Ugh, I have just realized I have to seriously edit the next chapter, because even though the sexual content doesn't take up even half of the whole thing, it's pretty explicit.

Perspective

It was too much - horror piled on horror. I gagged again, and my stomach heaved.

Solas was instantly at my side. "Not yet," he told me urgently. "Ir abelas, vhenan - not yet. She attempted to unmake the others. It may already be too late, but it certainly will be if we don't act now."

I managed to swallow. "Can we reach the rift?" I asked.

"Without the wards, yes - I believe so. The Fade leaking through is already countering the Void, but too slowly," he answered.

"Demons…?" I asked. They had been ripped to shreds while Widris drew on the Void, but I wasn't certain whether that had to do with the Void in this place or whether it had been something Widris was actively working to accomplish.

"There will be no demons," Solas promised.

His hand closed around mine, and he all but dragged me through the area once corralled by wards, to the center of the gap. By then I could hear the voices of my friends, crying out in pain and alarm, and so I didn't even wait for Solas to prod me. I ripped the rift open.

Normal, meaning-laden reality poured from it, steadying both my head and my stomach and transforming the space around us into a stinking, fetid, beautiful bog. Rain I hadn't even realized was missing poured down. The choking haze disappeared. I raised my face to the pouring water and laughed for the sheer joy of existence. The change was absolutely exhilarating, and for a long, timeless moment, I was giddy with it.

"I judge that enough," Solas said at last, both pleased and satisfied, though apparently not as swept away by the return of existence as I was. "Close the rift."

A part of me didn't want to, but, dimly, I was also aware that I really didn't want to fight demons just now, so I raised the Anchor and disrupted the energies holding open the tear, allowing the Veil to flow closed around it.

"The others," I said, remembering why I had been in such a hurry to open the rift. "Fenedhis, the others."

I took off down the hill - hill? when had that happened? - towards them, stumbling over the uneven ground in my haste, until Solas caught up with me and put a steadying hand under my arm.

Dorian was nearest, on hands and knees in the mud, Bull crouched next to him. When I dropped down on his other side, he was grinning like a fool and, as far as my magic could determine, unharmed. Beyond him, I could see auras for Sera and Blackwall, both of which seemed to be recovering much as Dorian's was. Cassandra was with them and appeared unharmed, as did Bull.

"Bull?" I asked anyway.

"I don't know, Boss - he was fading away into that grit that was hanging in the air - until he wasn't."

"She tried to erase me, I think," Dorian said, "but…" He let out a small, breathless laugh. "Here I am." His fingers flexed in the mud, and then he sat up with a groan. "I've never been so grateful for dirt - for everything, really - in all my life."

I looked around and realized Solas had gone on.

"I can't believe someone came up with a place that makes Fade crap look good by comparison," Bull grumbled. "Good argument for no gods, if you ask me."

"You can't claim someone came up with a natural phenomenon, and then claim it proves the absence of a god, you great ox," Dorian told him, exasperated but also laughing in a way I might have termed fond . "That makes no sense at all."

"Sure it does," Bull argued back, his voice betraying how pleased he was by this pointless debate - perhaps because we were alive and well enough to have a pointless debate. "If there were gods, one of 'em woulda stopped whoever the asshole was who thought up the Void, right?"

"I don't think anyone came up with the Void," I said, taking Dorian's side. "I think it might just be part of our reality."

"It is, and arguably a necessary one, in its place," Solas said as he rejoined us. "Sera and Blackwall are shaken, but otherwise well," he reported. "I believe I will spare the rest of you the task of searching the mage's camp."

"Solas." I scrambled to my feet. "Are you sure you don't want someone to go with you? You're taking this very calmly, but - how, exactly, are you taking this so calmly?"

For the barest moment there was something dark and terrifying in both his smile and in our bond - but he reined it in swiftly. "There is no time, now, to do otherwise." He brought his hand up, his fingers brushing my face. "You did very well, vhenan. You saved us all."

My mouth fell open. I saved us all? I had? I hadn't even known what was happening! "I did no such thing. You - "

"Offered lore and some direction," he interrupted. "The credit for acting is yours."

That was utter halla shit, but he walked away before I could scrape together sufficient wit to tell him so.

The worst of it was, he wasn't lying. He really believed it.

We all could have used a chance to catch our breaths, but no one wanted to stay there a moment longer than necessary. No one, in fact, was especially keen on remaining within the bounds of the Fallow Mire a moment longer than necessary by that point. We made a silent procession back to where Cole waited anxiously, aware we had ended the threat posed by the Void called into the waking world, but uncertain whether any of us were injured. He seemed to know without being told what had happened - or nearly happened - to Dorian, Sera, and Blackwall once we returned, and flitted about them as though reassuring both them and himself that they were alive and well. Dorian seemed to appreciate the concern, though he hid it, as usual, under flippant humor, but Sera and Blackwall were also more tolerant than was typical for them. Sera even forgot to refer to Cole as "it" once or twice.

Other than Cole's murmurs and solicitous inquiries, the trek back to our camp was also accomplished largely without conversation. Even though I was walking with Solas, Cassandra following behind, I could practically hear the list of questions she was creating in her mind, and I assumed Bull was doing something similar. Sera and Blackwall seemed to be staying close to each other, apparently taking some comfort in physical proximity to someone else with whom they had shared the experience. Dorian was simply silent in between his gracious answers to Cole's inquiries - I couldn't even begin to guess what he was thinking.

The silence lasted through arranging our gear upon our return, washing up as well as we could, and making a dinner everyone did little more than pick at. "Solas," Cassandra said at last, putting aside her bowl, "what is the Void?"

He laughed breathlessly. "A very large question," he said, and then paused. "Perhaps it would be best to think of it this way: for anything new to be created, something else must give way - must cease to be. The Fade is the site of creation, and the Void the site of destruction. Neither is inherently good or evil, they merely fulfill opposite but complementary functions, giving rise to the world as we know it. However, this complementary-opposites relationship does create a gap in which the mad or entirely unscrupulous may operate. As the Void destroys, the Fade rushes in to fill the space left behind. Thus, some people - not everyone, but that is a separate matter - can hold a piece of the Void within, and draw on Fade energies far beyond what they could normally hope to reach for. Theoretically, anyway - I have never seen it done before today, only heard garbled accounts."

That actually seemed to be the truth.

"How?" Cassandra demanded. "How is this done? How can it be stopped?"

"I have seen the result precisely once, Seeker," Solas replied. "What do you expect me to be able to say?"

She heaved an audible sigh. "Less expectation than hope. I apologize, Solas."

He hesitated a moment. "I will offer a bit of speculation which I believe more likely, after witnessing the day's events, than I did previously. Elves cannot grasp the Void in the way Widris did. We possess too much affinity for the Fade. But the strength and wildness I have heard attributed to the Qunari Saarebas leads me to believe that their connection to the Fade is entirely unnatural - accomplished by manifesting some sliver of the Void, which also explains why they seem to come into their power at random, at any point in life, and without the slow progression normal among mage-born children of other races."

"Yeah," Bull said slowly. "I knew there was something familiar about the way she used her magic. It did feel like a Saarebas - or more like that than any human mage I've ever met, anyway." He was briefly silent. "If we're right, there's a good reason to leash Saarebas."

"There is not," Solas retorted sharply. "Your people may have an affinity for the Void, yes, just as elves have an affinity for the Fade. But taking in power of either origin is not a purely involuntary matter. If your people were properly trained, Saarebas would not exist - at least not without conscious effort. No one would accidentally grasp a piece of the Void in some moment of distress, because they would have been taught how to avoid doing so. It is the Qunari discomfort with seeing - descending sometimes into an outright refusal to see - below the surface of the world that leads to the necessity of abuse."

"Solas," Bull said soberly, and I heard ma vhenan take a deep breath, "I'll soften the phrasing, but this is an idea I'm going to pass on. Things rarely change quickly under the Qun, but understanding brings the possibility of reform - that's one reason to pursue it. I can promise it won't be dismissed out of hand."

Frustration pulsed through the shivas'lath, but Solas managed not to say whatever he was thinking - and Cassandra distracted him with another question. I was distracted, meanwhile, by Sera rising and leaving the stone passage where we habitually built our evening fires. I wasn't sitting very far from her, so I got up and followed.

When I stopped next to her, she was staring up at the dripping sky, grinning. She spoke without looking at me. "This is all frigging...piss-drinking shite. You know that, right?" Her voice dropped to a mutter. "Not sure I'm ever sleeping again."

I thought about Widris and leaned against Sera, slipping my arm around her waist. "I do know that, yes. That ranked with Haven as one of my worst moments to date." I took a breath. "On the bright side, unlike the Fade, the Void doesn't seem to have anything to do with sleep so…I think you're safe to do that."

She shuddered and draped an arm across my shoulders. "Guess that's true. Coulda gone my whole life without knowing the Void actually friggin' exists, though - and that it's like... that."

"Good thing we're elves and 'possess too much affinity for the Fade' to summon the Void, hmm?" I teased her, knowing that, under normal circumstances, she would hate being told she had anything to do with the Fade, or being reminded she was an elf.

She let out a surprised laugh. "Shut it, you."

"I can see why you take comfort in not being a mage," I told her. "I confess I find it comforting to think that, no matter how badly my life goes, I can't possibly end up like Widris."

"Pretty sure you don't end up there unless you're cracked from the start," Sera replied, and I could hear the eye roll in her voice. "Even the frigging magister wasn't that daft, right?"

"True," I allowed with a little smirk. "Willing to unravel the world with time magic, but not willing to sacrifice whatever remained of his sanity - not to mention his eyes - to the Void. Everyone has limits, I suppose."

"Eugh, the eyes. You didn't have to remind me!" Sera protested, reaching over with her free hand to poke me in the ribs, perhaps forgetting that my arm was around her waist and in perfect position for digging my fingers into her ribs.

Solas emerged while we were still tussling and laughing together, both of us finding some outlet for the tension of the day we had endured. His mixed feelings alerted me to his presence - though he hastily smothered the less flattering ones, including jealousy.

"Oh look, it's old Elven Glory himself," Sera sighed with a pointed lack of enthusiasm as he joined us. I made a face at her. "I'm just saying - you could do better," she told me, covering my face with her hand and shoving it away playfully.

"Well," Solas said to me, offering me his arm, "she isn't wrong."

"Shut it," she told Solas without any particular heat. "Didn't ask for your opinion, did I?"

"Certainly," he agreed. "It is, after all, only my affair. I can see why my opinion might both go unsolicited and be unwanted if offered."

"Stop it," I told them both. "You don't have to like each other , but you do have to accept that I like you both. Otherwise," I added insincerely, "you might mysteriously find yourselves with postings you're not fond of. Anyone think it might be worthwhile to establish a permanent camp in the mire?"

"Now that's just playing dirty," Sera protested as Solas chuckled darkly.

"Well, you know me - the kind of power-mad tyrant who asks her friends to keep the mutual sniping to no worse than cordial distaste in her presence. Should probably just ship me off to Tevinter - I would fit right in with the magisterium. Ignoring the ears, of course."

"All right, fine," Sera huffed. "Bet I'm way better at being polite than he is anyways."

"Take it up with Varric," I called back over my shoulder as Solas tugged me away. He had been somewhat amused by the byplay, but was losing patience and wanted to be alone. "I'm sure he can work out some odds for you."

We hadn't managed half a dozen steps before I heard Dorian's voice behind me: "Did I hear something about odds and bets ? Are we wagering on something? Don't keep me in suspense!"