A/N: Thank you for reading!
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Spires of uneven green rock floated in the sky, with a few smaller, loose rocks punctuating the empty air. The path she was on snaked out into nothingness ahead, a few haphazard attempts at buildings hanging near, but not connected to it. Wisps played in the distance, darting after one another, an occasional arc of magic crackling between them as they teased and played.
And above it all, the Black City hung, it's dark outline somehow standing out against the void around it.
The Fade was a bit more obvious than usual, almost clear—it was still too bright and too fuzzy, yet somehow she felt almost like she'd been drawn back into the Fade physically. Solas had mentioned that there were likely to be more side effects for the mark. Could this be one? Could it somehow draw her closer into the Fade?
The mere idea of it made her uneasy.
She tried to think back to her last memories. They'd started the trek to Denerim. Despite wanting to cuddle up to Cullen every night, he'd pulled her aside the morning they were to leave and explained that it would look unbecoming for her to be so intimate with her general. It would look like their relationship had sway over opinions and decisions.
Finley didn't quite understand that, but she'd asked Josephine casually about it—she hoped it had been casually, as she didn't want to get Cullen in trouble—and Josephine and Leliana had both confirmed it.
In the end, it boiled down to politics.
Josephine had seen Finley's irritation and offered her that a quiet relationship out of the public's prying eyes wouldn't be so frowned upon.
Finley didn't see that it mattered. If they both did their jobs, what did it matter if they were sleeping together?
And why couldn't they on the trip up? It was just sex. It wasn't like she was demanding he march the templars a certain way or she would flit off in the middle of it to leave him to please himself.
He was right there, and yet she was expected to treat him like any other person in the Inquisition.
It frustrated her more than she would have expected.
Curious. I would not have expected you to fall so readily for a templar.
Her stomach turned at that familiar non-voice, that echo in her mind that never quite reached her ears.
Whirling around, Finley grew still.
A desire demon—her desire demon—lounged a short ways behind her, the demon playing with a wisp and swooped and danced around her hands and horns, like a pet of some kind. With a wave of her hand, the wisp flitted off into the sky, disappearing with surprising quickness.
As Finley's gaze snapped back down to the demon, breath held that the creature might have drawn closer, she found her still relaxed, though her dark eyes were on Finley, unblinking.
Long nails tapped lazily against an imitation of a large, mossy rock that she had seated herself on.
Finley knew that rock. It was one of her favorites in the Wilds.
She didn't like the demon resting there, even if it was just an echo of the real thing.
What bothered her, more though, was that she hadn't felt the demon's presence, hadn't even known she was being watched. Did that mean that the fear demon she'd felt after her before might still be watching her as well?
How exactly did Solas' charm work?
You needn't fret. You are safe.
Despite herself, she was almost disappointed that the demon still bore the telling traits of desire. After a few of Finley's talks with Solas on the way back from the Wilds about how perception played a great role in what was seen in the Fade, she'd half wondered if she would see the creature differently, but the creature was still a desire demon, horns curving up and away from a ghostly face, black eyes with slit, white pupils watching her.
Always watching…
Finley wasn't sure what to do. It had been years since the demon had come directly into her dreams like this. She knew Finley didn't want her around.
The creature stretched languidly and sat up finally, appraising her carefully.
We must talk.
The words had been serious, echoing far less than most things did in the Fade, as though they were trapped in a small space. Her demon had never done this sort of thing before, though Finley had heard of it. She'd heard horror stories of other mages facing demons in their Harrowings, of how the demons manipulated the world to pull them in. To be let in.
That was not about to happen.
Frowning, Finley whirled away from the demon, only to find the scene she'd just turned away from in front of her. Echoes of both Donovan's and Solas' suggestions to confront the creature whispered in the back of her mind—no doubt easy for the creature to read—but Finley rejected them.
Once you preferred me, you know. The demon let out a wistful sigh. You asked for me. You wanted your mother to bring her 'black eyes' back. There was an odd fondness in those words.
The world around them shimmered and twisted and suddenly between the two of them, Finley saw a tiny, child's version of herself, sitting with her mother—with the demon wearing her mother.
"Bird," the demon murmured as she patted a finch on the head with a finger.
Finley's tiny hands wrung together as she inched closer, whispering the word. "Bir."
"Bird," the demon reiterated.
Tentatively, Finley patted the bird, a little roughly, on the back. With a shiver, it took flight, soaring off into the sky. Finley watched it with wide, wondering eyes, a single laugh slipping out before she hushed herself, looking at her mother, as though to see what the response would be.
The demon simply smiled and drew her closer, holding her in her lap and petting her hair.
Finley stared up at the sky, watching the great blue stretch out overhead. "Bir…"
Pulling her attention away from the quiet moment, Finley scanned their surroundings, feeling dread curling inside of her. She couldn't stay here. She searched the air and their surroundings for signs that a spell was in place. If she dispelled it, she could leave…
You will not ignore me today.
Finley glanced at the creature to see her past the frozen memory, standing close to the conjured image of a peaceful Finley with…that.
Finley took a careful step back.
Child, you test me.
"I'm not a child." Finley hissed, despite herself.
More images burst to life around them, of her mother's possessed form rocking her when she was little, teaching her other words, patting her head and telling her she would keep her secret if she cried.
Even as panic began to roil in her, Finley shook her head. Even as she tried not to let herself get swept up in the memories spilling forth around her, her gaze happened on her hand. Even here in the Fade, her hand was marked with that same, shimmering green.
An idea sprung to life, and abruptly she brought up her left hand, clenching her fist. The mark crackled and the images melted away.
For a moment, the two of them were silent. It was easily the first time that she'd ever directly challenged the demon in such a manner, and she felt fear prickling up her spine.
The demon looked mildly put out, though she simply shook her head. I told you not to fret. I've already rummaged through enough minds to know that children are rarely grateful to their parents. There was a hint of indignance in that last bit.
Shaking her head, Finley glared. "You're not—"
Before she could finish, the demon was in front of her, almost nose to nose. She motioned around them as though she might bring back those earlier memories. Who fed you? Who bathed you? Who taught you your first words? Who kept them from drowning you in every puddle they came across?
Without meaning to, Finley winced at the last part, remembering her father's complaints clearly. The Fade brought them back, a harsh, crisp edge to his disdain.
"Better to drown the rat than let that thing keep playing with it."
Finley didn't want to do this. She didn't want to delve into the past, into all the things that had happened. She didn't like to think back to before her time with Ser Caudry and the others.
Her host was of another mind. I have cared for you your whole life, even if you pretend you don't remember. I've kept you safe from demons and mages alike.
The words were a challenge, an assertion that she could neither flee from nor ignore. The words 'don't cry' echoed in her head as she tried not to panic. She took in a slow, ragged breath, meeting the creature's stare. "Don't pretend you never hurt me."
For an instant, the demon looked truly, honestly distressed by the accusation. Her gaze broke away from Finley's as though rummaging through her own memories. Then, at length, the creature shook her head. I did not. I protected you.
Finley stiffened. "You told him my blood would help his spells."
I never bled you. I held you safe.
Without thinking, Finley's face twisted with anger. "If not for you, he wouldn't have bled me, hurt me, at all!"
He would have done far worse had I not intervened.
"It still hurt!"
The Fade twisted at her words, cracks shooting through the rock around them, jagged and empty. Everything felt too empty. There wasn't enough air in the Fade, though that shouldn't have been much of a surprise. Funny that she would need so much in a dream, though…
Stepping back, the demon looked truly unsettled by Finley's words, as though they were some great revelation. Finally, her voice whispered out, far fainter than usual. He needed a reason to keep you.
Finley's shoulders shuddered. "No, he didn't."
Children are supposed to stay with their parents.
"Not when they're murdering, sadistic monsters!"
At that, the demon did something she hadn't expected. Her eyes widened and then she looked away, as though searching for something and finding the Fade empty of it.
Finley felt light-headed and sick.
Could this thing in front of her really have never realized what she was doing was wrong?
The memories of the boy being let go, of all the others who had died when she didn't want them to, came bubbling back. She tried not to think, not to let the Fade catch hold of them and bring them to the surface to be reenacted.
I do not know how to fix what has been done.
"You can't." The words were barely a whisper. She needed to wake up.
For a moment, the demon looked so incredibly hurt. The world around them shifted, the rocks more spiked than before, as though reflecting the creature's distress. With both of them miserable, the Fade itself seemed to crumble away.
I could… She stopped herself with a sigh. You would not accept that.
The creature looked disappointed when Finley didn't ask about what she had thought of. Disappointed, but not surprised.
I will leave you to your dreams of that pretty thing you curl up with at night, the demon offered, though the fact that she knew of Cullen left a bit of a pit in Finley's stomach, but—
"You can't hurt him." Wake up, wake up, wake up…
The demon shrugged her command away as though it were nothing. Instead, her tail flicked behind her, agitated. After what looked to be an internal debate, finally, she turned away, flicking her hands up in defeat. Much more of this and I will forget why I drew you here.
Finley tensed, though the creature either didn't notice her fear or ignored it.
This king you seek to ally yourself with. He considers himself a witch hunter. The demon stopped a few feet away, glancing back over her shoulder. He fears neither Flemeth nor her daughters, and will not care if blood does not tie you to them. And more than that, he has evidence of who your blood does tie you to.
For a moment, the Fade was eerily silent.
Finley was having trouble concentrating. The world spun, and she was rather sure it wasn't just a whim of the Fade. Wake up…
"Why tell me this?"
For the same reason I drew you out of the Nightmare's realm. For the same reason I always… The demon trailed off, looking forward again, body rigid.
"I never asked for your help." Finley clarified, feeling that usual dread bubbling back up. "I owe you nothing."
The demon let out a half laugh at that. It rang bitter, though when she spoke again, she didn't argue. One last word of advice, whether you take it or not… The king and your newest playmate have seen eye to eye in the past. He may have left that Order of his, but he'll always be a hunter, and we both know what you are.
No sooner had the words been spoken, the Fade shifted to something resembling sprawling fields, with large trees climbing lazily toward the heavens.
Finley's eyes snapped open, and she jerked upright, her breath catching in her throat. Someone help her, but she couldn't breathe. It was as though the air had been squeezed out of her lungs while she was in the Fade. No wonder she'd been so lightheaded.
Even as she tried to breathe, she felt something twisted around her ankles legs.
Half-awake as she was, she was sure the templars were making their move.
She flailed against the restraints, kicking and clawing until they came undone and fell away from her. As she dragged herself away, looking about at her surroundings to see how many of her attackers there were, she slowly realized that she was in her tent. As he gaze snapped back to her discarded bindings, she found her blanket, bunched up and torn in a few places.
"Inquisitor?"
She jerked her attention toward the flap of her tent, hunching closer to the ground. She didn't know that voice.
"Are you alright?"
"Go away." She snapped back.
There was a shuffle outside, and then the shadows moved to rearrange themselves across the tarp separating her from whoever that had been.
There were too many people here…
With barely a thought, she ducked out the back of the tent as quietly as she could and wove her way through the shadows until she found a sizable tree at the edge of camp.
Only when she was perched safely in the upper branches did her heart finally begin to slow. The wind was sharper and stronger in the upper branches, and she gulped down that cold, clear bliss. As the fears and fight drained out of her, she leaned back against the trunk, closing her eyes.
She wouldn't get any more sleep tonight.
She heard what sounded like the whimper of a wounded animal, and even as she stopped to wonder what it was, she realized that she was the one making that noise. Tears spilled unwanted down her cheeks, and her chest heaved, even as she tried to tell herself to stop being so pitiful.
This was that stupid demon's fault.
There was no way what she'd said had really been news. She'd thought those things so many times, it should have been able to pick up on them so long ago. That it could sit there and pretend like that…
Vile thing.
Vile liar.
Like she would trust something so wicked. Josephine had told her of the king's mannerisms already. He did not like mages, but that hardly made him a witch hunter.
And Cullen…
Cullen was a good man. He wouldn't…
"Finley?"
She nearly fell from her perch as the word broke through the quiet.
Curling in on herself, she dared a glance to her left to find Sera half hanging from one of the branches near her, brow pinched together, eyes gleaming in the darkness.
Relief flood through her, and she shuddered as she slumped against her drawn-up legs, resting her forehead on her knees.
The branch she was on creaked as Sera settled onto it in front of her. When she finally had the strength to lift her head up, Sera was leaning toward her, worried.
"If…" Sera trailed off a moment before pointing down at the camp. "You got someone bothering you, you let me know, yeah?"
Finley took in a few deep breaths before forcing an awkward smile. "Going to steal their breeches?"
"Pft," Sera scoffed softly, frowning. "Deserve more than that for hurting you."
Even as Sera mumbled something about candlewax in their ears, Finley reached up and ran her fingers through her hair. Her pinky caught on a twig caught in her tangles, and she frowned, reaching up to work it loose.
"So?" When she realized Sera was watching her expectantly, Sera rolled her wrist as though to drag information out. "What's got you fleeing camp in the dead of night to cry in old trees?"
As she finally got the twig loose—with a few lonely strands of orange still caught around it that made her scalp sting for an instant—she sighed and dropped it. She opened her mouth to respond, though nothing came at first. Finally, she shook her head. "Bad dream."
"Oh, hate those," Sera offered, relaxing a little as she settled more comfortably on the branch, only to scowl and awkwardly half fall, half swing herself to another when it creaked ominously. When she was safely perched on a nearby branch so that they could still talk, she leaned against the trunk. Then, almost instantly, she perked up. "Best way to get rid of nasty feelings up here," she tapped her head, "is to do something good. Something fun." She drummed her fingers against the branch as she peered down. "Gotta be something we can do. Something that won't hurt nobody, but could cause a laugh or two… We could—"
"Inquisitor?"
That was a familiar tone that normally would have sent a shiver up her spine. However, now, as Finley peered down to see Cullen standing at the edge of camp, peering around—with an occasional look up, though he hadn't spotted them yet—she couldn't help but remember what her demon had said.
He'll always be a hunter.
"Wanna stay quiet 'til he goes away?" Sera asked, frowning down toward the man.
She was a bit surprised how much she wanted to say yes, though instead she shook her head. "They'll…" she didn't like the words that came next, "need to know where I am."
"Piss," Sera muttered. "Point of that is to keep you safe, yeah? I got you up here." She gave Finley a reassuring nod, though she sighed when Finley did. "Alright. Don't tell him I'm here though. Had to sit through a whole speech about proprieties and necessities and all that shite. Didn't listen to half of it, but got the gist. They don't want me near their precious nobles. 'fraid I might ruin something shiny and new."
Even as Finley let out a soft laugh, Sera rolled her eyes and motioned down. "I'll wait 'til you lead him off, then."
Carefully, Finley went down the tree, twisting around to the side furthest from Cullen and slipping quietly to the ground.
As she turned around, she just about had a heart attack when she turned to find Cullen mere feet behind her.
He'll always be a hunter.
"You needed something?" She asked, trying to sound as innocent as she could.
Rather than answer right away, Cullen breached the distance between them and reached out to cup her cheek. "I received word that something was wrong, and when I came to check on you, you were missing." His thumb stroked her skin softly. "You're pale and…" He didn't point out the obvious that she'd been crying.
A million different thoughts raced through her mind, so jumbled that they did little more than leave her feeling sick.
"Cullen, did you ever—" Her voice cut off as she started to ask about what the demon had said about him agreeing with King Cousland.
She was being ridiculous. There was no reason to listen to that monster.
None.
It was just trying to steal one more person from her, like it always did.
Without thinking, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face against his tunic's shoulder. For a breath, he stilled and she thought he would protest about all that damnable professionalism and the like.
Instead, he wrapped his arms around her, fingers in her hair and holding her close as he bowed his head, pressing a soft kiss to her head.
"Things will work out in our favor in Denerim." His voice was calm and confident, though she felt his heart beat a little faster and knew he was making it up as he spoke. "We've done a lot for Ferelden already, so I don't see how anyone can argue against the good we've done."
Despite his reassurances, and his offers of Ser Barris knowing nobles and Josephine being quite good at what she did and the like, Finley's mind couldn't stay focused.
Even as she rested against him, her mind kept going back to what the demon had said.
There were so many questions that came with that, and she wanted to ask them all, to clear the air and know beyond a doubt that Cullen was the man she thought he was, that he was good and kind, as he'd proved to be over and over.
Yet…
Yet asking any of them felt like she was letting the demon influence her, and ridiculous as it was, that scared her more than anything else.
After all, she'd promised herself, hadn't she? Again and again, as her world expanded and fell apart.
She would never fall to a demon's sway.
Never.
Even if she was a demon's daughter.