Thank you all for reading! Special thanks to suilven for her thoughtful and speedy betaing!
They all huddled there for a long time, lost in their own fears. Nightmare's laughter sounded around them, the din pounding in Lilias's head.
But slowly, something else found their way through the laughter and the mocking words, the words that were so very true: Bethany's voice, soft and low, singing a song their mother used to sing to them when they were small. Slowly, Lilias shifted so that she held her sister in her arms, and they rocked together, Lilias's voice joining Bethany's in the song.
"I didn't know," Bethany whispered. "Until it said that—I always thought … You were the strong one, I thought it was all your choice, that you had everything you wanted, everything your own way."
Lilias gave a gulping sob of a laugh. "None of it was my own way. I wanted … I don't even know what I wanted, it was so long ago that I even thought I had a choice."
"I've been resenting you for so long. I'm sorry." Bethany held her tighter. "No longer, I promise. We're going to get y—we're going to get out of here. All of us." She stood up, gripping Lilias's hands and pulling her up, too.
As if from nowhere, a swarm of deepstalkers came, their long necks sticking out, their eyes red, spraying their acidic little droplets as they hissed.
"Maker's blood!" Lilias cried, pulling her daggers.
The sound of the blades, or the sound of her voice, or both, had Alistair, Thule, and Cassandra on their feet, trained fighters all.
Varric rose, too, a bit more slowly. "I'm with you, Hawke." He turned his head. "Daisy?"
"I …" Her eyes were fixed on Solas, wide and curious and a little fearful. "I … yes, of course, Varric."
As the rest of them joined battle, Solas seemed to snap out of his trance as well, his staff moving smoothly.
"What were those?" Alistair asked when all the deepstalkers lay dead around them. Lilias frowned at him—had he never seen deepstalkers before? He must have.
"Those were little fears," Solas said, "tiny manifestations spawned from the Nightmare itself."
"Did they have to be spiders?" Varric groused, brushing at his coat.
"Spiders?" Cassandra asked in surprise. She looked down at the deepstalkers with revulsion. "I see maggots, crawling in filth."
"Of course. They take the form of our greatest fear. Whatever you fear, that's what you'll see," Thule said. They all looked around at each other, each wondering what everyone else had seen but no one wanting to ask.
Instead, they started forward again, toward the replica of the Breach in the sky. Their loss of themselves to the fears the Nightmare had played on wasn't discussed; nothing was discussed. They walked silently, trudging through the endless rock formations, all of which looked the same. Only the Breach was different, hanging there above them and stubbornly refusing to come any closer.
More demons surrounded them, and as before, the Inquisitor screamed and clutched his head and lay in Merrill's lap and muttered to himself.
When he came to, he described running from the Nightmare's little minions, which he called spiders. He told how the Divine had been ahead of him, how she had held the Breach open for him, how the spiders had grabbed the edge of her robe and dragged her back, how she had told him to go. And how he had gone.
Even Lilias, not a terribly devout Andrastean, was torn between horror that he would have left the Divine to die and admiration for the Divine's selflessness.
The image of the Divine appeared near them, walking serenely in their direction. The Inquisitor got up from the ground and approached her. "It was you," he said. "They thought it was Andraste sending me from the Fade, but it was you. Thank you."
"And then she died," Cassandra said, turning away from the spirit.
"Yes. I am sorry if I disappoint you." Her eyes were on Cassandra, the look gentle and affectionate and sorrowful. And then the image of the Divine was gone and a creature of light stood before them in her place.
"A spirit watching her from the Fade, inspired by her faith?" Solas asked.
"If that is the story you wish, it is not a bad one."
Cassandra was fighting back tears, trying to get herself under control.
"Now that I have my memories back, are we ready to face the demon?" the Inquisitor asked the spirit. "Will you help us?"
The glowing head nodded.
"Then let's get the Void out of here," Varric said, leading the way.
The Nightmare's voice surrounded them again. "You think you can defeat me? I am the veiled hand of Corypheus himself! The demon army you fear? I command it. They are bound all through me!"
"Bound all through you?" Alistair drew his sword. "So we banish you, we banish the demons."
"I'm all for that," Varric said fervently.
Nightmare growled angrily, and around him Alistair could feel everyone taking courage in having rocked it back on its heels, as it were.
And then it was before them, an ugly Broodmother of a creature, giant and menacing. Around him, the others made noises that revealed they saw the monsters of their own nightmares lurking before them.
Above their heads, the spirit called out to the Inquisitor, "If you would, please tell Leliana: I am sorry, I failed you, too." And then it flew at the demon, destroying itself in a shower of bright sparks that left a pitted crater in the stomach of the Broodmother. It screamed its anger, and next to Alistair, Bethany screamed back, drawing her staff and attacking it viciously.
The others joined battle. Alistair found his spirits rising at the familiarity of his shield on his arm and his sword in his hand, the smooth, practiced movements that were such a part of him.
The fight was long and wearying, and the Nightmare tried everything in its bag of tricks, but they knew that the safety of all depended on everyone working together—and holding themselves together. And every time one faltered, the others converged to support them until they were back on their feet.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, they wore the demon down, until at last, with a final impotent scream of rage, it collapsed.
Behind the demon's fallen form, the rift glowed a pulsing, vivid green. Varric pushed his way through with difficulty, the rift sucking around the edges of him until he was all the way through. Merrill followed. Each of them seemed to take forever to Alistair, standing there and waiting. Solas went next, shoving at the edges of the rift, although that didn't seem to speed his progress any.
Cassandra glanced up, terror in her face, and Alistair followed her glance. A massive spider hovered above them, dropping from nowhere on a thick, oozing thread. There wouldn't be time for all of them to get through before it fell, and it would close off the rift.
"Go!" the Inquisitor shouted, and he shoved at Cassandra. A soldier through and through, she knew an order when she heard one, and she went.
"I'm staying. I'll hold it off until you all get through," Bethany announced calmly while Cassandra fought her way through.
"No. You aren't. I'm not losing you, Bethany. I … I'm not!" Lilias said. "I'll stay; you go. Live your life."
Alistair felt fear squeeze his heart, cold and sharp, worse than anything the Nightmare could have done. He had lost Leyden; could he lose Lilias, too, and in such a similar way? Not and live with himself. Over her head, he saw caught Bethany's eye, and she gave a very small nod.
He looked at Thule. "Go on."
Thule hesitated only a moment; but they all knew he was the one who was needed in the real world, to close the rifts and stop Corypheus, so he went.
Bethany reached out, putting her hands on either side of her sister's face. "I love you," she said. Alistair thought he saw a tear roll down her face, and then he realized it was a droplet of whatever was oozing down the spider's rope. It was much closer now; they were almost out of time. Bethany brushed the droplet away, and then she spoke a word he didn't understand and Lilias fell back in his arms, unconscious.
"Do you love her?" Bethany asked him.
"I …" In that moment, he knew that he did. Maybe not the same as he had loved Leyden, maybe not enough, but … he did love her. Had loved her all these years.
"Then … take care of her. And get her the Void out of here. Try—try to make her understand that … that I choose this. For once, my choice."
Alistair nodded. He hesitated, wanting to say something, to honor Bethany's sacrifice, but she was calm and ready, and there was no time. He hoisted Lilias over his shoulder and pushed his way into the rift. It was sticky and clammy and gluey, and once he thought he might lose his hold on her entirely, but he made it through.
Thule looked past him for Bethany, but Alistair shook his head. "Close it now."
Raising his hand, the Inquisitor closed the rift, and Bethany was lost to them.