ACT II: In The Arms of an Angel
There was a gentle ringing in my ear. Wind chimes through my thoughts that echoed under a cloud of voices. My world was dark, but for a blessed moment, I stayed that way. My body was heavy and weighed down by a blanket of unconsciousness, though I could feel the cold seep into the tips of my fingers and roll over my shoulders. It was a while more before I heard the distant clatter of voices and feet. My brain connected the dots and slowly I began to realize I was on the ground, the pain of my tattered back returned and the sticky remnants of bloodshot a shudder up my spine.
Awareness and consciousness started to return. The cold floor of the courtyard dug into my skin and my body trembled with the need to stand. My gaze returned with a flutter of my lashes and though my hearing had yet to make the same comeback, my attention shifted to the chaos around me. In some places, Adamant was on fire, stone burned with pitch that dripped down the edges. Some bodies dangled from the parapets dressed in Warden armor. Shadows passed over me, but as I loped and rolled my head against the stone, I could see no Rift.
I could still see the demons, though.
The Mark pulsed and with its anger, I heaved my right shoulder over so I could tip onto my left side and hoist myself up onto my hip. My arms throbbed with the effort of holding up my weight. I wore no armor save the plates against my thighs and calves. The only thing that clung to my upper body was a torn tunic that was stained with blood. With a weak push, I was able to get to my knees and back up on my feet. My hearing trickled back in, the clash of swords and shields rocketed my brain, the howl of demons and war-cries flooded my thoughts.
Enough…
I straightened my back, willing the painful heat of the rips in my skin to give some leeway.
Stop it…
Stroud had been left behind. The Nightmare had turned us against each other.
I had my memories back.
Enough.
My hands clenched into fists and my torso rolled as I inhaled deeply, a swirl of rage and exhaustion rushed into my lungs, devouring my diaphragm and stomach. A pressure built up at the back of my skull and something clicked deep in the recesses of my mind. My lungs at their fullest capacity, I roared into the chaos.
"Stop it!" I screamed, my voice crashing through the fighting around me, my Mark flared bright and incensed, the pocket of power I had retained when I dropped back into the world twisted and with a sudden pop, released. A wave of turbulent energy flashed from me and every demon within sight of me convulsed and jerked into obedience before their corporal forms snapped from the pressure and dispersed. The wave continued, swallowing everything it touched as the diameter of my temper tantrum grew in spades.
That had been the last of my energy, though, and with buckling knees, I dropped face-first into the stone. My cheekbone wailed with pain as it blossomed across my face, but I was too tired to care anymore. All this work, and for nothing. They were still fighting. They were still at each other's throats. Clarel's death, Stroud's sacrifice, all for nothing.
There was a storm of boots coming my way. I was too exhausted to lift my head to see if they were friend or foe. Tired as I was, my arms attempted to heave me up enough so I could assess my oncoming company. I would have grinned had I the will to do so at the sight of the first to reach me.
"Sera," I sighed in broken relief. My arm jerked under me and I fell again, but Sera dove for me as I did and caught my shoulders before I could kiss the ground. With shaking hands, she dropped to her knees, she held me and dragged me up into her lap, clutching me like a lifeline. With what strength I had, I used it to wrap a lame arm around her hips and back, sighing into her stomach as she held me.
"Bull!" Sera cried, her arms covering my face. A shadow passed over my eyes and the light from the fires disappeared for a moment. With a droopy blink, I spied my Qunari standing tall over us, his maul glinted with blood, and his expression set into a stoney snarl, daring anyone to approach. More shadows consumed us, this time Solas and Dorian appeared by Sera's head. Solas dropped to his knees as well, his hands reaching for me.
"Is she breathing?" Solas asked, his voice tight between his teeth.
"Aye, I can feel 'er breathin'," Sera answered, slowly and carefully turning me onto my side, and then onto my back. "Did tha' blast come from 'er?"
"Yes," Solas replied swiftly, his hands on my chest. "Hold her still, this may hurt her."
"Yer healin' 'er, arn't you?" Sera accused, her hands tightening as if to rip me away from Solas.
"Yes, I am, but she is losing blood at an alarming rate and I need to force quite a bit of magic into her." Solas explained heatedly, his hands warm against my collarbone. His fingers were gentle against my skin but I could see the worry etched into his brow as he concentrated. My throat worked up the courage to speak.
"Hey," I rasped, the sound was just as shredded as my back. Solas' eyes jumped to my face, surprise smoothing his brow. One hand left my collarbone and touched the underside of my cheek with careful fingers.
"Hold fast, my friend. We need to fix this." Solas soothed me. It was my only warning as a sharp, white-hot needle pierced just above my breast and electrified my muscles. As much I as wanted to hold myself in place for him, I couldn't, my muscles convulsed and gasps of pain escaped between my teeth. Dorian's face twisted into something dark, but he knelt to a knee and held my legs in place.
"What 'appened to 'er?" Sera's attention turned to Dorian. The mage hesitated as his gaze roamed over my body. Hazily, I recalled that he had seen me captured by the Nightmare, but not what he had done after when I had forced my escape. I must've looked like a right mess to him.
"I don't know," Dorian lamented quietly, "I don't know what happened after we left her."
"You'll be damned lucky if you think that's good en—" Sera snarled to a stop when my convulsing hand reached up to hold onto the arm that held me in her lap. I was too weak to say it just yet, but I squeezed my fingers into her elbow. Please don't. I had enough of the infighting. I had enough of the accusations. Sera boiled under her skin, her rage palpable in the heat of my Mark.
Solas never lost concentration.
Then, to my surprise, my brain caught up.
"You're here." My croak floated between my lips. Sera and Solas both glanced at me, but only Sera turned her gaze to Solas, the corners of her eyes hardening.
"It seems my theory may be correct," Solas murmured, his hands moving from my collarbone down between my breasts. I could feel the pinched pain between my ribs and I did my best not to jerk under his hands as the painful twitch tightened over my lungs.
"Days, then?" Dorian snapped, his frustration clear. "We left her in there for days?"
"Perhaps," Solas' hands moved down to my stomach, one palm pressed to my navel area, the other hand over his knuckles. He was sweating from his brow as he concentrated more of his healing magic into my tattered body. I hadn't thought I was that much of a broken mess, but apparently, a day-trip through the Fade did a number on me.
Suddenly, it was easier to breathe. I inhaled sharply, my lungs greedy for fresh air. My heart's thundering cadence in my chest began to slow and the pain of my back eased. I exhaled, relieved once again, and my hand slipped from Sera's elbow. My throat cleared roughly and I reached out to Solas' shoulder.
"We're good," I groused, gently pushing his hands away. "It's better."
"Better, but not fully healed." Solas ignored my urging hands.
"I need to stand. Get me up outta the dirt." I suggested with a cough. "Where's Hawke?"
"At the front lines," Dorian supplied, his warm hand running over my knee nervously. "He… was the last to come through before you. Stroud?"
"He had to stay behind," I winced as Sera carefully worked her hands down my shoulders and back to lift me from her lap. She held steady against my spine, her face painfully pinched with worry, but she remained silent. Dorian closed his eyes mournfully with his lips pursed and the muscle of his jaw jumping at my confirmation.
"Jaime," Solas warned, trying to keep me down.
"Not now, Solas, really." I said quietly, snagging his hand and holding it in my shaky fingers. "Get me up. Let me stand and face these people. I want this over."
"Yes, m'am." Sera stated firmly. She shifted behind me to stand first, and then hooked her hands under my armpits to drag me up. Dorian help with keeping my legs and knees steady before I was up under my own power. He stood, but his hands shook and he hid them behind his back. Solas held my other arm, his fingers letting go of mine to do so.
They turned me around to stare out over the courtyard. Warden and Inquisition soldiers stood side by side, weapons raised and bloodied. More poured into the courtyard, Chargers, and Inquisition, with Hawke and Cullen rushing through the crowds to reach me. I stumbled forward, my hand instinctively reaching out to Bull's arm in front of me. My Qunari made no move to avoid my touch, but his glare was glued to the soldiers that surrounded us.
"She was right!" Hawke called, his face smothered in blood and dirt. "Without the Nightmare to control them, the mages are free, and Corypheus loses his demon army."
"Though as far as they're all concerned, the Inquisitor broke the spell with the blessing of the Maker." Cullen griped darkly, continuing to make his way toward me. It was only with the slightest side-step from Bull to gently block the way between us that Cullen stopped. They stared at each other, but Cullen was the one to relent and took a step back.
It was on the tip of my tongue to snap at them, to drill into their heads that lies were the very thing that brought us here, but the flutter of Josephine's influence caught me and while I gripped Bull's arm, I controlled the urge to rage and bundled it behind my teeth. Instead, I took a deep breath and raised my head, my lips trembling.
"I don't care what stories they tell, they'll be grateful enough to have made it out alive." I grumbled, straightening my back. The rest of my companions had arrived and slithered into the courtyard. Varric forced himself up to Hawke's side, glancing between me and his best friend.
Hawke chuckled weakly, his gaze dampening as he clamped his hand on Varric's shoulder. "That's how legends get started. Or at least, that's what Varric says." Varric said nothing, his gaze cast to his feet and unable to meet my eyes. Before I could open my mouth, an Inquisition scout popped up beside Cullen, their attention on me.
"Inquisitor, Commander!" The scout bowed their head to Cullen in recognition. "The Archdemon flew off as soon as you disappeared."
"Bastard." I growled, annoyed that the damn thing hadn't been destroyed with Clarel's blast of magic.
"Yes, and the Venatori magister is unconscious but alive." Cullen continued, his mouth turned down grimly. "I thought you might wish to deal with him yourself."
"Gladly," I agreed, venom ripe in my words.
"As for the Wardens," Solas prompted, his gaze threateningly sharp on those around us. "Those who weren't corrupted helped us fight the demons." Sera snorted harshly behind me, but said nothing and adjusted her footing.
"We stand ready to help make up for Clarel's… tragic mistake." A Warden drew himself upright from the crowd, his hand against his breast in a salute as he cautiously approached me. I eyed him warily, as did my Qunari who shifted his attention to the Warden, his maul never lowering from his mid-guard grip.
The Warden hesitated, "... where is Stroud?"
Dead because of your idiocy, my temper flared. Stroud deserved far better from me for what he sacrificed, and Hawke's bowed head reminded me that the battle here wasn't quite over. I would have to wrangle this mess into something salvageable. I grit my molars and forcibly relaxed my shoulders.
"Warden Stroud… died, he saved me and us by striking a blow against a servant of the Blight." A shiver ran its slimy hand down my spine, "I would have you honor his sacrifice and remember how he exemplified the ideals you uphold, even as Corypheus and his minions tried to destroy you."
Silence rang over our heads. The Wardens around me shifted in their armors, a nervousness seemed to invade their ranks and my Mark shuddered with the collective emotion. I closed my eyes against it, I was still far too close to the Fade to ignore it and would need to leave Adamant as soon as I was able before I lost my mind at the turmoil of my emotions.
"Inquisitor," the Warden addressed me nervously, "We have no one left of any significant rank. What shall we do?"
"You're gonna stay," I damn near growled, my fingers biting into Bull's arm, "You've made it clear that even with your commanders at the head, there is little trust to bridge us anymore."
"Inquisitor," Solas attempted to interrupt, but I held my hand up to stop him, my temper returning to the base of my skull and warming a fever into my ears. Solas relented, but I could see the anger bridge his brow and frown his mouth. I knew this was going to be a hard decision, but damn what they had done.
"You will do what you can to aid the Inquisition," I continued heatedly, my gaze boring into the Warden before me, "Stroud died for the ideals of the Wardens. For you, and I will not have you run from your mistakes. This war is as much yours as it is ours and I will be damned if you get to escape it."
The Warden bowed his head.
"Do you understand me?" I demanded quietly, my voice rough as I leaned forward toward them, my hand releasing its grip on Bull's bicep. Cullen reached out a hand to help me, but I ignored it as stood before the Warden. "You are still vulnerable to Corypheus, and possibly to his Venatori, but there are plenty of demons that need killing. Are you capable? Answer me."
"Yes, Your Worship." The Warden answered, his voice trembling, but his gaze rose to mine.
"But they hurt people," Cole's voice appeared at my ear. The crowd around me jumped at the boy's appearance. A throb of grief echoed through my Mark and into my head making my neck run cold. I reached out to Cole and placed my hand on his shoulder.
"We all do, Cole." I replied quietly, my thumb pressed into his tunic. "But I would rather have them where I can see them instead of somewhere far away from where I can't reach them to stop them." Cole remained at my side, his kaleidoscope eyes searching my face before he nodded softly, reluctant.
"While they do that, I'll inform the Wardens at Weisshaupt." Hawke murmured between me and Cullen, his gaze determined and sharp. "Best they not get caught off guard."
"Please do, Hawke. Find Bethany. If she's up to it, I would have her in command under my personal request." I asked him. Hawke jerked, surprise flirting over his face before a concerned frown wrinkled his handsome features.
"Oh?" Hawke prompted, confused.
"She's the smartest of the Hawkes, you said." I replied, forcing some humor into my tone, "Can't have you run the show, can we?" For a moment, darkness passed through his gaze and I was almost certain he would deny my request, but with a sighing chuckle, he nodded.
"Thank you, Your Worship." The Warden bowed their head again. "We will not fail you."
"See that you don't," I quickly replied, "Because my next option is exile."
"Aye," the Warden agreed softly.
Hawke inhaled deeply, "Good luck with your Inquisition. Try not to start an Exalted March on anything."
"No promises," I grumbled. My eyes turned to the dwarf at his side. "And you, Varric?"
"Me?" Varric's gaze rose up to mine in surprise. "What about me?"
"Would you like to go with Hawke?" I replied gently, my strength slowly starting to wane again. "You don't have to stay with the Inquisition, you know." Varric was gripped by hesitation, his mouth working silently for a moment as he glanced over to his best friend. Hawke raised a single eyebrow, curious.
Varric had seen enough destruction to actively work against the Inquisition when they were hunting Hawke. I wouldn't be surprised if the thought of leaving had crossed his mind. It would pain me to see him go, but I knew taking the decision from him would sour our friendship. Varric paused a while longer before he shook his head with a sigh.
"No," he answered softly, "I'm going to stay with you, sweetheart."
I eyed him carefully, but there was no hesitation in his gaze. I nodded and resisted clapping his shoulder with my bloody hand. Instead, I finally reached out to Cullen, my grip trembling in his fingers as he secured his hand around mine. Cullen frowned as he steadied me and drew an arm around my torso to keep me upright as my strength waned.
"Secure the area. Restrain your men and submit to the Inquisition's officers." Cullen escorted me away from the curious gazes of the crowd around us. A cloak was dropped over my head and Bull's hulking form shifted over to my left side. Defended, I stumbled my way through with Cullen and Bull at either side as a barrier. I stared down at my armored feet as we walked. Though Solas' healing allowed me the most basic of movement, it did nothing to heal the chaos of my mind and the tsunami of thoughts that flooded me.
The rage and drive that had swallowed my mind upon exiting the Fade were drifting away swiftly, leaving me an empty husk.
"Inquisitor?" Cullen's voice floated through my ears, gently probing through my thoughts.
"Not now, Cullen. Just get us home." I stopped him, my voice cracked over the last word. My fingers reached for the edge of the cloak's hood and pulled it down over my forehead, hiding my face like an ousted beggar on the street. A rolling chill slipped down my spine as we walked through the broken remains of Adamant Fortress. Inquisition soldiers tripped around us to gather Wardens and injured.
Orders were barked out and echoed through the stones as we crossed thresholds to leave the dead bodies and pools of blood behind. The smell of rotting demon flesh and burnt bones wafted up into my nose and coated the back of my throat. Nausea and guilt started to turn in my stomach as the memories of my actions caught up with me.
Stroud.
I left him behind.
I closed my eyes and exhaled for as long as I could, the heat of my breath shooting down my chin. My heart was pounding in my temples. The weight of Cullen's arm kept me grounded, but a stone had settled in my stomach and grew heavier with each step. I had murdered people before, I had slaughtered them in waves to get to my goals. There were buckets of blood that had already poured over my head and hands.
The Wardens are a mess.
Hawke will be gone.
Blackwall is now an unknown.
And Bull…
I pulled the fabric of the cloak further down my face, nearly to the tip of my nose as new tears began to slip down my cheeks. A quiet sniff escaped me and Cullen moved his arm from my torso to my shoulders, bringing my weight against his side. I leaned into him without a thought and my Commander adjusted his stride to keep us steady as we made our way through the madness of Adamant Fortress. A small, constant buzz of noise strung through my ears, drowning out the other sounds.
I'm so tired, of everything.
We arrived at a lonely tent at the edges of Adamant just beyond the towering gates that led into the body of the fortress. Cullen slipped us inside and with careful, gentle hands, brought me to sit in a low cot and tucked the cloak softly around my shoulders, raising the hood slightly from my face. Bull remained outside to guard the opening as he was far too large to fit in the small tent.
"Jaime?" Cullen asked softly. My gaze floated up to his face, but my lips were glued shut as the words swirled into a whirlpool behind my teeth. A swallow emptied them back down my throat. I'm sorry. It repeated through my clouded mind on a sluggish repeat but my tongue and lungs refused any request to speak. Cullen winced and exhaled as the tent flaps fluttered open again.
"Here, Commander, let me have her." Dorian's sweet voice washed into the tent. Fresh, hot tears puddled at the bottom of my chin, but I hadn't felt them slip from my eyes. My face was stone and the only movement I was conscious of was the soft thrum of my lungs and heart. Something kept me quiet and restrained, but I didn't have the will or the energy to resist it, whatever it was.
"She's not answering me." Cullen replied sadly, turning to glance at me briefly when he stood to face Dorian. A pained twitch curled between my lungs. If I had the energy to protest, I would have. I wanted to answer him, to speak, but the signals never reached their designated areas and I remained frozen on the cot.
"No, friend, I don't imagine she would have the will to do so." Dorian soothed, patting Cullen on the shoulder, his expression morphed into one of confident comfort and warmth. "The Fade takes much and more from a normal soul, even a mage. I suspect she paid more than her due in there."
Cullen sighed and opened his mouth, but closed it with a quiet click.
"Solas and I will tend to her." Dorian reassured the Commander. "He has gone to find what we need. Best to leave it to us, old chap." With that, Cullen nodded and bid me a farewell with a solemn nod. I wasn't sure if I returned the gesture. Once Cullen had vacated the tent, Dorian turned toward me, his eyes inspecting my face as he knelt in front of my knees.
"Jaime." He asked, his hand raised to caress my cheek. I leaned into the warmth of his fingers. A sad smile touched the corner of his lips. "There's my good girl. Let's get you fixed up and we can take a nap, yes?"
A nap sounds nice.
Nothing came through my lips, but Dorian proceeded with his care anyway. Gently, Dorian pulled the cloak from my white-knuckle grip and withdrew it from my shoulders. Most of the tunic I had been wearing was tattered to shreds by the Nightmare, and the armor pieces were long since lost along the way.
"Darling, I need to take your clothes off and clean up. May I?" Dorian prodded my chin with a single finger to find my gaze. My lips must have moved or he heard something beyond what I could create and nodded as if I had answered him. Dorian proceeded to peel away the blood-crusted scraps of cloth from my shoulders and arms with kind fingers.
Soon, the binder I wore was also removed and I shuddered as cool air fluttered against my skin. Dorian quickly brought the cloak back up to my shoulders, tuck it up against my arms, and manually wrapped my fingers into the edges.
"There we are. We'll work on the lower part of you once we have a tub and warm water." Dorian assured me with a tender smile. From behind him, I could see the shadows of shoulders and heads bob around the front of the tent, with Bull's horns being the tallest among them. Quiet mutterings snuck through the tent flaps before Solas' head appeared between them, his expression pinched with annoyance.
"I shall only state this once, we would not need such extensive care had I been able to heal you properly." Solas accused softly. His gaze was narrowed for a moment and then faded into acceptance as he dropped his small pail by Dorian's hip and handed the mage a cloth.
"She seems responsive, Solas." Dorian dipped the cloth into the pail and wrung it out between deft fingers.
"I am surprised." Solas deadpanned. Forcibly, I glared up at him with barely a turn of my head. A smirk touched the corner of his mouth. "I see. She is. It appears you've lost your voice, correct?"
I gave him another glare as Dorian peered between the two of us, curiosity glittering through his gaze.
"Solas?" Dorian prompted, impatient.
"I suspect that the spirit that aided you in the Fade gave you just enough to survive the ordeal." Solas sat on the cot's edge and sloshed his cloth into the pail as well, twisting the excess water out. "But in so doing, the price to pay for their assistance would be the power of your voice."
"Do you mean to say that the spirit was not the late Divine?" Dorian frowned with a furrowed brow.
"Correct. The Divine would not have survived the Fade." Solas nodded, pausing to look into my eyes. "What you encountered may have well been a spirit of Guidance. They are known to inspire the soul, but their assistance is exhausting."
"Cole?" I croaked questioningly. A spirit that could assist a living person, but it would mean they would have to take or give in equal turn. It would make sense, I hadn't thought that the spirit was a specific embodiment, but I was also trying to survive with my limbs intact, so there was that.
"Yes, much like Cole." Solas replied, catching my meaning. He touched the cloak and tugged it back to expose my skin again. He and Dorian started to clean the blood from my skin and worked their way over my shoulders and down my back with confident hands. After a while, Solas produced a thick poultice and poured the liquid between his cloth and Dorian's.
"There will be scars." Solas reminded me quietly, his side-eye catching my attention. "I daresay you may rival The Iron Bull at this rate."
Dorian snorted but kept his mouth shut.
"That should be sufficient. Dorian, the clean wraps, if you would be so kind?" Solas requested. Dorian reached behind him where Solas had left new bandages to wrap me in. Carefully, the three of us wrangled my rag-doll arms around and wrapped me up securely to keep my wounds clean. The skin under them thrummed with a gentle burn and I ignored it as I settled back into the cot, lying crookedly with my legs dangling off the far end.
"I shall watch her from here, Solas." Dorian offered, dumping his rag and Solas' into the pail with murky, bloody water.
"See that she remains still. We cannot risk the wounds re-opening." Solas picked up the pail and pocketed the vial that had held the poultice. I pouted at them. I wasn't a child, I could manage to take a nap on my own without supervision.
"Let's not argue, love." Dorian soothed, running his hand over the top of my head and resting it on the cot's flat pillow. He dismissed Solas with a short, tight nod and the elf drifted away on quiet feet, disappearing through the tent flats as quietly as he had arrived.
"Now, if you don't mind, we're limited in comfortable furniture, so I shall be taking up my place with you." Dorian teased and with his arms, maneuvered me around so he could lie with me on the cot. I was turned so I could be tucked into his chest, one of his arms went under my head and neck, the other moved my limp limbs to rest in the dip of his torso and hip.
Almost as suddenly as the warm of his chest and the security of his arms went around me, I began to cry again. Christ. Where the emotion had come from, I wasn't sure. The events of our Fade excursion were starting to disappear like mist through my thoughts, but the cold, roiling terror and hungry desperation to be free remained and I could feel the distant claws scrape under my stomach.
I held onto Dorian as tightly as I could, sniffling into his throat and collarbone.
"Oh, my love. There we are. It's taken far longer for your emotions to come back. Shh, I have you." Dorian brushed his free hand of the arm over my body across my hair. With meticulous fingers, he fished my hair out of the braid that barely held together and smoothed the strands away from my head. Slowly, I relaxed into his hold, my grip releasing the robes from my tight fingers.
"This must have been exhausting. Normally a Harrowing like this is accompanied by healers to help with the emotional toll when you return, but alas." Dorian explained in a low voice. My attention was caught and I blinked hard through the wetness of my forgotten tears. Though I couldn't move my head to see him, I splayed my hands against his robe, asking in silence what he meant.
"Of course you wouldn't know. You, my love, have gone through what the Ferelden Circles had previously called a Harrowing." Dorian continued, his voice a cozy blanket over my thoughts. "You faced a demon that tempted you for freedom. You survived and returned. You are not the only one suffering the effects of our journey, but you are the only one I care about at the moment."
I gripped his robes again, willing myself to be buried into his chest. I hadn't thought of it that way. I hadn't seen it as a Harrowing like what the mages had suffered. Maker be damned, if that's what he put his children through, he was a right bastard.
"Dorian," my whisper cracked as the emotion swelled up against the base of my skull, "I love you."
"And I, you, my darling." Dorian smiled into my hair. "As you promised, together and forever. Now if we could only get that fool Qunari to admit it to himself."
My faded chuckles died in my throat as I drifted into sleep, secure in Dorian's arms.
Note: Once more, this work is un'beta'ed, but I appreciate any comments or concerns! Thanks for your continued patience, guys!