Vivienne's backstory (what little we know of it) intrigues me. I decided to write it. Here follows what I think could possibly be part of Vivienne's background, based off dialogue and the small bits of information that we have. Not guaranteed to be canon nor to be perfect. Some characters are made up. Everything else belongs to Bioware and Vivienne is written by Mary Kirby. Please review, but be constructive and kind. Violence, possession, and blood magic in this chapter.

Hurt

"Knight-Commander, this is Vivienne, my apprentice."

Enchanter Lydia made the introduction. Vivienne scarcely believed it was happening. Everyone in the tower knew who Knight-Commander Geraldine Madrigal was and it was not every day that a mage apprentice of little importance had the opportunity to meet her.

"Good afternoon, Vivienne." The Knight-Commander's voice rang with strong stoicism, Vivienne noticed.

She was a stone-faced woman with a hard, angular jawline. Copper freckles flecked her skin. Orange hair like fire had been braided back, the spear-shaped end meeting between her armor's pauldrons. Geraldine Madrigal was a woman of superior height, even without her heavy-plated boots on. Vivienne, who herself was considered tall, had to look up to see the woman's eyes. To say the woman was intimidating was an understatement.

"Good afternoon, Knight-Commander," Vivienne managed to squeak in response.

"Young Vivienne is about to take on her Harrowing. Tomorrow morning, I believe, is that right, my dear?"

Vivienne nodded, still shocked that Lydia was attempting to make conversation between her and the Knight-Commander.

"Remember, child, words."

Vivienne shook herself from her frozen stupor. "Yes, in the morning. I take my Harrowing in the morning."

"Well, best of luck to you," Madrigal replied. The corners of her mouth turned dour. "If I know anything about Lydia, it is that she has trained you well, but there is always a risk."

A risk of what? Vivienne wondered.

Before she could ask, Enchanter Lydia jumped back in. "No matter. Vivienne is capable and I am confident, Knight-Commander."

"Good. We've had enough tragedy for a while." The Knight-Commander nodded to the Enchanter and to Vivienne, evidently ending the conversation. "Lydia, a pleasure as always. Vivienne."

Vivienne watched the Knight-Commander and her trail of Templars leave. She kept one hand on the hilt of her sword as she walked and her eyes up, constantly vigilant. As she walked the sea of mages before her parted. Vivienne thought about how it must feel, to hold such power and to know it would be respected.

"Vivienne, child, close your mouth and stop staring. It's very rude and unbecoming."

Chided once again, Vivienne hid her blush with a rake of her fingers through her curly hair.

"Forgive me, Enchanter. I did not mean to."

"You are learning. It is to be expected that you would be curious about such a respectable woman like the Knight-Commander. I will give you the benefit of the doubt, but you must learn to keep your wondering and curiosity to yourself. Otherwise, it will be used against you. Am I clear, darling?"

"Yes, Enchanter." Vivienne nodded once – Lydia taught her that more than once was a sign of overenthusiasm and fervor, another thing which could be used against her.

"Good. Now, I must run along to my meeting and you have class. I will see you again before supper."

"Yes, Enchanter. Good afternoon."

Lydia smiled – genuinely smiled – and it warmed Vivienne's heart. She departed from her mentor to join her friend Petyr and the other apprentices. They always met in the main hall so they could walk together to their next class under the watchful eyes of the Templars.

"Did you just meet the Knight-Commander?" Petyr asked Vivienne as she approached the young group of apprentices.

"I did," she replied.

"What did she say?"

"Is that jealousy or fear I detect in your voice, Petyr?" Vivienne asked.

"Maybe both. Who cares? Viv, you met the Knight-Commander."

"Did I not just confirm that?"

The group began to walk towards their class, Vivienne and Petyr walking alongside each other. Petyr hefted his overstuffed book bag over one shoulder and blubbered like a fool for a few seconds before Vivienne shot him a deadly glance. He raised his hands in defeat.

"It's fine. I was just wondering if you asked her about Lyssa though?"

Lyssa, the elvhen apprentice who hadn't been seen for two weeks. A rumor circulated that someone saw her being shuffled off to the Tranquil quarters. Another rumor suggested she had disappeared, just as so many others had who didn't pass their Harrowing. And another – the most popular of them all – told of a daring escape and her attempt to unite with the Dalish. Which of the rumors were true, Vivienne, and no one really for that matter, had any idea. But Vivienne had an uneasy feeling, a shifting slithering suspicion that the girl had been made Tranquil and would sometime soon be seen again by those of the Ostwick Circle.

"Of course not. That would make for dull and improper conversation."

"But—"

"Enchanter Lydia says there is a time and a place for all topics of discussion."

"Yeah, and when are you going to talk to the Knight-Commander again?"

Vivienne swallowed hard, because the likeliness of that re-occurring was infinitesimally low. But since when had she, little Vivienne, a mere apprentice of sixteen years, become a spokesperson for every single mage that disappeared from the tower? She never had and she had no intentions of becoming that spokesperson either.

"If you're so concerned, go talk to the First Enchanter," she sneered, veering off from Petyr's side to walk along the edge of the group of apprentices.

Enchanter Seamus's class on the natures of spirits and demons was on the second floor of the tower. As the gaggle of young people ascended the flight of stairs leading up to their destination, Vivienne looked up to see two familiar faces standing guard at the doors of the landing.

They were Templars, but they were Vivienne's friends. They were the ones who delivered her to the Circle.

"Vivienne!" called out the younger of the two when he caught her eye.

"Ser Caderyn, Ser Rhea!"

Caderyn had aged since the last time Vivienne saw him. Hair that had once been black as raven's feathers was now gray like fennec fur. Deep lines and crow's feet had been etched into the edges of his mouth and eye sockets. Soft green eyes were now heavy-lidded with sleepless nights and the weariness of lyrium use. Ser Rhea Conall, the woman, looked older too but she wore it well, like an experienced adventurer who shoulders a heavy pack up a steep hill. Vivienne suspected that her umber brown hair had been dyed to maintain its luster, like some of the elder Antivan women Vivienne remembered that visited her parent's stall.

"It's Lieutenant now," Ser Rhea crowed with a light chuckle in her voice.

Vivienne's classmates continued walking up the steps, making concerned faces at her. She ignored them and stood at the top of the stairs to speak with her old friends.

"Lieutenant?" she asked. "Well deserved, I am sure."

"Well, look at you! All grown up and speaking well for yourself. Enchanter Lydia must have you in her clutches," Ser Caderyn quipped.

"And there are no finer clutches to be in than hers, if you ask me," Rhea finished.

"We remember you were just a wee little thing when we found you. Maker, you're so tall!"

"It seems not even magic can stop some things," Vivienne laughed. "It's good to see you both, but I must go to class."

"Oh, yes, off you go. Maker go with you, Vivienne."

The Templars wished her well, smiled, and sent her away.

Vivienne turned right and walked down the hallway toward Enchanter Seamus's classroom. Her fellow classmates had disappeared from sight, but she heard a raucous from within the room. She continued forward, unbeknownst to her what lay ahead.

When she arrived in the doorway the scene laid before her was one of utter chaos. Fear gripped her – hard and unyielding, like ice in winter – and opened her up to the dangers that lay beyond the Veil. Echoes and whispers clouded her, filled her head with chants and propositions. She pushed them back, just for a moment, so she could summon the power within her.

A Templar, bloodied and broken, lay lifeless in the corner. Vivienne recognized the Templar; he was one of the few that assisted in the Harrowings. The cause of such violence was Enchanter Seamus, his hands soaked in blood and a handful of demons huddled around him. The apprentices had scattered or turned into abominations. The few that hadn't turned stood shocked, stock-still, and unable to react.

Blood magic was the first thing Vivienne thought of when she saw the blood on the Enchanter's hands. And from the looks of it she was right.

"What's going on here?" Vivienne bellowed as the apprentice abominations shrieked and turned to her.

Her words seemed to end the deadlock and wake her fellow students from their inaction. There was little time to act, as the first abomination fell upon a young curly-haired apprentice. She fired a winter's grasp at the creature, who took the hit and roared with anger. Without a staff in her hands her hit had little effect on the abomination, but it was enough to wound and cast it back.

The whispers from the Fade grew louder and begged more incessantly as fear crept closer.

"Let me in, and I will save you from this nightmare…"

"Just go to sleep, girl, and it will all be over soon…"

"We can help you. Make you more powerful…"

She pushed them away, screaming as she unleashed a wall of ice that blocked the abominations from falling upon those not possessed but crippled by fear. "Run!" she yelled to little avail as more of the apprentices cowered further into the ground.

"You cannot help them, girl," cackled the Enchanter on the other side of the room. He did not sound like himself. He sounded crazed; with bloodlust, or fear, or anger, Vivienne could not discern. "You cannot save anyone. We are all doomed by our very existence, don't you see?"

The Enchanter – who was normally a quiet, friendly man – appeared distraught and haphazard. His robes were ripped down the front revealing his chest and the blood on his hands shone like a layer of liquid rubies. Vivienne felt sick looking at him.

"They kill us, or they make us Tranquil. Like poor Lyssa. There is no in between. We are all dead! We belong to them!" He thrusted a finger at the dead Templar and then gave her a wide, eery grin. "And now, you belong to me, girl."

Blood magic. A forbidden art. An art not easily passed down. But one still taught, even apparently in the Circle. Blood magic invited in all sorts of evils; demons, possession, rage, temptation… Things that Vivienne had been taught all her life to steer clear of. Enchanter Seamus reached out his hand, whispering strange and unintelligible words, and then clenched his fist in Vivienne's direction. Every bone in her body snapped to attention, like the way the Templars saluted when the Knight-Commander passed. She was left capable of thought but incapable of movement.

Enchanter Seamus had taken control of her body with blood magic.

"Your ice spells are most proficient, Vivienne. I think I'll make use of them. To kill as many Templars in this Maker-forsaken tower as we can."

Panic slithered its way into her mind and heart as the enchanter turned her around, one limb at a time. Like a puppet on a string. Whispers from demons of fear echoed in her ears to the point of a deafening roar, a thousand layers of voices telling her to give in to them and to let them help her. She felt her heart beating fast, faster and faster, but there was nothing she could do. Like a marionette, moving as the puppeteer saw fit.

The only way out was to give in.

"Come now, Vivienne, dear," whispered one of the demons to her gently, in a voice that sounded horribly akin to Enchanter Lydia's, "you know that I can help you. You know that I can set you free. That I can end this nightmare. Why won't you let me, Vivienne, child?"

Horrified. Terrified. She screamed a reply in her mind:

No. They will not take me. They will not make me a monster.

But Enchanter Seamus did that for her.

She struck down two of her classmates. The first tried to run, so the Enchanter forced her to cast an ice mine on the floor. The boy stepped on it. His scream ended as soon as the ice reached his head. Blood mixed with ice. The second tried to fight Vivienne. She summoned an electrical current and Vivienne was struck in the shoulder with a sizzling ball of energy. As soon as the attack had been cast, Enchanter Seamus forced Vivienne to retaliate. A winter's grasp knocked the girl back against the wall of the classroom; she hit her head from the force of the blow, and slid down to the floor in a heap. Vivienne was not sure if the girl was dead or unconscious.

The other students – those still alive and not turned into abominations – huddled against the walls of the classroom, whimpering and whispering verses from the Chant of Light.

"Let me in, darling… I will take care of you," the demon persisted from beyond the Veil.

With uncoordinated movements, Vivienne's body cleared the classroom and entered into the hall. She couldn't look back to see the Enchanter. But she knew he was close by with his pet demons beside him. She wished she could scream, wished she could warn the Templars – her friends – that the Enchanter was going to try to kill them.

The Templars were already there, Ser Rhea and Ser Caderyn, rushing towards the classroom with their swords out.

"Vivienne!" Ser Caderyn cried as Vivienne's arms lifted to summon a ball of frost.

No, Maker, she prayed, one of the few times in her life, please don't let me kill them…

Before the attack was cast, Ser Rhea cast a spell purge. A cloud of blue and light sprang up from floor and drifted forwards over Vivienne and the surrounding area.

"Holy smite!" Ser Caderyn bellowed, looking over Vivienne's shoulder.

The force of Ser Caderyn's ability flung Vivienne back. She felt free as she fell; her limbs belonged to her again. Ser Rhea's spell purge stopped the Enchanter's blood magic. A sickening thud reverberated in her skull as her head smacked the ground. Vision closed. Eyes folding. Was that the roar of a demon? Was that the metallic smell of lyrium?

She didn't know, because all she saw was darkness.

…

Her head throbbed with every heartbeat. The sound of it was riotous. And then there were people talking too. That didn't help. There were two conversing, a man and a woman.

"Knight-Commander. The girl was clearly under Seamus's control. We cannot fault her—"

"She killed two of her fellow apprentices and almost hurt two of my Templars, First Enchanter. The deaths of the apprentices must be answered."

"They have been, Geraldine. Seamus is dead."

"I want Enchanter Markus and Ser Beatrix to examine her, all the same. They are the most familiar with…blood magic…and these types of possessions."

"I will see it done."

"And what about her Harrowing?" A third, familiar voice chimed in. "It was supposed to be tomorrow."

"I will make a decision on that matter depending on what Enchanter Markus and Ser Beatrix have to say. If she is not possessed, as the both of you claim, she will undergo her Harrowing as scheduled. If not…"

"Geraldine, this is my student—"

"And all your students are immune to the dangers of blood magic, Lydia? No. I think not."

"I beg you, Knight-Commander, do not hurt her. She is a good girl, skilled—"

"We can always make her Tranquil, if that is your wish, First Enchanter."

Tranquil. The word hurt Vivienne's head more than the impact of hitting the floor.

She opened her eyes.

"Please don't make me Tranquil," she pleaded, looking up at First Enchanter Hadrian, Enchanter Lydia, and Knight-Commander Madrigal. "Please… I beg you…" Tears, not of her own will, streaked down her cheeks. "I am not possessed… I swear…"

"We will find out soon enough," the Knight-Commander growled.

Please review with constructive criticism. Vivienne is a challenging character for me to write so I'd appreciate hearing your thoughts. This chapter was really difficult for me to write, so good criticism is encouraged. Thank you!