Why did I wake up two hours early this morning, even after staying awake late arguing about a book? Fuck knows. I am very tired, but I got most of the clothes my daughter still needed for the summer? So...at least it was somewhat productive, I guess.
Reception
The new war room was a little crowded, but silent for all that. In addition to my usual advisors, we needed Solas, Leliana and Cullen wanted Cassandra, and I had insisted on bringing Dorian, Vivienne, and Fiona. We had already dissected everything any of us could remember regarding our encounter with Widris, beginning with the first coded Veilfire message. Leliana had written down the potion the mage had used to - apparently - expand her consciousness, promising to look into it further. Solas had lectured on the theories of the Void he had encountered, for once somber as he imparted information, rather than engaged and excited as he usually became when someone asked about one of the esoteric branches of lore he had, at one time or another, pursued.
Vivienne was, predictably, the first to break the thoughtful silence following the last of the questions lobbed at Solas. "I would appreciate the chance to read through your sources for myself, my dear. Sometimes differing backgrounds will bring differing perspectives on the same explanation."
For once, Solas didn't bristle at what might be an implied slight against his competence. "I would welcome your perspective, Enchanter - Dorian's and Fiona's, as well, should they be willing to help with the research. I will make a list and give it to Helisma, though some of the texts I accessed in the Fade. I don't know if physical copies still exist."
"I will write to some of my old masters - the ones still speaking to me," Dorian put in. "Tevinter's libraries are unrivaled by any in the south. I'm not even certain the archivists remember what they contain. It will do them good to have to hunt through the all the most esoteric sections of the catalog - force them to examine where the ink is beginning to fade - and they might enjoy it, too."
"I will find out which Circle Widris belonged to," Fiona added. "If we can learn which volumes first led her to inquire about the subject, we may gain new leads."
"Though if she gained her knowledge by consorting with demons - " Vivienne began.
"Unlikely," Solas interrupted. "The Void is antithetical to spirits, even those corrupted into demons. At best, she might have been shown memories of books that spoke of the Void - as I have been, occasionally. But such memories usually reside deeper within the Fade than dreamers have the skill to venture, so while she may have learned pieces of her knowledge there - perhaps even key pieces - most of it likely came from her studies in the waking world."
"What I would like to know," Cullen said into the thoughtful pause that followed, "is what we can do to prevent mages from pursuing such a path in the future, or, barring that, how we can oppose them without having to rely on the Anchor and opening Fade rifts." He nodded in my direction. "No offense intended, Inquisitor, but you are only one woman and may not always be available in a timely manner."
"And one day won't be available at all, as I am unlikely to live for the rest of eternity," I agreed dryly. Behind Cullen, Solas flinched, and I remembered that the Anchor wasn't doing me any favors in the arena of mortality.
"Solas, would templar abilities work against the power drawn by the Void?" Cassandra asked.
"They would work against elemental spells as well as they ever do - these are differentiated only by power, not by kind," Solas replied. "But expressions of the Void itself? No. Templars draw their abilities from lyrium, which is...let us call it close kin to the creative power of the Fade. If anything, they would be more susceptible to the effects of the Void."
"That is disheartening," Cullen sighed.
"We are overlooking one obvious point," Leliana said. "The power of the Void is not as readily accessible as a power like blood magic, and its results are, if anything, even more horrific. How likely is an epidemic of mages pursuing such a path to power, when there exist those that are both closer at hand and less corrupting?"
"A fair point," Cullen allowed, "but can we afford even one ?"
"One point I feel I ought to clarify," Solas said. "Reaching for the Void is not a capability of born mages only , though because of the structure of Circles they may have better access to information, and can, of course, search the Fade for references if they are inclined to learn how. But the ability is inherent within every people but elves. Even dwarves, I believe, could access the Fade through manipulation of the Void."
There was another long moment of silence.
"Wonderful," Cullen sighed.
"Cheer up, Commander - no one has managed to erase the world with a flood of Void energy so far," Leliana told him blithely, and I couldn't tell whether it was bravado or an honest lack of concern.
"I fear I have few strategies to offer," Solas told them, "so let us hope this research bears fruit. Perhaps lyrium in its raw form might provide a bulwark against the encroachment of the Void, but it isn't something I would stake my own life or any others upon."
We adjourned on that rather somber note.
"Inquisitor." Vivienne's voice stopped me, and I watched as Leliana busied herself examining the various counters currently placed on the map-covered table. Josephine, I noticed, also stopped suspiciously near the door, though I couldn't make out what she was doing. "I have noted with interest for some time the lingering looks exchanged by you and our self-declared Fade expert," she said, "and now I understand you are owed congratulations on making your relationship official."
"You aren't about to try to talk me out of pursuing this, are you?" I asked, probably rather too bluntly - but I was a busy woman with places to be and I didn't have time to play the Orlesian court's Grand fucking Game in my own Creators-damned fortress with members of my own inner circle.
"Oh no, my dear, of course not," Vivienne said smoothly, but with a gleam in her eye that told me I had, indeed, made some kind of political misstep. At least in her opinion. "Those with power must seek congenial companionship wherever they can find it. No matter how humble the source of comfort may be." I waited, knowing there was more, but amused by Vivienne's impression of Solas. Apparently she wasn't aware that his name literally meant pride , and hadn't noticed he was, at best, only slightly more humble than she was. "I only wished to be informed when you had arranged a strategy for dealing with the court in Orlais - which will not look kindly on such a liaison - and wished to offer my sartorial services should they be necessary. A superb wardrobe, after all, covers a multitude of sins."
"Oh," I said, a little surprised. " Ma serannas . I'm sure Josephine will keep you informed regarding her plans for both presenting my romantic attachment and arranging my wardrobe. I freely admit I have no particular taste of my own."
"Well, I hope not in public , my dear," Vivienne admonished me with a smile to take any sting out of the words. "It relieves my mind to know that our dear ambassador is already considering how best to handle matters, and that you mean to let her. I won't take any more of your time now - we all know how busy you are." And with that she glided gracefully away.
"That," I said to no one in particular, but loudly enough that both Leliana and Josephine would hear, "went rather better than I expected."
Leliana laughed. "You had best leave handling Vivienne to me and to Josephine for the present, until we can give you some lessons in the Game."
"The Inquisitor isn't wrong," Josephine said. "I only counted ten barbs, and I'm sure half of them were simply to see how she would react."
"Eleven," Leliana replied. "You missed the one directed at us."
Josephine paused to think. "Ah yes - about our inability to properly dress the Inquisitor."
"Is that what she was saying?" I asked.
"Certainly," Leliana assured me. "You did well, though, not to rise to the bait of her insult against Solas. Your subtle amusement was an appropriate response." She looked thoughtful. "You seem to have reasonably good instincts, we must simply train you to carefully parse the words said, and to guard your own counsel."
"I won't lie: that sounds awful," I replied.
"You need not be an adept player of the Game - a little directness will reassure the Orlesian court that you aren't attempting to gain additional political power," Josephine told me. "There is something reassuring in a military commander subtle enough to read the currents, wise enough not to fight the strongest, and simultaneously too decisive and action-oriented to engage with every last vagary of opinion."
"Perhaps that is so," Leliana said slowly.
"It is certainly so," Josephine retorted. "We must refine, not fundamentally alter."
I left them to discuss a plan for my refinement, and stole away to my chamber.
As Josephine had promised, the bed was already there - she must have had several crafted beforehand, ready to be put together. I had chosen a style in which the edge of the wood was stripped of bark but otherwise left in its natural shape, however uneven. It reminded me of Dalish craftsmanship, working with the shape of the wood rather than trying to force it into a particular configuration envisioned by the craftsman. The wood had already been finished with oil, and I opted for a final coat of wax rather than a shellac, though I had agreed to the stronger shellac finish for the room's tables and top of my desk. The rugs had also been placed, patterned predominantly in blue, green, and yellow - restful yet cheerful. The rest of the furniture was still being completed.
I sat on the bed, which had been made up with linens though it still lacked a counterpane, and pulled out the letter from Deshanna that I still hadn't had the time, privacy, or will to read. Then I took a deep breath and broke the seal.
It began: Da'lath'in .
Little heart.
Her grief at losing me was written into every word, and yet she didn't try to lure me back to the clan. Nor did she warn me away from either the Inquisition or my maturing friendships, which I might have resented even more. It wasn't a perfect letter - she laid on a little guilt for the way I had left, as though I had been given any other choice - but it was so much better than I had feared, and it finally began to put to rest the specter I had faced alone on a snowy mountainside.
I had no proper desk yet, but simply letting a servant know I wanted to write a letter procured me a lapdesk, pen, ink, and paper, and I composed my late reply with a little more openness than I had offered in my previous letter. I related the fact of my jaunt into the future, as well as some of what it entailed, like the fallen Veil and my ability to see, while leaving out the parts that the Inquisition was attempting to act on. I told her about the fall of Haven and my unexpected survival, as well as how conflicted I felt over being treated as a hero. I told her about becoming Inquisitor.
I told her more about Solas.
Not everything. If anyone else knew of our bond, it might make him a particular target for violence, but I said enough for Maela to read between the lines and understand how much I cared for him.
I sketched, in words, each member of my inner circle, knowing she would be curious about them, lingering longest on Dorian and Cole for differing reasons. Cole's mere existence was a curiosity I knew she would take interest in, while Dorian was perhaps the closest friend I had ever had.
I imagine we're a strange pair, I wrote, the Dalish elf and the Tevinter altus. Solas was surprised by our friendship at first, though he seems at worst uninterested by it now. I think he's more put off by the fact that I like Sera when they're so mutually antagonistic. But the only one of my inner circle I'm not entirely certain of is Court Enchanter Vivienne of Montsimmard, who insists on playing the Orlesian Grand Game at me and makes me equal parts wary and weary.
It was a long letter.
By the time I had finished and given it to one of Leliana's people to send (and probably snoop through), Varric was looking for me to let me know that his friend would arrive in the next day or two. "So no running off to any swamps this time," he admonished me with a smile. "I'm counting on you to keep Cassandra from murdering me."
"It was a bog, and wouldn't it be better for you if I took Cassandra with me and ran off somewhere?"
"Would it improve her temper any?" he muttered.
"If it were like last time? No," I told him decisively.
"Yeah, I heard about the Void magic, or whatever you're calling it. Creepy shit, Vanish. Have I thanked you recently for leaving me behind on that one?"
"Wouldn't you have preferred to see it firsthand?" I asked. "You're a writer."
"I also work hard at not being an idiot. No thanks, I'm perfectly happy with accounts from the people who were there," he replied.
"Do we have an hourly total of Dorian's hair complaints?" I was ready to cease talking about Widris for a few days.
"Well, Tiny, Buttercup, and Hero all came up with different totals - Tiny's conveniently makes him the winner, and I'm sure Buttercup's would do the same for her if she were better at math - and I'm guessing you didn't see much, so I'm not sure what to do here."
"Average them together," I suggested. "I already know I lost. Besides, they might not be lying much - it's not as though they were all around Dorian at the same time all the time."
"I had thought of that," he informed me, "it just didn't seem - well, shit, why not? It's just one bet, and most of them made it just to piss Sparkler off. Interesting courtship tactic on Tiny's part, but who am I to argue with what works?"
"You heard about that, did you? Don't let Dorian hear you call it 'courtship,' he swears it was just one time," I told the dwarf.
"Does he? You want to bet on how many times it will be 'just one time'?" Varric asked conspiratorially.
I thought about it. "How many times until they break things off, or how many times until they admit they're together?" I asked in return.
"That's an entirely separate bet, Vanish," the dwarf informed me.
"I'm not sure I should - I think my glee at seeing them together may color my perspective on which outcome it ought to be," I admitted.
He laughed. "No, you have to decide how to use that. Some of us bet on the outcomes we want, and some of us - like Sparkler - bet against them as a way of salvaging something either way," he told me. "You just have to decide which kind of gambler you are. It's a good thing to know about yourself anyway."
I spent a moment reflecting on that, but I wasn't certain what, exactly, it was supposed to tell me about myself. "I'm not sure which I am," I said with a shrug. "You know, Varric, sometimes I can't tell whether your life lessons are genuinely valuable or worthless to the point of absurdity."
He smiled. "That all depends on your perspective. You should come along to Wicked Grace some night. Do you think you could use that Fade-shift thing on single cards? Because that could come in handy."
"Only if the individual cards decide to develop magical auras," I answered.
"Well, that is difficult - but you should come anyway, for the company, if nothing else."
"I'll...think about it," I promised, already thinking that I was terrible at the card games I had tried with little room to improve - hard to read faces I couldn't see.
"You'll get bored enough some night to do it," he informed me.
"Do you have money on that?" I wondered, beginning to understand how this went.
He just smiled and wandered away.