Rage is a Poison
The Hinterlands was severely wounded. Scars of fire, charring the earth flourished where green fields should have spread out in ethereal splendor. Houses were destroyed either by inferno and explosion, leaving splinters and timbers of wooded scattered haphazardly where there was once a home. This is why the Conclave was needed, Numina realized. This is what happened when it was destroyed.
Towering columns of ice erupted from the ground as frequently as it was marred by flame. Sometime the jagged teeth were empty, almost beautiful. More often than not, though, there were bodies, Templars, encased in the ice.
The Mages were out of control. They attacked anything in sight, Templar, bandit, or innocent. Numina could understand their plight, but what she didn't understand was how that gave them sanction to cause destruction like this on the insurmountable scale it was. Magic was dangerous, and the mages now used it unrestrained, making their control over it minimal. They had no idea what they were doing; they just knew that they wanted to be free, and everyone was suffering because of it.
The Templars were out of control. They attacked anything in sight, whether it was a mage, bandit, or innocent. Numina could have believed that they were trying to reinstate order, that the mages could not have complete freedom because of the danger they possessed. But they killed without restraint. And what made it worse was that the Templars claimed they had authority and reason when they killed mercilessly and cruelly. They were acting within their jurisdiction when they lit a house that apostates had locked themselves in on fire. They were protecting innocents when they slaughtered and elven farmer, mistaking his shovel for a staff.
Templars and Mages. This war and its brutality. All of it infuriated and sickened Numina.
After several days spent at the Crossroads, helping the Inquisition's soldiers better secure a foothold from the war, tending to the wounded, and securing food and other necessary supplies for the refugees; Numina made the decision that they were going to drive the bulk of the fighting out of the Hinterlands.
Cassandra had argued. She insisted that they should travel to Val Royeaux and appeal to certain members of the Chantry, as Mother Giselle had suggested to them before heading back to Haven as an agent of the Inquisition, giving her aid and support. But Numina was adamant. It was what the people here needed. Finally what convinced Cassandra was the fact that doing this would spread the Inquisition's influence and it would also make transporting Master Dennet's horses back to Haven once they spoke with him that much easier.
That is why they were now in such a dismal place in the Hinterlands' beautiful landscape. Witchwood was an adequate name for this location. Fog cloaked the area like an unwelcome blanket. Gnarled, leafless trees twisted and convulsed, reaching towards the sky for light that was muffled in the fog. Their branches were like fingers, grasping and snatching at anything that passed by. This place truly felt as though it had been cursed like a witch.
Witchwood was situated beside steep and rocky slopes, Numina had the idea that perhaps the apostates were holed up in a cave. Some scribbled notes found in a dead apostates robes had confirmed.
"We must be getting close," Numina said as more and more spires of icy fangs tore upwards in dangerous brilliance.
Grabbing her bow and keeping an arrow at the ready, the group snuck forwards quietly, hoping to gain the element of surprise. Before them was the apostates camp. There were five mages walking along a frozen pond in between ice barriers they had created in defense. Behind them was the mouth of a cave, protected by a barrier. While the ice may have been effective for a large force, the four of them easily slipped between a gap, stealing their way into the center.
Numina looked to her comrades to see if they were ready. All of them looked back with determination. "Solas, try to keep a barrier around us and stay towards the back," she said. He gave her a nod in affirmation. "Varric, I want you to flank left, but stay close to the icy defenses they put up; it should keep area of effect spells at bay."
"Will do," Varric breathed.
"Cassandra-"
"Charge from the front and hit them hard," Cassandra interrupted, clearly knowing what to do.
"I'll cover you," Numina added with a nod.
At that moment, the world to seem to take in its breath. The air was unnaturally still, their enemies movements seemed to slow down. Everything was waiting for the sudden release, the exhale.
If you listened closely, you might have heard a soft whistle. If you didn't, you still would have heard the thump. And even if you were going deaf, you would have heard the apostate's shout in pain as Numina's arrow struck him in the shoulder.
The exhale. Everything picked up speed.
Cassandra let out a roar as she charged one of the nearest apostates. Numina had already fired two more arrows into her enemy, killing him. Varric was picking off one of the apostates towards the back, catching him by surprise having successfully flanked them. Solas had cast a barrier over his allies, light blue silhouettes hanging above their bodies.
There was a moment where Numina was focussing on one of the apostates attacking Cassandra as she dealt with someone else that she didn't see the last apostate, redouble his efforts, focusing them on her instead. Varric had noticed, but unfortunately, he couldn't attack without potentially hitting Cassandra. When Numina finally noticed the last apostate, angry red flames were racing towards her. There was no where she could go, though. She had intentionally placed herself there so she would be a shield for Solas, most likely having attacks directed at her rather than him. If she moved, Solas would face the fire.
The fire's heat never reached her, though. Ice sprouted in front of her, rising to her height in many crystalline shards. Flames scattered to the sides in a myriad of sparks as it stuck the ice. Numina looked back to Solas and gave him a nod of thanks before rushing out from her icy cover.
With an arrow drawn she looked to her target and fired, her aim being true. The apostate made a soft gurgle as he fell, arrow lodged in his throat. He was the last of the mage forces outside of the barrier. Hastily, they moved forwards to the barrier. It glowed blue with winters touch.
"This barrier is based solely on magic involving ice," Solas said. "If we use it's natural opposite-"
Lightning arched and bolted through the air, striking the barrier. It burrowed a hole through it, and raced towards the back of the cave where the rest of the apostates were cowering. Seeking its way to the ground, it found a suitable path: directly through one of the mages along the far wall.
The barrier exploded violently with frost and ice scattering across the opening of the cave. Inside, cries of alarm echoed. Numina fitted an arrow into her bow and walked up beside Solas and Cassandra, "Or if the barrier is weak enough, any element of magic will do," she said smugly.
Cassandra let out a disgusted snort before charging at the rest of the apostates that were still recovering from Numina's initial attack. The group made short work of the remaining mages. They clearly had no defensive plan prepared, assuming that their barriers would have been enough. Before they left the cave to turn their attention to the Templars, Cassandra carved the Inquisition's coat of arms into the cave's soil floor as the others lit everything in the cave on fire. It was to show any stragglers that they were not welcome here.
~~.O.~~
The Templars were much more difficult to weed out. They were very organized, establishing actual patrols in the surrounding area well enough so that you could not establish the exact location they were protecting. What gave them away, however, were the two guards they had stationed on the path that lead to their camp.
Fighting and finishing off the Templars was actually much easier than with the mages. Here the group only had to worry about the occasional arrow or shield bash, rather than the four elements harnessed in destructive ways with magic. Although Numina did not rely on magic at all, when the Templars would use their abilities to dampen and cancel out magic, she would get a pounding headache and feel slightly dizzy. She assumed that it was worse for Solas though by the strings of elvish phrases he would hiss, no doubt cursing them.
It was now dusk, and they were all weary from the day's fighting, but they were satisfied with themselves. They had destroyed the camps of both the Templars and Mages and hopefully the Hinterlands would be much safer for the inhabitants.
Numina had spotted a good place to camp, it was a small cave, slightly bigger than an alcove, along the side of a steep slope. They were surrounded by trees, offering good cover from unfriendly eyes. Their horse was tied up, unburdened by their gear. Tents were pitched, but they decided against a fire tonight, eating their food cold.
Tonight Numina offered to take the first shift. The day's early engagements leaving her more awake than tired. As her comrades settled down on their bedrolls, Numina situated herself off to the right of the cave's entrance. There she sat, cross-legged in the grass. She placed her bow and a few of her arrows on her lap, having set her quiver off to the side. Closing her eyes, she focused and then drifted as her Keeper had taught her.
Through meditation, Numina could feel the world around her. With unnatural clarity, she could hear the sounds of the forest: the insects buzzing, the small animals shuffling around in the grass and leaves, and the occasional hoot of an owl. There Numina sat still as the whole word moved and swirled around her.
For a few hours she remained like this, listening and feeling the forest and those inhabiting it. That's when she heard it. At first it was soft shuffling, but it was something larger than a simple mose. Next came the sharp snap of a twig, ringing in Numina's ears, thunder from silence. She had to fight off the urge to open her eyes and look for its source. If she did, she wouldn't see anything anyway; the moon was shrouded in wispy clouds, making it almost impossible to see more than a foot or two in front of you.
"Quiet!" a man's voice hissed.
"The tracks lead this way," another man whispered
"Are we any closer?"
"We must be. Pretty soon we'll be hitting the side of a mountain."
"It's time they paid for killing our brothers and sisters!" came a vengeful voice.
That was all Numina needed to hear. Templars. They must have tracked us from the camp. Quietly she sprang to her feet. She entered the cave, thankful that they had decided against a fire. She went about waking up the others, starting with Solas. She placed a hand firmly over his mouth, waking him up. He woke up with a start, reaching for his staff nearby. The anger and slight panic dissolved from his eyes when he saw it was Numina. She removed his hand.
"Templars followed us," she whispered. "Wake up Varric." Numina didn't wait to see him agree, she quickly moved on to Cassandra, waking her in a similar fashion. Although, she was much more violent when woken up.
There was not enough to pack up their things. They only had enough time to sneak quietly out of the cave and head in the opposite direction of the bumbling Templars. Numina's breath was caught as she did all she could to remain silent.
It was blacker than tar outside and just as thick and slippery. It was difficult to see anything, making the option of evading the Templars nonexistent. Numina and her companions were going to have to fight their way out of here. Judging by the tension she could see and feel in her companions, they had already formed the same conclusion.
"Solas," she breathed more quietly than a whisper, "on my signal, light some of the trees on fire." Numina barely saw him nod in understanding in the darkness, but with how focused they were at listening for their enemies, she knew that he had heard her.
"They set up camp here," one of the Templars whispered.
"But where are they now?"
"The bedrolls are still warm," another answered. "They couldn't have gotten far."
"Everyone, out of the cave and spread out. Find them!"
Metal greaves scraped against the stone floors of the cave as they all shuffled out. Numina was listening intently, waiting for the best moment to take them for surprise. On her left, she heard Cassandra take in a hiss of breath out of impatience and nervousness. Varric shuffled slightly, repositioning Bianca. Solas stood immobilized, staff at the ready and a spell of flame dancing on his fingertips, his will kept at bay so as not to alert the Templars. Numina had drawn her bow, arrow at the ready, her arrow was trained towards the sounds of the Templars since she could not see them.
Finally the sound she was waiting for drifted to her ears, they had exited the cave and were in the forest with them, still clustered together since they hadn't had time to properly spread out and search the area. Nor would they.
A twig snapped. "Now!" she hissed.
Three trees off of the companion's left sprang up in roaring flame spontaneously. Cries of alarm echoed from the Templars. The sudden light caused a few of the undisciplined ones to shield their eyes. Numina had to squint at the light, but she let loose her arrow, and it struck their archer in the gut as Cassandra rushed forward. Her shield bashing against one of their warriors, sending him tumbling backwards. Varric and Numina took aim for the same warrior, turning him into a pincushion for their arrows. Solas froze the last warrior that carried the shield as well as Cassandra turned her attention to him, having finished off her first enemy.
Their adversaries were no more. "That was surprisingly easy," Varric said, shouldering Bianca.
"I almost regret waking you up," Numina said teasingly, her adrenaline making her words fluttery. "Almost."
"I wish you hadn't," Cassandra added, a small smirk playing at her lips. "I need my beauty sleep."
"Seeker," Varric started, "all the beauty sleep in the world couldn't help you."
Their laughter echoed across the forest joined with the sound of the fire still crackling in the trees. It was pleasant on the ears on and their hearts. Things could have been much worse. They were fortunate that they were able to deal with the Templars so quickly.
But their rush could have been viewed as reckless. And their laughter did not just fall on the forest. They reached the ears of an archer, the one Numina had opened her attack with. He had not died yet, though he had no illusions that he would soon perish. Shaking hands held his bow as he fitted an arrow on the string. Beside him was a crushed bottle of black liquid, he dipped the arrow into it before taking aim. It's always the fucking mages. he thought bitterly. "I will take you with me apostate!"
It was the shuffling that Numina heard first. The fire burning in the tree tops nearly overwhelming it. Her eyes searched the shadowed wood for the source, Varric's jokes drawing the others' attention, distracting them from noticing it. With his last curse, she had seen the remaining enemy and where he was aiming.
"Solas!" she exclaimed, though there was no point in warning him. He would not have been able to react in time. Why she warned him at all was beyond her understanding, reflex maybe. It was not needed, however, because as she said his name, Numina was already shoving him out of the way.
The arrowed shot through the air and buried itself into her shoulder. Though she knew it was coming, she still let out a small yelp of pain. Her reaction was almost instantaneous though. She raised her left hand and a ball of fire raced from her palm to the archer. Screams as he burned were silenced quickly once he died.
"Are you alright?" Solas said, rising to his feet.
"Minus the arrow? Yeah." She snapped off part of the shaft to make it easier to manage. Solas approached her, his eyes silently asking for permission. Numina removed her hand she was using to keep pressure on the wound, her right shoulder throbbing and her muscles screaming as even the slightest of movements would send her muscles rapping against the arrow embedded amongst them.
"We will scout the area and see if their are any more templars lurking about," Cassandra informed them, previous levitivity evaporated from the atmosphere.
"That would be a good idea," Numina laughed nervously.
At Solas' motioning, they both sat on an old fallen tree and he addressed her wound. He kept a blank face as he went to work, pressing on the area around her wound. Numina would occasionally flinch or hiss with discomfort and pain, but Solas remained stoic. She couldn't read anything from his expression not for lack of trying.
His hands were gentle and he moved his way around her wound with skill, avoiding jarring the arrow and causing her additional pain. Finally he said something, "You shouldn't have taken that arrow for me." His voice was neither chastising or condescending. Instead it sounded sad, like he wished Numina hadn't taken the arrow for her sake alone. He reached for the pouch he carried on his belt, pulling out torn strips of cloth he was going to use.
"Better my shoulder than-"
Sharp searing pain spread like flames from her wound, burning her muscles and flesh. She cried out with it, surprised by Solas suddenly removing the arrow from her shoulder. He examined the arrow for a second, unable to see very clearly in the dying light the the trees fires. He missed the black residue lingering on the shaft close to the arrowhead.
Solas cast the arrow aside before pressing cloth onto her wound to stem the tide of bleeding. Numina was breathing heavily, focusing on control, fighting the first few trendles of unconsciousness that reached out to her. "No, it is not better that you received this wound," Solas continued. "You have the mark, the only thing that may stop the chaos in this world. You must put value in that."
"Is that the only reason?" Numina breathed. His words brought her a bit of sadness. Of all the people that she knew, she had hoped that Solas would at least see her as Numina, and not some tool to fix messes beyond anyone else.
Solas frowned at Numina's question, his voice reacting quickly with thoughts he would not want to say at the moment. "No. Losing you would..." he caught himself hurt? Now is not the time. "The world would be at a great loss if we were to lose someone so kind and intuitive as yourself," he finished, offering her a compliment that was the truth but not the truth he had wanted to say. Not yet. Not ever, he thought with resolve.
A small, weak smile touched Numina's lips. At least I am someone to him, she thought pleasantly.
Cassandra and Varric returned announcing that there were no more Templars in the immediate area, though they should move on to be safe. All of them agreed to once Solas had finished dressing and binding Numina's wound. They packed their gear as quickly as they could without forgetting anything. Frustration filled Numina as she was unable to gather her things without Solas' help. Upon hearing her let out a sigh in frustration, he said "I do not mind. None of us do." He spoke about her needed assistance in certain tasks that would have been simple if her right arm were not in a sling.
The horse was loaded with their supplies, all thankful that the ropes had been tied tightly so that the horse could not have bolted away. Nothing was done with the bodies of the Templars as they left. It was wordlessly agreed that they would be left for scavengers.
Cassandra led the way forward, leading the horse alongside her. Varric was beside her, the two of them finally getting along. Numina followed, a few paces behind. Solas was beside her, watchful eyes monitoring her condition. The four of them traveled like this slowly, the darkness limiting their speed. Earlier in the day, they had decided to return to the crossroads to replenish their supplies before trekking to Redcliffe's farms in case they found themselves for more than a couple of days.
At the first instance, Solas thought nothing of it. The second time, he thought it might have been a hidden root or branch. The third time, he turned to her to see if she was alright receiving a smile that said "I'm fine." Still, Solas worried about her and found himself watching her more closely. The fourth time Numina stumbled, she nearly fell. Solas was there, though, he stabilized her, waving for Varric to continue walking, as he had turned back to see what the noise was.
"I thought the Dalish to be more surefooted than most while in the wilderness," he said softly, almost playfully, as he steadied her.
"Laugh it up," she chuckled weakly. "I'm just a bit light headed, is all."
Solas didn't believe her. Even on this cloudy night, he could tell that she looked paler than usual. She had minimal blood loss, so that couldn't account for her sickly look. "Are you sure?" he asked, instinctively reaching a had for her forehead.
But Numina caught his wrist gently, firmly. "I am fine, lethallin," she reassured with a small smile. Solas nodded before reclaiming his hand.
Doubt still lingered in his mind, but he did not voice it. And he was right to doubt her 's skin burned hotter than fire, yet her body shivered with cold that clung to every inch of her. Her wound throbbed and her head was pounding furiously. Her sense of balance was askewed, causing her to trip easily where others, even herself, would not. Whatever she looked at would fade in and out of clarity, blurring amongst the mass background of black; adding to her ever increasing headache. But she could not let them know. I will not be a burden again, she angrily vowed, no, begged herself. We must get a safe distance away from our camp.
Onward she struggled, stumbling and tripping ever so often. Solas was always there though, worry painted on his features as he helped her regain balance. A part of Numina wished he would notice the heat that she felt was surging off of her like waves. It went on like this for an hour, weariness gripping her tighter and tighter. It was difficult for her eyes to remain open or for her feet to lift off of the ground, but her will and determination, her stubbornness, kept her from stopping or asking for help.
She did not realize she had fallen until Solas was helping her up. One arm snaked around waste, the other grabbing her left arm positioning it over his own shoulders. "-ina? -hear me?" he asked, sentences only coming in patches. Numina shook her head, trying to clear the fog that seemed to settle on her mind. "-ssandra-ust stop-s-thing is wrong!" Solas' voice sounded wrong. Distant and warped. At his gentle urgings, she tried to walk, but her legs would not cooperate. A string of elven curses hissed from Solas' lips as he quickly switched from supporting her to carrying her. "Here-ave to do." He could feel Numina's light and slender frame shivering fiercely against his own. "Cassandra-bedroll-our blankets-arric-eed light!"
Solas set her down lightly on something soft and comfortable. Her mind and thoughts were to muddled for her to recognize things around her or what was happening. Soft fabric smothered her arms and legs in layers. A light blazed with life, it's intensity overwhelming Numina. She lifted her good arm to shield her eyes. But Solas just as quickly and gently snatched her arm away, placing a hand on her cheek. It felt like cool water to her burning skin, and Numina leaned into his hand. "Look at me," he whispered. Her pale green and blue eyes met his stormy grey eyes that were thunderous with worry.
"Her pupils are dilated," he said to the others. Numina was no longer able to discern any of the words he or the others said.
"Poison," Varric clarified grimly. "Let me see her wound." He removed his gloves and knelt next to Numina, across from Solas. Cassandra stood a little ways off, by the horse as she once more unburdened the beast.
Noting that the rogue probably had more knowledge on poisons than he did, Solas grabbed the small dagger he kept on his belt and cut through Numina's bandages. What they saw was not pleasant.
Black ooze tainted the outside edges of her wound. Some of the poison had leaked out with the puss and blood her body was naturally expelling. Varric scrunched his nose at the sight before carefully reaching a finger out, touching the black liquid. He sniffed the small dab before tasting it. He immediately spat it out, "Shit!" he swore, rising to his feet with an anger and vehemence that shocked both Cassandra and Solas.
"What is it?" Cassandra asked.
"Desire's Nightshade," Varric explained solemnly. "It's something new. Some idiot in Antiva discovered it."
"Is there an antidote?" Solas was next to ask.
"Yes, and lucky for you, I know more than just a few stories," Varric said. "We must leave now, Cassandra. We don't have all the necessary herbs to construct the antidote." He turned to Solas. "We will head for the Crossroads and leave you the horse. If she gets worse and it doesn't look that we will be arriving any time soon..."
"You will make it back," Solas said.
"We will," Varric agreed. "But I will leave instructions with the healer there for you in case."
The two of them quickly ran off, time being of the essence. Solas remained behind, tending to Numina. He began by forcing her to drink one of the few remaining healing potions they had. She had to strain to remain upright as she drank the potion, collapsing once she had finished. Next came her wound. Solas began cleaning it as fluidly as he could, but he did need to scrape softly against the wound to remove the poison that was caked to the edges. The pain she felt would have normally been uncomfortable, but bearable; however, in her weakened state, Numina quickly fell into unconsciousness.
Her wound was clean with fresh bandages. Solas sat beside her, hands working a slight spell of ice over a clean piece of cloth he had, cooling it down. He placed it gently on her forehead, his fingertips gently brushing against her burning skin. Numina's brow was furrowed, her body occasionally shivered as it reacted to the poison that raged within her.
Solas sighed. There is nothing more for me to do. Rising to his feet, he placed wards around the camp that had been hastily set. The horse whinnied softly to him before going back to its grazing. Solas once more took his post beside Numina, something he was becoming quite familiar with. This is the third time that she has nearly died since this madness all began. All of which apparently stemmed from her acting selflessly, throwing herself into danger in the odds that someone else may be spared.
His thoughts were interrupted, though, as Numina started thrashing slightly.
"No, don't!" she whimpered softly. "No!" Numina was responding to her dream. Solas thought about trying to wake her when the next words she uttered stopped him. "Fen'Harel save her!"
His curiosity got the better of him. He rarely traveled in the dreams of others, often finding them to be simple and uninteresting. So far, Numina had been one of the rare exceptions. Solas reached out, placing his hand or her arm lightly and closed his eyes. He relaxed letting himself drift far away, entering the Fade almost unconsciously.
It was not hard to find Numina's dream. It was a source of anguish that silenced all in this area of the Fade. He made his way to the edge of her dream and watched. Silver eyes gleaming.
"No! Don't kill it!" a little girl screamed. Trying frantically to tear herself free of an adult's grasp. They were all Dalish, though the child's face was unmarked, innocent, aside from the tears that streamed down her cheeks.
"Da'len, it is a wolf. We cannot allow it to be so close to the rest of the clan," one of the elves said.
"She hasn't hurt anybody!" the girl wailed
"It's no use Keeper," another elf chimed in. "She won't listen to reason."
"She may be a child," the Keeper responded bitterly, "but she has more common sense than most."
The little girl had been quiet, but suddenly seeing an opportunity, she bit the one who was restraining her. He cried out in pain, shoving the girl harshly to the ground. That is when the wolf, the one that had been standing proudly yet silently and non-threateningly, reacted. Crouching down low, the wolf began to growl at the man who had shoved the little girl. One of the elves responded in kind by drawing his bow and aiming at the now menacing wolf.
"No!" the little girl cried, throwing herself at the wolf. She locked her arms around its neck, hugging it tightly.
Audible gasps came from the gathered elves as the wolf did not attack the girl. Instead it relaxed, dropping the snarl and silencing. No one moved for several moments. It was a standoff between the elves and the wolf with the little girl trying to keep the fighting from taking place, trying to keep both sides alive.
Finally, it was the wolf that moved first. Shaking its head slightly, the little girl let go of its soft coat. It then retreated a few steps. Its soft eyes trained on the girl, its friend.
Strong arms wrapped around the girl tightly, hoisting her up in the air. The girl began thrashing in a panic. "No! Don't!" she screeched. "Fen'Harel, save her!" The girl's prayer had fallen on deaf ears though, as the sound of pained whimpering escaped the wolf as it was slain. As it died, the girl became unnaturally still. The tears that had rained upon her face had even stopped.
The elf that had dragged the girl away from her friend let her go, softly placing her back onto her feet. Her head was lowered, bangs obscuring her face. She whispered something softly.
"What did you say, da'len?" the Keeper asked softly, sympathetically.
"I said," the girl began, her voice dripping with malice that should not be possible for one so young to feel, "may the Dread Wolf take you all!" With that, the girl spun around and ran off, leaving the others far behind her.
"Numina wait!" the Keeper cried out, but she was long gone.
The scenery of the dream began to fade steadily. Numina would soon wake up. It wasn't a dream, Solas thought has he returned from the fade. It was a memory. A well formed memory at that. Most can only get the general picture of their memories, but hers had exceptional detail.
Numina frowned and began to stir. Solas was roused from his thoughts. It was now dawn, and thankfully she was still alive. Her memory had been lucid, and Solas had slight hope that Numina would be as well.
"What-what happened?" she asked weakly. The fog on her mind was gone, thanks to the healing potion, but the poison still surged through her unhindered.
Solas couldn't stop himself from letting out a sigh of relief. "Do you remember anything?"
Numina thought for a moment. "I fell," she answered.
Solas nodded. "The arrow you were injured with was laced with poison, which is still burning through your veins."
"Literally," she added, weak smile on her lips.
He couldn't help but smile. Even when faced with her own death, she was still light-hearted. "Cassandra and Varric are retrieving the necessary herbs for an antidote."
"And you are left with the task of trying to keep me alive once more. It seems I owe you an even greater debt now."
Solas shook his head. "I could not watch-let you die," he said, failing to catch himself. "You are... too important to...the Inquisition."
Numina noticed his slip, but did not mention it. Instead she closed her eyes, silently wishing to be back in the Fade once more, even if it meant another unhappy memory. Anything would be better than the searing pain that ached throughout her entire body, pure agony. "Will you tell me of your adventures in the Fade?" she asked. "Your voice is...soothing. And it may distract-" Numina let out a soft gasp as a wave of pain stronger than the rest washed over her.
Solas looked at her, worry etched in his expression before nodding. "Of course." He then searched for a memory that might interest her. "Would you care to hear of the Battle at Ostagar during the Fifth Blight?"
A smile tugged at her lips once more. "The Grey Wardens have always fascinated me," she admitted.
And thus, Solas dived into his narrative of the memory he experienced in the Fade. Numina quietly listened, her eyes closed as she drank in every word that he said. Occasionally, she would ask a question or two, but Solas did not mind. Her inquisitive nature was endearing. As he finished, Solas finally noticed that Numina was once again asleep. He could not help but smile. It faded quickly though when he reached a hand to her forehead. Numina's fever had gotten worse.
~~.O.~~
"Tell me that we are not too late," Cassandra panted, her face red from running. She quickly thrust a bottle containing a green liquid. "Varric had me run ahead. He said that she needs to drink half, and the other half needs to go into the wound just as the poison had."
Solas nodded, leaning down to Numina. "Wake up," he commanded, his words laced with magic, snaking their way to the far corners of her dream. Numina shook her head lightly, frowning before she finally opened her eyes, squinting in the sunlight. "I need you to sit up," he told her softly. She nodded and did her best to help, but it was mainly Solas propping her up that allowed her to sit. "You need to drink half of this." He held the bottle containing the antidote up to her.
Numina weakly grasped it and removed the stopper on top. A pungent smell seeped out of it, causing even Cassandra to wrinkle her nose at it. "Can I choose death by poison instead," she joked fraily. Solas gave her a look as though he were chastising a child. "No? Alright..." she sighed.
It was thick like paste and it stuck to her throat as she swallowed it. On her first gulp she nearly gagged, throwing it all back up. There were not enough words for her to describe just how disgusting the antidote was. When she finished half of it off, she began to cough in attempt to clear her throat of the slimy liquid, handing the remaining potion back to Solas. "Yup," she coughed, growing weaker with each one. "I would have chosen the poison."
Solas ignored her. "Cassandra, I will need you to hold her legs in case she thrashes."
"Why would I thrash about?"
"You drank the potion so that it would stop the poison in your organs," he explained figuring out the reason behind Varric's instructions earlier. "It would take time you may not have for it to reach your bloodstream, unless..."
"I will do my best not to kick you," Numina said to Cassandra, figuring out where Solas was going. Her wound.
Solas removed the bandages covering her wound. It was much cleaner than the last time he had removed them. "Ir abelas, lethallan," he whispered softly. He braced his left arm across her collarbone, taking care not to apply too much force. She felt so fragile. Numina shuffled a little bit, looking up at the sky, her eyes cold with determination and a will to remain in control. Cassandra was crouching over Numina's legs, he arms braced against them on either side of her knee.
As Solas applied the antidote to the wound, Numina would jerk in reflex, an automatic attempt to run away from the pain. Much to Solas' surprise, she was able to maintain consciousness, but ultimately the strain and effort weakened her. She passed out towards the end. Truth be told, he almost wished that she had fallen unconscious sooner, lessening the suffering she had to endure.
The bottle empty, Solas tossed it to the side, letting out a breath he had not realized he had been holding. Leaned back, his muscles relaxing after holding himself tensely over Numina. "Do you think it worked?" Cassandra asked him.
"I do not know. All we can do is wait."
Cassandra nodded. "Get some sleep Solas," she said. "I will watch over her. If there is any change, I will wake you immediately."
Solas nearly argued with the Seeker. She had been the one to run too and from the Crossroads. Yet he felt weary, so he selfishly did as Cassandra said, laying out a second bedroll a short distance away. He fell asleep quickly, slipping into the Fade as his body rested.
~~.O.~~
Solas woke up to the sound of light laughter.
"And then Hawke looks back at all of us and says, 'I wanted a new pair of shoes.' The High Dragon was smoldering slightly behind her and all of us just gaping at her. We had just taken on a High Dragon for her new shoes!" Varric exclaimed humorously. "She had this stupid smirk on her face. That is what eventually made us all laugh. Maker, she even got Anders and Fenris to laugh, and those two were the most depressing people I've ever met."
Numina's laughter echoed throughout the camp. It was lively this time though, not weak and pitiful as it had been. Solas stood up and leaned against a tree a little ways off, small smile on his lips. He was glad to see that she was doing much better. "It sounds like those two would get along," she remarked.
"And you would be wrong. If Broody-Fenris- wasn't trying to kill Blondie-Anders- all the time, then Blondie would be goading Broody into trying to kill him." Varric said incredulously.
"Who was the cat and who was the mouse?" she asked with a smile.
"Eh... Fenris was more of a wolf," Varric started, "And Anders...he was the cat."
"A cat who destroyed a Chantry," Cassandra added displeasingly.
"I honestly didn't think he had it in him," Varric grumbled. That's when the rogue noticed Solas. "Hey, look who finally woke up! You slept nearly as long as she did."
"I did?"
"Yes, it's afternoon of the following day."
"I apologize," Solas said with a bow of his head. "I had not intended on sleeping for so long."
"Don't be," Numina said, flashing him a smile. "I only woke up an hour or so ago myself." The color had yet to return fully to her skin, but she looked much healthier. Her eyes that had been dull and glazed over were now shining with life that had been nearly snuffed out. Her arm was once more in a sling and fresh bandages were wrapped around her shoulder.
"Now that you're awake," Cassandra started, "we can continue on to the Crossroads for our supplies."
Once more the group packed up and left. Cassandra taking the lead with the horse and the rest following behind. Numina still felt a little weak, lingering consequences of the poison, but she was able to carry on just fine. Solas remained by her side, though. Just in case. And she was thankful for his presence and his concern.
~~.O.~~
"Mind if I join you?" asked a friendly voice.
Numina looked up and smiled at Solas. "Not at all." She had been caught up in a book that she had found earlier, but she did not mind his interruption. He gave her a smile of thanks before seating himself next to her on the dock. It overlooked the frozen lake in Haven, the swirling symphony of green reflected on its surface.
It had been a couple of weeks since the incident with the poisoned arrow. She had recovered from the wound, a small mar on her skin where a scar would serve as a reminder. Master Dennet and his magnificent horses had joined the Inquisition at haven. And the Hinterlands was now clear of Templars, Mages, and bandits. The refugees were finally safe. Peace had returned to the land through the Inquisitions efforts, through Numina's efforts. Even while wounded, she had insisted on helping deal with the bandits and clearing out all of the rifts that plagued the land. She had even recruited a cult that worshipped the Breach to spread word of the Inquisition, casting them in a near holy light. Numina's work, with the help of Cassandra, Solas, and Varric, had done wonders for the Inquisition's reputation and influence. Josephine had even said that they might stand a chance in Val Royeaux when meeting with the Chantry as the necessary preparations were made. The plan was to leave tomorrow.
Numina turned back to her book, noticing that Solas sat in ethereal stillness. Meditating, Numina realized. She smiled, remembering her own meditations she used to have back in her forests. For they were her forests .She had spent so much time in them with her clan that she knew them almost intimately. The words on the page began to blur together as her mind wandered. After rereading the same page several times over and still not knowing what it said, Numina closed the book softly and let her thoughts take her where they wanted to go.
Her thoughts brought her to dwell on her location. It wasn't the quietest spot, but she liked it for the atmosphere. The ice on the lake made it feel as if the world was perfectly still, yet the sound of the Inquisition's soldiers betrayed that feeling with the quick pace of battle, even if it was only training. The two aspects clashing sung harmony with her own feelings that she could not express nor did she have anyone to express them to.
She wanted to be still like the ice, locked in place with peace. Not fretting, not worrying, not fighting against forces outside of her comprehension like she had been with her clan in the forests. But at the same time, Numina enjoyed the fighting, not for the sake of sport or bloodshed. She enjoyed the fast pace, the reflexivity, and the skill you needed for it. It was a war between desires, and at the very heart of it, Numina wished that she could go back to her clan, to the forests, to childish fights amongst her clan members that did not involve holes in the sky. But she didn't. If she were not here,someone else would have to take her place as the one to try and fix things. And if no one did or no one could, countless people would die. She wished for peace, but she would have to fight for it for everyone else before she could gain it herself. That was the price.
"I wish..." she whispered quietly, unaware that she had.
"You wish for what?" Solas asked drawn from his meditation.
"I apologize, Solas," Numina said. "I did not mean to disturb you. I was merely lost in my own thoughts."
"It is no trouble," he said with a smile. "Unless they are troubling thoughts. Perhaps I can help?"
"I was thinking of my home," she admitted. "I've spent my whole life with my clan. They are my family, and as much as I speak ill of some of our ways, I do miss them and the atmosphere. I wish I could go back and leave this madness. But I cannot, nor would I want to. Too many lives depend on me staying here and fighting for them."
Solas nodded. Things could not go back to the way they were for anyone here, least of all her. Change begets change."Did you leave anyone special behind?" It was a simple enough question. If she had left someone dear to her heart behind, it could account for her sadness being worse.
Though Numina was left to wonder why Solas had asked that particular question. "Only close friends," she answered. "Though one did wish it was more."
"I know that you will see them again," Solas said comfortingly, though he could see that she doubted his words. "Though you do not use it, it is clear to me that you trained your will to control magic and withstand possession. It is a control that you exert in most aspects of your life. Your indomitable focus is unparalleled on the battlefield and is an enjoyable side benefit. You have chosen a path whose steps you do not dislike because it leads to a destination you desire: safety and peace for others. Traits that I admire in you. There is no doubt in my mind that your path will lead you back to your clan if you want it to."
Numina smiled, at his words, but then something came over her. "Indomitable focus?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him, her smile turning into a smirk.
"Presumably," he said, trying to be careful, though he could not help a teasing inflection grace his words. "I have yet to see it dominated. I imagine that the sight would be... fascinating."
"Hmm," she giggled softly, making his cheeks turn a soft shade a pink.
"You are fortunate in the fact that you will have friends and family to return to once this is all over," Solas continued, trying to steer the conversation away from the flirting.
"Do you not have friends or family to return to?"
"I do not have any family to speak of," he answered. Numina could hear sorrow in his voice. "I do have friends, though not in a sense that you would easily recognize."
"I might surprise you," Numina said, urging him to continue.
"I have spent most my life studying the Fade, though I did not do so alone. I have built many lasting friendships," Solas explained. "Spirits of wisdom, possessed of ancient knowledge, happy to share what they have seen. Spirits of purpose helped me search. Even wisps, curious and playful, would point out treasures that I might have missed."
"I don't believe I have ever met a spirit of wisdom or purpose."
"They barely seek this world," he provided. "And they rarely seek out conscious dreamers in the Fade. They do not often survive exposure to the people they encounter. Wisdom and purpose are too easily twisted into pride and desire."
"What do you mean? Spirits change as the Fade does for those that are in it?"
"Yes. For me they are spirits while for others they are demons. The Fade reflects the minds of the living. If you expect the spirits you encounter to be demons, they will adapt."
"That is horrible," Numina said, terrified that the demons she had encountered in the Fade were wrongly so.
"Indeed" Solas agreed. "If you can clear your mind of corrupting influences and understand the nature of spirits, they can become fast friends, though."
"'Not in a sense that you would recognize?'" Numina asked, drawing from what he had said earlier.
"Spirits exist without form as we understand it. It is because of this that the Chantry declares that they are not truly people." Solas began to get a bit irritated. "Is Cassandra defined by her cheekbones and not her faith, though? Varric, by is chest hair and not his wit?
"You have a interesting way of looking at the world, Solas." Numina said smiling, hoping to draw away his irritation.
"I try...and that isn't exactly an answer," he said smirking at her.
"I look forward to helping you make new friends," she continued. "Ones that the Chantry might actually acknowledge."
"That should be...well," Solas sighed nervously.
"That wasn't quite an answer either," she said playfully. "I would not hold my breath, though. After all, I have been formally denounced by the Chantry." Solas laughed as Numina rose to her feet. "I have a few things to do before we leave for Val Royeaux. I will speak with you later, if you do not mind."
"Not at all," he said with a smile.
As Numina left, Solas could not stop himself from watching her go until she was out of sight. He enjoyed his time with her, more than he should have, a part of him supposed. It was a part that he was beginning to increasingly ignore though. His heart felt lighter while she was near, and she was so full of life that she brightened the area around her. Her curiosity is what Solas found himself enjoying more and more. With each question she asked, Numna exhibited wisdom greater than most. She did not allow her experiences and beliefs cloud her judgement or color the information she learned and shared with others. If the rest of the Dalish were like her... he mused. But he quickly shook that thought from his mind, as he was finding himself do often after spending time in Numina. She brought out a light in him, an optimism that he had thought all but gone. Even as he cast it away, he hoped that Numina would spend more time with him and help him reclaim his light that had been lost to time.
~~.O.~~
Author's Note:
I want to thank everyone for their help in pointing out my silly mistakes and for their ideas and criticism. It really does make a difference.
Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy.