**Edit 12/14/2015 I went back through this chapter and changed only a few things. Chapter 4 coming soon!**
And I miss you, like the deserts miss the rain.
~Missing, Everything but the Girl
Luckily, Cullen trained his guards very well. Within three minutes, they had surrounded the crowd, protecting the angry elf from the mob.
"Take him to the dungeons, at once!" Cullen's baritone boomed through the hall. "Clear the room!" he added, and the guards began to shuffle the excited visitors out. Starling saw Cullen whisper something to the guard in charge of escorting their new prisoner. The furious elf had quieted, and his shouts were replaced by a broody stare. He no longer struggled as the armored troupe lead him quickly out a door to the dungeons. The Inquisition guard ran like clockwork, and Starling was very impressed.
"Are you alright, Lavellan?" Cullen asked, his hand lightly grazing her arm.
"Of course," she responded. "He was hardly given a chance. Your people are well-trained. I have no worries of them going soft during peace-time," she added. The power of their military concerned her, but she was grateful for their precision on this day. Starling felt her veins course with heat, and she scarcely noticed both Josephine and Leliana appear by her side, flanked by scouts and more guards. She did, however, hone in on another sight; Varric stood facing a wall, speaking in hushed tones to someone whom Starling could not identify. He glanced over his shoulder and caught Starling's eye, giving her an almost imperceptible nod. The small figure's back was pressed against the wall. The face was covered by a cowl, though the frantic hand gestures divulged a very animated conversation. An Inquisition guard approached the two in an attempt to escort them both from the hall, but Starling had other ideas.
"Cullen, get Varric and whoever he's with," she said. "Have them meet me in the west wing solar." Cullen said something in the affirmative, and left her side to instruct his guards. Leliana spoke next.
"I am very sorry, Inquisitor," she said. "I am not sure how this could have happened. He must have slipped by my people." A thin line creased Leliana's forehead; the only sign of her distress. It dwelled briefly there, despite the bardic-trained porcelain mask she normally wore.
"This looks... very bad," Josephine chimed in a voice that spoke sterner to Leliana than Starling had ever heard. "People will talk. The rumors of an assassination attempt on The Herald of Andraste could be devastating to our cause." What cause? Starling thought. She had grown weary of politics and the Inquisition's image.
"I'm sure you will find a way to spin it for us," Starling replied, slightly more curt than she intended. She locked eyes with Josephine. "You always do." Starling could feel her lips press to a thin line, though she was secretly delighted by this new series of events. Of course it would take an attempt on her life to finally excite her again. To feel something other than... No, Starling. Wake up. Luckily, Josephine's voice helped pull her from her reverie.
"He was speaking in Tevinter," she was saying. Her soft eyes flashed with excitement. Apparently, Starling wasn't the only one bored with the peace. She missed watching Josephine work. The Antivan woman was a force to be reckoned with in the political sphere, and Starling could almost see the wheels in her brain spinning. "We could spread a small rumor that the Tevinter Mages are still trying to pull apart The Inquisition..." Leliana nodded, while Starling put up a hand and gently placed it on Josephine's wrist. She nearly laughed.
"It is a good plan, my friend," Starling began. "But let us see what this elf actually wants. I think we might have some answers very soon." She looked over at Varric, and Leliana followed her gaze. The guards were escorting him and the cloaked figure out a side door. Josephine nodded.
"We will be able to hold off rumors for a few days, but we must have a plan very soon, Inquisitor," Josephine said, a slight edge on her voice. She hated being stifled, and waiting vexed her. Starling sympathized.
"Give me one day," Starling replied, and she squeezed Josephine's hand gently. The woman nodded in response, and left with her escorts.
"Are you ready?" Starling said to Leliana, whose practiced eyes scanned the nearly empty room. Leliana looked at Starling, and a small smirk appeared on her lips.
"You are enjoying this," the red haired woman remarked. Starling raised her eyebrows in response and smirked back.
"As are you, lethallan," Starling replied. Leliana's expression shifted to a true smile before she replaced it with her bardic mask. Leliana never played Wicked Grace with her friends, and in this moment, Starling was reminded why.
"Let us go see what our dwarven friend is hiding from us this time," the spy-master said. The two of them set off to see Varric and his mystery visitor.
There were two guards posted outside the solar. Through the thick wooden door, Starling could hear the muffled speech of a woman's voice, frantic and quick. She paused to listen.
"This wasn't the plan! This wasn't the plan at all! Oh Creators, Varric! What are we going to do? Vir'a halam! (He is finished!) He is such an idiot! I told him time and again he needed to control himself. We came all the way here-" She heard Varric's voice cut her off.
"Now, now, Daisy, just calm down." He sounded soothing, but Starling could hear strain undercutting his tone. "We will think of something. The Inquisitor is not a bloodthirsty tyrant. She will hear what you have to s-" At that point, Leliana gave a nod. The two guards opened the door and The Inquisitor and the Spymaster stepped inside.
"Indeed, I am very curious as to why a man would try to kill me in broad daylight in the presence of a fully trained guard and a crowd full of witnesses," Starling said as she entered the room, wasting no time. She surveyed the scene.
There were two guards standing on the inside of the solar. Leliana waved them away and moved to stand by the door, her face unreadable. Starling took a breath. It had been some time since she visited this room. It was a place of memory; smelling of fresh paint, plaster, and the smell of Solas; earth and rifts. It was the last place he touched, and his frescoes still decorated the walls. Varric, who let out a soft grunt upon Starling's arrival, stood next to a table. He poured himself what Starling assumed was a second drink from some refreshments a servant supplied. Nissa knows me so well, Starling thought, noting the choice of heavy wines, spirits, and a variety of cheeses with the food selection. Varric himself looked worse for wear. While the summer afternoons were hot, the breezy arid climate of Skyhold's halls brought some relief. Her dwarven friend appeared to be extremely uncomfortable. His normally worn but cared for clothing was stained with sweat, and his frizzed hair gave him a haggard look, as if he had run his hand through it too many times out of stress. His brown eyes, usually soft and relaxed, were widened, as if he had seen a ghost. Starling had only seen this look on him twice. Once, upon the abrupt return and departure of his love, the real Bianca, and the other on the death of Hawke. Shaking Varric was no easy task, and these two people had accomplished it in the span of half an hour.
Starling then brought her attention to their guest. The elven woman was small, even smaller than Starling. The cowl had been pulled back, revealing short hair the color of walnut bark, with a pointed chin and pronounced cheekbones that were enhanced by the curving scrollwork of Vallaslin. The work was unfamiliar, though the style was always different between clans. If Starling had to guess, she would say Dirthamen. Keeper of Secrets. They are slave markings. The voice of Solas burst through her thoughts. Starling buried him away. The woman's eyes, large and green as a forest after rain, fixed themselves on Starling. Though they were wide with surprise, they were softer than her rabid elven friend's. Her skin, like most elves, was ageless, though Starling guessed she was slightly older, despite her child-like face. She had been pacing the room as Starling entered. Upon hearing the door, she turned to face the intruders; remaining perfectly still with Keeper-trained grace. Starling could smell the magic on her. The scent of leaved-trees and vanilla that was so similar to Keeper Deshanna; a scent that Starling had nearly forgotten. Both dwarf and elf paused their speech long enough for Starling to remember her manners. She spoke again.
"An'daran atish'an," she said to the elven woman, offering her a traditional greeting. Varric still said nothing and tossed back his drink. Upon hearing the Elvish, smaller woman seemed to come to her senses.
"An'daran atish'an, falon," was the woman's response. "I heard you renounced our ways. It surprises me to hear you speak the tongue of the people," she continued, bluntly, but not wholly unkindly. Starling almost smiled. She immediately liked this woman, for any stranger who spoke their mind was a refreshing change of pace.
"Then we are all very surprised today," Starling continued, "I, by attempted murder, and you, by my extreme politeness," she looked to Varric after she spoke. The woman said nothing in response, though her mouth hung partially open at the Inquisitor's sarcastic tone. "Varric, perhaps you have something to be surprised about as well?" she added. Her friend did not answer her question.
"Inquisitor Lavellan," he said, his formal tone slightly mocking as his large hands wrapped themselves around a decanter. He poured himself a third drink. The brown liquid swirled in the crystal glass. "These are not the ideal circumstances in which I wanted you two to meet, but when the hell do we get those? May I introduce you to a dear friend of mine: Merrill." The elf named Merrill bowed her head briefly in greeting. Starling could not hide her shock. Merrill.
"You are Merrill, of the Sabrae clan," Starling said, incredulous. "The very elf from Varric's tales of Kirkwall! Your name and reputation precede you here, falon." Starling said, hoping that her tone remained appropriately neutral. Merrill. The one who had eluded Leliana's grasp. She was an elven mage, and, if Varric's stories were true, she possessed a depth of knowledge that far surpassed most experts. Leliana could not hold her tongue.
"Varric, I will assume you were protecting this mage from my inquiries as well," she said. Her face maintained its porcelain facade, but the slight edge in her voice revealed irritation. Varric's brown eyes met Leliana's blues and his upper lip curled, giving him a look of exasperation.
"Did you really think I'd give you another one of my friends after what happened to the last one?" Varric spat, his own voice holding a rare spark of anger. Starling felt a pang in her chest as her heart reminded her of the guilt of loss. Starling caught Leliana's gaze.
"Now is not the time for blame," the Inquisitor interjected, her voice firm. "What's done is done, though we can hardly hold Varric responsible for wanting to protect his friend," she added. Leliana defiantly folded her arms over her chest, but said nothing more. Merrill's look seemed to soften to the Inquisitor. "Now, will someone tell me what in the Creators' names is going on here?" Starling said, her gaze shifting from Merrill to Varric and then back again. Varric downed the remainder of his drink, and Merrill spoke.
"Well, let's see," she began. Her voice, pitched high; the cadence, strange. "It must have been... Oh, a year ago, perhaps, when Varric sent the letter. We all got one. I got one, Isabella was supposed to get one but who knows where she is nowadays, Aveline got one, Carver got one, Varric said he even tried to contact Anders... and, of course, Fenris... He was away but, he got one too." Merrill frowned, and her green eyes went lifeless for a moment. Fenris, Starling realized, trying to think back to Varric's stories about his friend. Hawke's husband; a tall, white haired Tevinter-raised elf. Starling rubbed her forehead, immediately feeling stupid. It was no wonder he wanted to kill The Inquisitor; the one responsible for losing his wife. Merrill continued, "Well, it was a sad time in Kirkwall, to be honest. I gave her the rites best I could, so we could say … goodbye, in our way, but... But … her body..." Merrill trembled for a moment and blinked back some tears. She cleared her throat and looked up at Starling. "I didn't have it. So, when Fenris came back, he begged me. We were barely civil to each other, even when Hawke was around, but he begged me to fix it. I didn't... I didn't know what to tell him," Merrill said, her voice breaking softly. Varric stood and poured himself another drink, then he crossed the room and placed a wide hand on Merrill's dainty one.
"Just tell her, Daisy," Varric whispered. His voice was so quiet Starling had to strain to hear.
"I can bring her back," Merrill blurted, quickly and without affect. "I know I can bring her back. That is why we came here. Though Fenris, that stupid man, had to muck it up for us! Fen'Harel take him!" Merrill added the curse at the end, narrowing her dewy eyes and wrinkling a petite nose. Her kind and childlike face had morphed to fury in an instant, and Starling felt the subtle change in the pressure of the air as Merrill's power swelled. Starling looked to Leliana, who could not hide her surprise. Starling began to consider the elf's suggestion. To bring Hawke back. To save her... It was...
"This is insane!" Starling said aloud, letting her thoughts exit her mouth before tempering them. "How can you... Could it even be..." Starling immediately thought of the times she had visited the Fade in her physical form. The first was the time Corypheus had opened a Rift and forced her in. The second was the time when Flemeth... Mythal... Morrigan's mother... guided her through with... "An Eluvian," Starling whispered aloud. She locked eyes with Merrill, who stared back at her earnestly. "You have an Eluvian," she realized. Her indigo-green eyes widened in fear and surprise. "You know how it works? You can take us into The Fade?" Starling took a step toward Merrill. Her brain moved the thoughts quickly and the magic in her body sang at the idea of the power of such a spell. Merrill nodded in response.
"I know I can," she said, and her child-like voice spoke with confidence. Varric downed the fourth drink and collapsed into an overstuffed chair, placing his head in his hands.
"Then why come here?" Leliana interjected again, eyeing Merrill with distrust. Merrill opened her mouth to speak but was Starling's turn to interrupt, the thoughts flooding her mind.
"Because of the spell! She needs me... Or she needs someone who was there..." Starling began to pace the room, mulling over the possibilities. An Eluvian! If we can go into the Fade and rescue Hawke, we could find Solas! Starling nearly hung her head in shame at that notion, chastising herself for thinking so selfishly. Still, the possibility remained. An Eluvian! Merrill was speaking when Starling came back from her thoughts, explaining the magic to Leliana.
"Yes! This spell is like... well, think of a spell like a ship. It needs a captain, that's me! It needs the power, that's magic, of course. It needs a sail; something to catch the power; that is the Eluvian. It needs a rudder, a direction; somewhere to go! That's you, Inquisitor Lavellan, as you were steering her when she was … was lost, and.. you are a powerful mage in your own right. And, finally, it needs..."
"An Anchor," Starling filled in for her. "Fenris," she added, her voice low. A being to tie Hawke to this world. A port in the storm. The one she loves.
"It's all quite romantic, really," Merrill cooed, looking very proud of herself. Her eyes dried as she spoke of her craft. Varric rubbed his own eyes, and Starling noticed they had reddened. The concept was simple. Old magic. Starling knew such a spell would be anything but.
"It is dangerous," Starling said, continuing her train of thought. She turned her back to them and took a few steps toward the final unfinished fresco. She could never understand it. A large wolf, a sword, and a doorway. She traced her fingers along the curved edge of the doorway. Or perhaps these are the wings of a dragon, she thought as her fingers pressed against the cold was still unsure. She wished Solas were here, not only for his comfort, but to lend his expertise. He was the most talented and knowledgeable mage she knew. Even Morrigan would be an excellent adviser, but she was gone as well, along with her Eluvian. She heard soft footsteps behind her, and sensed the magic of Merrill's approach. The elven mage tilted her pointed chin up to look at the fresco.
"Yes," she said, her green eyes studying the soft lines that Starling grazed with thin fingers. "It will be dangerous," Merrill affirmed, and then turned to look up at the Inquisitor. Starling exchanged glances with Leliana before Leliana's eyes fell on Varric, who had stood up as well. His hand gripped the arm of the chair, as if he needed the support to stand. It only took one look into Varric's pleading eyes for Starling to know her answer. She would help, but she needed more.
"This doesn't explain why your friend attacked me today," Starling said, her mind instantly returning to the frustration at hand. Merrill and Varric both shook their heads in unison.
"I... I cannot say," Merrill said. "We came here to ask for your help, but the moment we entered the hall, he got so angry..."
"Fenris's broodiness is only outmatched by his desire to go all glowy and rip out his enemies' hearts. I suppose it's good to see this hasn't changed," Varric chimed in. "Women somehow find this attractive," he added, his voice dripping with incredulity. Starling sighed and looked at Leliana. The spy-master's face was unreadable. Starling moved her gaze back to Varric.
"Varric, you have been such a good friend to me. There is no way I could turn my back on you now. I want to help..." She heard a small squeaking sound escape Merrill's lips, as her forest colored eyes ballooned with excitement. "However, this impulsive attack by Hawke's husband must be dealt with." Starling rubbed her forehead as she spoke, a habit she had picked up when the soft freckled skin had been pocked with frostbite after the destruction of Haven. "I must speak with him directly," Starling decided aloud. She looked to Leliana, "We should go to the dungeons..." Starling said, but Merrill held up a hand to cut her off.
"Ir abelas, Inquisitor," she said, her voice soft. "Perhaps, well... Fenris was a slave, and... speaking to him through bars might not be the best way to … get him to … talk. I'm not just saying this to get him out of a cell..." The small elf began to fidget and wring her hands. "I just mean, he might listen better, from outside of a cage … He's, grumpy, broody, and his stubbornness vexes me more than anything … but … he's not a terrible person, and … he abhors bondage above all things..." As the elf spoke, the speed of her speech increased. Starling could feel the skin on her forehead wrinkle as she stared at Merrill, curious. "Not like the fun kind of bondage, of course, but the other kind … Oh! Never mind! I am just making this worse. I'll stop talking now." Starling could not hide her smirk, and even Varric had a small smile to offer the rambling mage.
"Mas serannas, Merrill," Starling said. "I will take this advice under consideration. For now, you are a guest. Varric, please show Merrill around and get her settled, but do not leave the Keep." Varric nodded, pouring himself another drink. Starling left the room with Leliana close behind. After the guards shut the door behind them, Starling turned to the woman. "I need to speak with our prisoner," Starling said in a low voice. "Can you send for him?" Starling asked, as Leliana studied her with passive blue eyes.
"Our interrogation room is ready, if you have need of it," Leliana began, but Starling shook her head, cutting her off. Vir Revas, Starling thought. The Way of Freedom.
"I know just the place," Starling said, and the two walked silently together down the dark corridor.
A/N – In my actual play-through, softened and radical Leliana is The Divine. I chose to keep Leliana in this story because she is awesome, but I also think that no matter how radical Starling is, the Inquisition and the Chantry would not have accepted Leliana. Despite Starling's lobbying, Cassandra became Divine instead. In my play-through, I could not bear to leave Hawke behind, so I left Warden Alistair in the Fade instead. (It was a very brutal choice.) In this canon, Leliana and the Hero of Fereldan are together, while she (Viola Cousland) and Alistair rule as King and Queen. Starling left Hawke behind because Hawke is a mage; well equipped to withstand the dangers of the Fade.
Thank you so much for the follows! Reviews are VERY WELCOME!
Meiza – Thank you for your review! I haven't read any other stories where Fenris returns, but now I am excited to do so! (After I'm done with this one, of course!) Fenris was my default choice because he is my canon LI for Hawke, which is Gideon Emery's fault. So, originality aside, I chose him. I absolutely love Merrill and I think she has a lot in common with Lavellan. I also see her as one of the only mages with the talent and determination to rescue her friend. So, putting them together like The Odd Couple seemed to be the next logical step. I hope you enjoy!