Author's Note: Trigger Warning: This chapter contains graphic depictions of assault and disturbing content that may be troubling to some readers. Reader discretion is advised.
Chapter 27: He Cried 'Fire'
Lavellan awoke in the morning to the sound of birds chirping noisily outside the balcony window. She glanced at the other side of the bed where Solas usually slept as a familiar, dull ache rang like the echo of a bell inside her heart. Sighing, she stood and pulled on a fresh tunic and went down to the courtyard garden for some fresh air.
The sound of hurried footsteps came from somewhere nearby and then an elf in gilded armor slowed upon seeing her.
"Ah, good morning Abelas," she said, biting back as much contempt as she could manage.
He frowned at her. "Slipping past the guards again?"
"No," she said, pointing her thumb behind her where a Sentinel dozed against a wall.
Abelas's lip curled in irritation, but before he could shout at the man for lazing about, Lavellan waved her hand. "Stop, leave him be. He's been on his feet all night. Really, there's no harm in it."
Abelas ground his teeth together, but decided to deal with it later. "Why are you out here instead of at breakfast? The attendants grew worried."
"Not hungry."
"You should eat. You promised-"
"-I know, I know. I will eat. Later. I just… needed a moment of fresh air, that's all."
"If you don't eat enough it could impact the health of the baby-"
"-Yes, I know, Abelas. I told you, I will come to breakfast soon. I just… I miss him."
Abelas pulled out a knife and an apple and started peeling it. "Eat," he commanded, handing her a slice. When she narrowed her eyes at him and did not take it he insisted again. "Eat. You only ate seventeen grapes, two oranges and a sweet roll yesterday. You need to eat more."
Begrudgingly, she took the apple slice. "You have people monitoring what I eat now?"
"Fen'Harel left clear orders to make certain you were healthy and well cared for. You're pregnant. You need to eat to keep up your strength."
She said nothing, accepting the next slice of apple and chewing it slowly. She stared out at the flowers, remembering all those months ago when she wandered down these paths with Solas, discussing the past. She wondered where he was, praying that he was okay.
"How did you sleep? Did you get at least eight hours of rest?" Abelas asked, passing her another slice of apple.
"Five hours, I think. I was awake for part of the night," she told him.
He frowned in frustration. "You're not taking care of yourself, my lady. You need proper rest and nutrition for the baby to thrive."
"I know," she scowled, annoyed with his lecture and herself. She was finding it difficult to focus on herself lately. She was slipping back into the dark recesses of her mind, just like she had back then, back when he had disappeared the first time. A chill ran down her spine and she repressed a shudder as terrible thoughts swirled inside her head.
Abelas, who had seen that look before in many others, tossed the apple core into a nearby bush and said, "Come. Follow me. There is something you should see."
She followed behind, feeling too numb to object. When he walked past the dining room, however, she raised an eyebrow in surprise, but said nothing. They continued back up the stairs where he insisted she walk in front of him (making her feel like an unbalanced top likely to fall). As they neared the eastern wing, he turned left instead of right, which would have led back to her quarters, which is where she assumed he was leading her for more rest. They reached the hallway and he paused outside a door and opened it with a key.
"Here. I thought you should see it," Abelas said. As she slipped by him he wore a hint of a smile.
The scent of fresh paint touched her nose as she entered. The room was covered in elven murals in a familiar style she recognized. Halla pranced through a field with aravels in the distance. Birds soared overhead and peaked out from behind bushes and trees. Silver fish swam in a lake of clear blue water.
"It's beautiful," she whispered. "Did he… Did Solas do all of this for the baby?" she asked, turning to Abelas, who was leaning against the wall with his arms folded.
"Yes. This is the nursery. He was planning to surprise you with it when it was finished, but I thought you might need to see it now. The furniture has already been ordered and most of it is being stored in the connecting room while he finishes the mural."
She peeked inside the connecting room, catching a glimpse of a crib half-covered in a drop cloth and an ornate four poster bed beyond.
"I believe the plan was to relocate your personal items down here so that you might be able to care for the baby easily. Otherwise, you can always have the wet-nurse stay here if-"
"A wet-nurse?" she asked, confused.
"Someone to help care for the child, with nursing and the like," he explained, surprised she had not heard of it.
"Oh," was all she said, uncertain about how she felt about that. Did he not think she would be able to feed her own baby? Or was he afraid she might not live to do so?
Abelas noted the way her face fell. "It is common among the nobility, to have someone aid in child rearing. But a wet-nurse can also be of help if the mother does not produce enough milk, which can happen to some women," he said. "It may be of use to have assistance, particularly if you are disinclined to give up your missions and other duties with the Inquisition. Or if you need a hand, so to speak," he finished pointedly.
His snide comment went unnoticed as she stepped closer, enthralled by the details of the mural. She bit her lip, peering around the room and touching the aravels in the mural forlornly. "I used to help with my friends' children. I could never be a wet-nurse of course, but in the clan, everyone helps with the child-rearing. I used to sing them songs and swaddle them in blankets I knit myself. But I can't knit anymore," she said, clenching the wooden hand sadly. "I broke one of the needles last time I tried. I always thought that when I had a baby, if I had a baby," she corrected, "I would raise it like I had raised them, with my whole clan to help. But I guess it will be different. It will just be me. And Solas." Her finger traced the horns of one of the halla. "What was it like, before, in your time, to raise a child?"
A shadow passed across Abelas's face. "That is none of your concern."
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I did not mean to offend. Solas hardly speaks of it. I can't help but wonder how different things might be if he succeeds."
"Your child will not be born into the same world as Fen'Harel. In many ways, it will not be the same world you yourself were born into. It will be something entirely different," he told her, staring into a distance she could not see. "Everything will change," he said sorrowfully.
"Everything always does," she said, glancing down at her belly and shifting her balance to relieve an ache in her back. She turned to Abelas, pensive for a moment as she hesitated over her thoughts. "Abelas. I hope that when the Veil is restored, you will find peace again."
Abelas studied her curiously, narrowing his eyes. He was spared from responding when an attendant arrived, looking frantic. "What is it?" he asked.
The young man's eyes darted between the two of them and he said in a stuttering voice, "One of the servants found a box outside the kitchens. It has-Inside-" he cut off, putting a hand to his mouth to suppress a wave of nausea. "A severed hand," he choked out, shaking his head to clear the thought. "No one knows where it came from or who the hand belongs to, but fear is spreading amongst the staff. I've sent for the guards, but no one has touched the box yet. You have to come, quickly!"
Abelas and Lavellan exchanged a serious glance, hurrying behind the attendant as he led them down the hall.
"Was there a note?" Abelas asked, concerned.
"No. Just the hand," the attendant said, hurrying down the stairs in front of him.
"What about a body?" Lavellan asked, trying to keep up with them.
"No body yet."
They reached the landing that led to the kitchens.
"Wait!" Lavellan called to Abelas, racing forward and grabbing his wrist.
He paused only for a moment as the attendant rounded the corner. "What?"
"In Dalish clans, throwing down a glove or a gauntlet is an invitation to a fight. In some cases, in wars between the clans, a severed hand would be sent. This could be dangerous."
"Which is why you should stay here," he said, rounding the corner. When she followed him he shook his head.
"It could be one of the clans. If it is, I need to know. I'm still the Dalish Ambassador for the Council."
Abelas ignored her and pushed open the doors to the kitchen.
"Where is everyone?" Lavellan asked, noticing a lack of curious or fearful onlookers near the kitchens. The hairs on the back of neck stood on end, though she did not know why.
"The staff were told to leave the area for their own safety," the attendant said. "The box is just through there," he said breathlessly, pointing to the open double doors, which had been left ajar.
"Why is no one guarding the area?" Abelas growled under his breath. Turning to the attendant, he jabbed his finger back the way they had come. "Order the guards to secure the area. Now," he ordered.
The attendant rushed away.
Abelas turned back, scanning the room as he approached the box warily. "Something isn't right," he murmured, just as a loud click came from behind of a lock sliding into place.
"Well, you're right about that," a voice said in a smooth Antivan accent.
They turned around to see the attendant come back around the corner as he loosed an arrow straight at Abelas.
"No!" Lavellan shouted, but the arrow sank into Abelas's shoulder, between the spaces in his armor. She held up her hand to cast a spell, but the Antivan shook his head, pointing another arrow at her.
"Ah, ah, ah, Lady Inquisitor. I wouldn't do that if I were you. One slip of my finger and it's all over."
Her eyes flicked from Abelas, who had slumped against a table, clutching the arrow and sputtering for breath, and the Antivan, his eyes alight with excitement.
The Antivan whistled a bird call and a shadow filled the doorway behind her. The doors closed and the scent of smoke and oil lingered in the air. "Don't move," the Antivan warned as sparks leapt from her fingertips.
Her heart pounded in her chest as the person who cast the shadow approached her from behind. "Aneth ara, ma vhenan," the voice whispered. A blade tip slid along her shoulder, until it glistened in the dull light of the iron chandelier overhead. "Don't go getting any ideas," the voice said, brushing back her hair. "The Antivan poisons can work wonders, I hear. Just a little is enough to paralyze the body."
"Varitan," she breathed, hardly daring to believe it. He had found her.
"You remember. Good. I'm glad to see I've been on your mind. You've certainly been on mine," he said, shining his blade in the light for her to see.
"What do you want, Varitan?" she whispered.
Varitan slid his hand down her back as he leaned in, close enough for her to feel his breath on her neck. "What I've always wanted from you, vhenan." His hand squeezed her ass and she tried to elbow him in the ribs, but he grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back, bringing the blade up to her neck. "Your heart, ma vhenan. If you will not love me, so be it. I will carve your heart from your chest when I am through with you."
"Use the damn poison already," the Antivan hissed. "We haven't got all the time in the world here."
"Patience. We have time enough. The mill will burn for hours before they can put the fire out," Varitan replied, touching the tip of his blade to Lavellan's neck. She felt the metal pierce through her skin. "Won't be long now. You can see how it works on your little friend over there. First the body grows heavy, sluggish. Then the limbs stop working and soon after that you'll find it difficult to breathe. But the body is strong. It will try to fight. I had hoped I might have the Dread Wolf for an audience, but I suppose this guard will have to do," he sneered at Abelas, whose skin grew grey with veins pulsing along his neck and forehead as he struggled to breathe.
"Now, I'm just going to take what you owe me," Varitan said with a sneer, pushing her forward against the table.
Her wooden hand slammed down, preventing him from pushing her all the way down to her stomach.
Spinning her around, he knocked her wooden arm away and pushed her onto her back instead. "Obey or I'll-" he broke off, staring at her in shock. "You're pregnant." He put a hand on her belly and she recoiled.
"Don't fucking touch me!" she snarled.
"Nearly ripe, I'd say," the Antivan muttered.
Varitan's eyes blazed with fury. "The Dread Wolf has taken you. I should cut out the demon before it's too late. But then again, it already is. It can die with you," he snarled. He slapped her across the face, hard enough to make her ears ring. "You could've been mine," he growled, pressing the flat edge of the blade against her throat.
Her wooden hand gripped the edge, keeping it from choking her as she tried to shock him. Her spell missed when he knocked her hand aside with a dagger.
Then he pressed the dagger against her belly and she stopped struggling. "That's right. You're going to stop or I'll start by killing that thing inside you."
She froze and tears spilled down her cheeks.
"Good girl. Let the poison do its job and you can just lie there and enjoy it."
His dagger cut down the length of her tunic with a loud tearing sound when all at once she kicked him in the gut and grabbed the blade with both hands, pushing it away from herself.
Varitan fell against one of the ovens, yelping in pain as he burned himself on the hot stone. Lightning sparked around the room as an arrow flew past her nose and she wheeled around to see the Antivan fall to the ground behind Abelas's sparking hand. He was still frozen, struggling for breath, his eyes darting from her to the screaming man behind her.
Varitan threw himself at her, but she shoved her hand forward and blasted him back again. Before he could rise flames encircled him and she picked up his blade and slashed it across his chest. The effect was immediate and he froze, choking on a scream that would not come. As a final measure, she stabbed him through the heart, letting the blood pool upon the sawdust and stone at her feet.
Extinguishing the fire, she made certain he was well and truly dead before hurrying to Abelas's side. The Antivan at his feet was certainly dead, eyes still wide in shock. She searched him, but when she rolled him over, the other vials were shattered beneath him. Swearing she turned back to Abelas, uncertain of what to do until she remembered the necklace at her neck. Passing a hand over her neck where the wound lay and healing the remaining cuts on her palm from the blade, she removed her necklace and placed it around Abelas's neck instead. The effect was almost instantaneous. Color returned to his face and he drew in deep, rasping breaths.
Carefully, she grabbed a serrated knife from nearby and carefully sawed the feathered end off of the arrow. Abelas groaned in pain, but she worked as fast as she dared, tossing aside the broken half and pulling Abelas forward. Wrapping a cloth around the arrow's tip to avoid cutting and poisoning herself, she gripped it tightly and pulled the arrow through and out. Abelas bit back a scream. Then she placed her hands on either side of his wound and began to heal it.
"It's done," Abelas wheezed beside her, brushing away her trembling fingers and rubbing at his throat. "They're dead?" he checked with her, kicking the Antivan with his foot.
She nodded, the color draining from her face. She placed her hand on her belly and it glowed for a tense moment as she checked on her baby. A sigh escaped her in relief. "The baby is okay. Strong heartbeat. No damage from what I can tell."
Abelas massaged his throat, drawing in deep breaths. "You're not bleeding, are you? If he used poison…" he trailed off, still panting as he recovered.
"The pendant should've protected me-us-from the damage of the poison. It was a betrothal gift from Solas."
She put her hand on his chest and he recoiled, but then stilled as her spell eased the pressure on his lungs and his breaths came much easier. He stared at her, a strange feeling coming over him. "Why are you helping me?"
She gave him an irritated look. "Because you're injured and it's the right thing to do."
He clamped his mouth shut, looking at her uncertainly as her hand moved up to his throat. The veins receded back beneath his skin and the broken capillaries healed beneath her touch.
"You'll need to rest. The poison's effects shouldn't bother you with the pendant still active, but I'll need to make up an antidote before you can take it off. Just to be certain," she said quietly.
Abelas pulled her hand away and made to stand, testing his balance momentarily to be certain the worst of the poison's effects were no longer active. "You knew him," Abelas said, moving around the table and inspecting the burned corpse.
Lavellan stayed where she was. She didn't want to look at him. "Yes. His name was Varitan. My father wanted me to bond with him. It was why I left my clan in the first place. He tried to kill Solas at our ceremony. Then he was captured and exiled."
"Yes, I heard. And the Antivan?"
"Not sure. A Crow carrying out a contract, I'm guessing. Not sure why though. I thought they were after Solas."
"Perhaps he assumed, incorrectly, that I was Fen'Harel. It would explain why Varitan seemed disappointed-"
"Don't," she said, cutting him off.
He fell silent.
"When you make your report, keep it concise. They made their attack and were quickly subdued. The details don't matter," she said, her voice growing quiet. She turned away.
"Wait, where are you going?" Abelas called, following behind her.
"To put out whatever fire they started so it doesn't spread," she replied, grabbing the lock on the door.
He put his hand on the wood of the door, preventing her from opening it. When he spoke, his voice was soft. "Let someone else deal with the fire, my lady."
Angry tears burned at the corners of her eyes and her face reddened as she turned on him. "I'm a mage, I can do this. I'm not a helpless little girl!" she yelled. She stared at him, defiant even as the tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks. "I'm not helpless," she repeated.
Abelas's brows drew together and he stepped in front of the door, blocking her path. His fingers unclasped his cloak and he drew it around her, covering the torn remains of her shirt. "No, you are not," Abelas agreed. "But just this once, let someone else take care of it. You've done enough for today."
She stared at him and blinked back her tears before nodding silently.
He summoned guards to secure the area and led her back to her room, where he stood outside, guarding her long into the night.
Later that evening, when the stars had risen, she knocked on the door and slipped out with a potion in hand. "Here," she said, pressing it into Abelas's hands. "This should do the trick."
Abelas took the potion and sniffed it, wrinkling his nose. "You were supposed to be resting," he chided.
She shrugged. "I wanted my necklace back. Now drink it down and then have some water to get rid of the taste," she said, handing him a glass.
Frowning, he tossed back the potion. Grimacing at the taste, he quickly finished off the water as well. "How do you know about antidotes to Antivan poisons?" he asked warily.
"Took a very keen interest in it after I was poisoned on my way to Arlathvhen. And I keep an Antivan Crow or two on hand who can whip an antidote up quickly."
"People do seem to want to kill you," he remarked, setting the glass down on a small table.
"Yes," she said, almost despondently. "Many have tried. Few have succeeded though."
"You'll be pleased to know that the grounds have been searched. All members of staff have been accounted for. And they were able to put out the fire at the mill."
"And the hand?"
"Belonged to the miller, unfortunately."
"I'm sorry to hear that. I'll send some gold to the family along with my condolences."
"A kind gesture," he replied. "You were right about the Crow. We found the missive on his body. No other identifiers though. We think he was working with Varitan alone to make it easier to infiltrate the castle. The bodies will be burned on the morrow. Unless you feel we should do otherwise."
She shook her head. "Burn them. And have Din'al send a letter notifying Allendra of Clan Ser'valen that her former partner is dead. Spare the details though, for her sake."
Abelas frowned, but did not say anything else on the matter. "I'm going to increase security on the castle and post additional guards to your security detail."
"I assumed as much," she said with a sigh.
Abelas was quiet for a moment. "I apologize for my remarks about you... before. They were… an unfair assessment of your character." He avoided eye contact with her when he said it, hating to admit any misgivings.
Lavellan raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't worry Abelas. You can still hate me because I'm Dalish. Wouldn't want anything to change between us," she added dryly.
Abelas smirked. "As you wish, my lady."
"Good night, Abelas. Try not to get shot or poisoned on my behalf," she said, opening the door to her room again.
He gave a small bow of the head before she disappeared behind her door. "Good night, my lady."