinging like acid, as it seeps past his tightly shut eyelids.
"Varric," he shakes his head helplessly, ineffectually mopping his face with his sleeve, "I don't know what to do!"
"Neither do I! I don't understand half the crazy shit that happens around here. But it doesn't mean we don't try!"
"We're going to roast alive, if we don't do something soon," Cassandra remarks, struggling to take a step forward, then another one.
"No more trying… no more pain," Lani announces, almost tenderly - as though she was murdering them all for their own good. "This world shall burn."
"Lani, please!" Cassandra begs, her hand falling to her sword.
"Do it now, Seeker!" Vivienne exhorts. Dorian turns his head, peeling his eyes open to glare at her. He had been far too generous in his estimation of Vivienne's intent - he had not thought she was so vindictive, as to want to actually harm Lani. He has failed them all, Lani especially.
"I felt like I was losing my mind."
The Inquisitor's confession rings clear in his memory - they had not heeded her words. They had become so complacent, trusting that Lani always had everything under control.
She seemed so reasonable last night, he muses, frantically thinking back, trying to see if there were signs of this madness. And the Anchor… he kicks himself again. She warned them, the power of the Anchor was greater than they knew. He should have stepped in sooner, he should had done more to keep her safe, instead of allowing his own feelings to dictate his actions and words.
When Bull told him something was off, when he said Lani had threatened him with the re-educators, it had cut Dorian so deeply. He couldn't bear to hear such hypocrisy from Lani - after what had been done to her - after he'd told her that Dorian's own father tried to alter him.
His outrage had blinded him, to a fact he knew deep down. That none of this - none of what Lani had said or done since her return - reflected the truth of her heart. Now they were caught in this impossible crisis and it was either them - or Lani. Not that he has much hope of making it out of this alive.
"If you allow her to become an abomination," Vivienne's sneering voice cuts into his introspection, "think of what that means. She can tear holes through the Veil. She could bring a demon army through at her command!"
"Oh, Enchanter," Lani purrs, "what a marvellous idea." Lani thrusts the Anchor forward, smirking gleefully, as a rift opens directly behind Vivienne.
A tiny, hysterical giggle bubbles out of Dorian's mouth. All of Vivienne's arguments were futile - there was never going to be a moment, not once they reached this point, that any of them could stop Lani. Even facing his own fiery demise, he can't help the immense satisfaction he feels, seeing the moment that this realisation finally dawns upon Vivienne. The abject shock and horror that sweeps over her face, as she is pulled - screaming and thrashing - through the rift into the Fade.
Dorian glances desperately around the Hall, seeking aid in any form. Everywhere he looks there are people caught, helpless just like him - being slowly boiled alive by Lani's seething rage.
"Inquisitor!" Cullen's voice reaches them from outside the Hall. He has arrived with armed soldiers and steps aside, directing a handful of mages to break through Lani's barrier. No matter what they try however, the magic is absorbed, dissipating harmlessly across the crackling, green partition.
No hope, no escape, Dorian curls inward, trying to block the doomed thoughts that threaten to chase the last vestiges of resolve out of him.
"Don't do it!" Varric shouts, as Cassandra inches ever nearer to the Inquisitor. Dorian can see the silent choice play out over Cassandra's face. Immense sorrow becomes resignation, and as Cassandra takes in all the imperilled people gathered in the Hall, it hardens into resolve. The Seeker draws her blade.
A screech erupts from the open rift, fuelling the urgency of Cassandra's steps, as she struggles to push toward Lani.
What terrible irony, Dorian thinks, as long, taloned claws emerge from the rippling portal. For this to be how it ends for them all - after all the rifts they had closed and all the demons they destroyed. He backs away from the rift, but it feels like moving through the sinking bogs of the Fallow Mire. Every step is a struggle, every breath becomes increasingly laboured.
"Shit! Seeker!" Varric cries out in panic. Cassandra is on her knees, clawing at her throat and gasping for breath where there is none. She has passed over a threshold, into a space where Lani's flames burn away all the oxygen.
"It isn't personal, Seeker," Lani declares, watching with detached neutrality as Cassandra crumples in a heap.
"Lani!" Dorian begs. "You're right, we don't know, we can't ever know what you've been through. How much pain you've been in, and I'm sorry!" He tries to keep it together, but he knows he is blubbering like a frightened child. "But I know you would never hurt innocent people, your friends. That's not you!"
Varric is crawling on his hands and knees, inching toward Cassandra. At last, his hands land on her foot and he heaves with all his might, pulling Cassandra back towards himself. As she is pulled clear, she shudders, gasping in huge lungfuls of air with a pained sob.
Dorian's relief is cut short by the rumbling growl over his shoulder. He raises his arms defensively, as he turns to face the Terror. Instinctively, he attempts to weave a spell, but not even a single spark of magic lights on his fingertips. He has never felt so utterly helpless in his life, his heart pounding and frenzied in his chest. He stares up into the gaping maw of the demon - spittle dripping from rows of razor fangs. Its bony, whip-like tail thrusts forward, slashing across Dorian. He cries out as it tears a gash along his forearm. He steels himself, as its talons rake toward him.
A piece of steel, dripping with black demon ichor, bursts from the Terror's chest. A second pierces through its head and the creature falls to the floor. Cole rolls neatly from his perch on the demon's back, coming to rest beside Dorian. Vivienne is not far behind him, shaken and bloodied - but alive.
"You are not welcome here!" Lani shrieks the moment she catches sight of Cole.
"I'm sorry," Cole declares, his voice choked with remorse, as he moves away; attempting to circle around Lani. Lani redirects her anger at Cole, unleashing a directed blast of magic. It burns a funnel between Lani and Cole, melting the floor of the keep. Cole vanishes suddenly and her attack crashes into the wall, bricks exploding at the impact. More demons swarm from the rift, as Cassandra and Varric scurry out of the blast zone. Cassandra raises her sword, putting herself between them all and the emerging demons.
"Show yourself!" Lani snarls, searching for any sign of Cole. "I'm going to tear you to pieces!"
"Be calm." Cole materialises behind Lani and wraps his arms around her. She stiffens at the contact and then falls limp. Dorian feels it immediately, as though a great, oppressive weight has been lifted off of him.
"Step aside, Cassandra," he warns, as he draws the energies of the Fade into himself. He unleashes an electrical storm upon the demons that swarm into the Hall. Cassandra dives in after, slashing the demons as they writhe on the ground. Vivienne dashes forward too, her spirit blade cutting a devastating swathe through the monsters.
"Beat them back!" Cullen and his troops rush into the keep with the falling of Lani's barriers.
Lani, Dorian turns to where Cole has laid her on the floor. It seems strange, that it takes a mere handful of strides to reach her, when moments ago there seemed an impassable void between them.
"I tried not to interfere. I tried so hard, Inquisitor, I swear," Cole hovers over her, morose and apologetic. "But I couldn't stand by and let them die, because of what I did." Lani is curled tight on the floor and Dorian touches her shoulder. She flinches at the contact, cringing away from him in fear and shame.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he gently murmurs, pulling her into the circle of his arms, even though she resists. "It's going to be alright. We're going to make it right."
"But I hurt you," she wails, "I was going to-"
"Please, I've had more fiery arguments with my mother," Dorian scoffs in an attempt at humour, even though his guts still clench in fear. Lani shakes against him, heaving sobs wracking her frame. He gently rubs her back, "Right now though, we really need you to close that rift."
Lani slides her hand around the side of him, reaching blindly toward the rift. Dorian has never been this close to her - never been in contact with her - when she has used the Anchor. He can feel the immense thrumming of it and a sickening sort of displacement in his flesh closest to her hand. The rift closes; discordant, angry screeches of foiled demons suddenly cutting off. The power of the Anchor subsides and Dorian presses Lani tighter against him - both horrified at the sensation of the Anchor and in awe of her resilience. He doesn't know if he could bear such a terrible curse, let alone use it, over and over without complaint, for as long as she has.
She mutters a string of elvish against his chest. It sounds like a prayer - an anguished plea for aid. He strokes her hair and shivers, suddenly feeling terribly cold in his sweat soaked clothes.
"I never thought I'd be so happy to see you, Kid," Varric declares, clapping Cole on the shoulder. Cole frowns however, as he surveys the chaos around them. Cullen and the main contingent of his troops are putting down the last of the demons. A second group slash burning tapestries from the walls, smothering the flames before they can spread beyond the keep. All around the Hall, dignitaries and other civilians help each other to their feet, clutching each other tight and a number of them openly weeping in relief.
A small cluster of elves prostrate themselves in one corner of the Hall, their pleading voices reaching Dorian over the cacophony of shouts and screeching demons.
"Lanaste! Lanaste, Leanathe, lanaste!" they cry, with their faces pressed to the stone, their fervour making Dorian uneasy.
"We should probably get you out of here," Dorian suggests to Lani.
"I should never have come back," Lani clutches at her head, despairing over what she has done.
"This is exactly where you should be," Dorian retorts and he grips her shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze. "This is your home. I didn't truly understand what you've been through and I'm sorry. We've all made mistakes, but we're going to get through it together, ok?" Lani nods, slumping against him with exhaustion.
"I'll take her upstairs," Cole volunteers, bending down to place his hands on Lani. In the blink of an eye, the two of them disappear, before Dorian can even muster a protest.
"Kaffas, we'd better get up there. I know Cole just saved us all but…" he trails off, uneasy at the thought of Cole alone with the Inquisitor.
"Sure, but first, I just want to make sure we're on the same page here," Varric grumbles. "That someone needs to get their silk covered ass booted back to Orlais?"
Dorian follows Varric's steely glare, to where Vivienne is slumped against the wall - exhausted from battling demons. Dorian scowls, anger taking place of the terror that has gripped him during the whole ordeal.
"Agreed."
TRANSLATIONS
Lanaste - mercy
Leanathe - your worship/grace/glorious being