'How could Blackwall not have heard this calling?' Dane ran his thumb along his jaw as he made his way out of the cave. The Warden had been vague whenever the Inquisitor had questioned him in the past. Dane had attributed it to well-kept secrets of a brotherhood, but now.. 'Now I wonder..'
The Inquisitor and his companions made the journey back to Caer Bronach from the cave where Hawke's Warden friend Stroud had hidden. They made the most of the sunlight that peeked through the swollen clouds above the Lake, stopping in at the village to gracious smiles and thanks for clearing the rift and stopping the undead assault.
Dane felt something heavy weigh in his gut with each step closer to the Crestwood Mayor's house. Discovering gouges in the walls of the flooded caves, skeletons both large and small, and walking corpses had been a harrowing experience.
If his suspicion that the Mayor had drowned the sickened refugees was right, they would have to detain him. The Inquisitor tried not to think just what he would have done had he been in the Mayor's position.
He paused outside the door to the wooden cabin, rapping his knuckles on the door only for it to swing open. Trevelyan took a slow step forward, hand resting on the hilt of his spirit blade.
"Mayor Dedrick?" He wandered into the modest quarters; seeing no sign of the man.
"Inquisitor.."
He turned at the sound of Dorian's voice. The mage held out a sheet of vellum with messy script scrawled across the page. The party watched as the Inquisitor gave a frustrated sigh as he read it, scrunching the confession note into his fist.
"He's gone. Let's go."
Dane chewed the soft inside of his cheek as he trudged up the hill away from the empty house. 'The Wardens, the undead, a dragon, and now the Mayor..' He sighed. Crestwood was becoming a major headache for the Inquisition.
"Welcome back, Herald. The Maker thanks you for your generous assistance."
Trevelyan gave the Chantry sister a weak smile, knowing he had to give this poor woman more bad news on top of everything else.
"I found the bodies," Dane muttered, retrieving a damp map from his pocket. He paused, trying to find the right words to describe the horrors that they had seen fettered away in Old Crestwood.
"But I must warn you, Sister. The Veil was weak there - allowing some spirits to pass through.. You will not find all those that were missing. I'm sorry."
The woman gave a solemn nod; wet pools forming in her eyes as she accepted the marked paper.
"I understand, Herald. Thank you for returning these souls to rest. Maker watch over you."
The Inquisitor's face softened as they arrived back at Caer Bronach. The trials of the day had left him feeling exhausted and hollow. He ascended the stone steps up to the higher levels of the Keep, gazing around the fortress in search of his companions.
'Maker.. She's gorgeous.' Dane stopped in his tracks as he crowned the steps.
He had spotted Cassandra; sitting in a halo of sunlight across the ramparts. The afternoon light bronzed her skin, illuminating the gentle expression on her face as she thumbed through a worn looking paperback. He fumbled to remove the outer layers of his armour as he watched; too distracted by her to focus on the various buckles of his jacket.
She didn't look up as he crossed the cobbled stone to where she sat; nervous hands picking at his pockets.
"Good book?"
Cassandra leapt from her chair at the sound of his voice, making the Inquisitor jump himself.
"Ah! I don't know what you're talking about!"
Dane frowned, mouth open in confusion as he looked between the book she had thrown in her surprise and back to her face. The Seeker sighed and snatched up the ragged paperback from the ground.
"Its.. a book."
"Yes..?"
Cassandra glared at him, trying to ignore the curious gleam in his eyes.
"It's one of Varric's tales," She managed to grind out. "Swords and Shields. The latest chapter."
"Oh." Dane replied, relaxing from his wary stance and sinking into a nearby seat. "I haven't had the chance to read many of his tales. What's it about?"
Cassandra blinked at the Inquisitor. She had expected him to laugh, to ridicule her like some of the others had. He leant back in the chair, waiting for her to tell him all about it.
The Seeker sank back into her seat slowly, eyes fixed on the Inquisitor; still worried he might burst into laughter at any second. She swallowed and looked away from his warm gaze, realising he'd find out about her tastes sooner or later.
"It's.. literature.. Smutty literature."
"I didn't know Varric wrote anything like that." Dane said with a glance over his shoulder at the dwarf. "Who knew." He shrugged, reaching down to unlace his boots.
Cassandra gaped at the Inquisitor. 'Not a smirk.. not a comment.. nothing!'
"It's frivolous. There are better things for me to spend my time on, I know." She found herself feeling defensive despite his non-reaction.
"No it isn't. Reading is the key to knowledge, after all." He said with that soft smile that made her cheeks warm up. "Are they any good?"
"They.. They're terrible.. and magnificent! And this one ends in a cliffhanger. I know Varric is working on the next one, he must be!"
If Dane noticed her gushing, he didn't comment on it. He tore his gaze from the Seeker to glance over at their dwarven friend. Varric sat basking in the sunshine; like a much hairier form of lizard. He had been working on something, true, but the last time the Herald had looked it contained far too much violence and cursing for a romance novel.
"I'm not so sure about that. I think he might be doing another crime serial." Dane mused, rolling his eyes as Varric gave him a wink.
"But.." Cassandra gasped at the Inquisitor, causing his eyebrows to hike well into his hairline. "You! You could ask him to- no, command him to.."
The Seeker stopped her sentence before she could embarrass herself any further; schooling her excited expression into a glower.
"Pretend you don't know this about me."
Trevelyan chuckled, making a zipping motion across his lips with his fingers.
"In any case, I have something for you." He said, removing his other hand from his pocket and reaching over the table towards her. Cassandra shifted her glare to his outstretched arm.
"What is this?"
"You can find out."
The Seeker relented, placing her upturned palm below his hand. He opened his fist, dropping two precious gems into her grasp. She brought her hand closer to her eyes, inspecting the small stones. They were beautiful; streaked and swirled with brilliant hues of amber and gold, dancing in the sunlight.
"I found them in the caves below the Lake, nestled behind some of that ore Bull insists on collecting. I think the rushing of the water smoothed them out." Dane explained, watching Cassandra examine his gift. "They reminded me of you."
"These reminded you.. of me?"
"O-of course." Dane replied, feeling nerves prickle in his gut when she did not look up. "But if you don't like them I can-"
"No!" Cassandra interrupted his ramblings. She met his apprehensive gaze with softness in her eyes that made his stomach flip. "I do like them."
"I hoped you would." The Inquisitor gave a sigh of relief, enjoying the blush that spread across the Seeker's cheeks.
"He never brings me gemstones." Dorian sniffed, having come to stand next to Varric and eavesdrop on the pair.
"Aw, Sparkler. Are you jealous your eyes aren't as pretty?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Dorian scoffed. "The Maker himself would get lost in my dreamy gaze."
"Oh, great. Now we've got some creepy ruins to go with our sandstorm."
Dane didn't turn to reply to Varric, lest the sand whip into his face again. They had trekked across the rolling sanddunes of the Western Approach all morning, only for the blazing heat to be replaced by fierce winds that scooped up grains of sand and turned them into painful bits of shrapnel.
The Inquisitor wrenched his boot from the sand, stumbling towards the dark shapes he could just make out through the dusky haze of the storm.
"Glad you made it." Hawke shouted from behind her arm as the Inquisitor's ragged party arrived. She clapped the Herald on the shoulder before pulling Varric into a one-armed hug.
"Inquisitor, I fear they have already started the ritual." Stroud mumbled from behind his Grey Warden helmet, gesturing to the bleak ruins behind them.
"Ritual?"
"Blood magic," Hawke muttered, a fierce tone in her voice. "You can smell it."
"Of course.." Dane groaned, pulling the hood of his jacket tighter.
"Lead on, Inquisitor. We'll be right behind you." Stroud suggested, his hand ready on the hilt of his sword.
The Inquisitor surged forward along the crumbling bridge to the centre of the ruins, relieved that the ancient walls managed to block out the howling winds. He was less relieved when he spotted a collection of demons and Grey Wardens; several of them lying dead in a crimson-stained pile.
"Inquisitor! Why, what an unexpected pleasure." A voice slick with arrogance rang out from above. Dane turned his horrified glare to the source of the sound. "Lord Livius Erimond of Vyrantium, at your service." The man finished with a theatrical bow.
The Herald ignored Livius, pacing forward and addressing the Wardens.
"This man is lying to you! He serves Corypheus, an ancient Tevinter Magister trying to unleash a new Blight!"
The Grey Wardens showed no sign they had processed the Inquisitor's words. Dane sighed in frustration; realising Livius must have had them under his thrall.
"That's a very serious accusation," Erimond mocked, sauntering down a few steps. "What say you, Wardens? I know, let's have a vote! Wardens, hands up."
Stroud growled from his spot beside the Inquisitor as the Warden's followed Erimond's commands. Their movements were wooden; lifeless. He was no doubt furious to see his fellow brothers being used like slaves.
"And hands down. It seems you are outnumbered, Herald." Livius gave a nasally laugh, folding his arms and appraising the group before him. "Why do you glare at me so, Inquisitor? The Wardens did this to themselves. You see, the Calling had them just terrified. They looked.. everywhere for help."
"Even Tevinter.." Stroud muttered through clenched teeth.
"Very astute," Erimond replied with a smug grin. "And since it was my Master who put that little voice in their heads, we in the Venatori were prepared. A demon army, funded by these most willing men and women, to slay the Old Gods in the Deep Roads before they wake. A pleasant plan, no?"
"How could Clarel agree to this?" Stroud shouted.
"Oh, you should have seen her agonize over the decision," Livius sang out in a mocking tone. "This was merely a test. Once the rest of the Wardens are bound, we will conquer Thedas."
"Redcliffe.." Dane muttered to himself, shaking his head to dispel the images flooding back into his mind.
"Corypheus made them do this? Influenced their minds?" Hawke accused from her spot beside Stroud; her face a storm as angry as the winds behind the stone walls.
"Made them? Why, no. Everything you see here; the blood magic, the bindings, this is all their doing. Fear is a very good motivator, and the Wardens were very afraid."
"I've heard enough!" Stroud snarled from beside the Inquisitor, turning to face him.
Dane nodded, moving to draw his spirit blade only for his Anchor to burst into a shroud of crimson fire. The Inquisitor groaned in pain as his knees buckled. The magic Livius commanded seeped through the mark in his skin, making his hand feel molten from the inside out.
"Tsk tsk, Herald. The Elder One showed me how to deal with you, in case you were foolish enough to interfere again."
"The mark you bear? The Anchor that lets you pass safely through the Veil? You stole that." Erimond sneered, curling his fingers into a fist and intensifying the fire in Dane's hand.
"When I bring you his head, he will be most-"
Livius's braggings were cut short as the black shape of Dane's wolf burst forth from the Inquisitor's free hand, leaping toward Erimond with a vicious howl. He shrieked in pain as the wolf's fangs carved through his robes, sinking into the flesh of his arm and snapping his limb around like a ragdoll.
The fall of Erimond signalled the start of a fierce fight. Stroud raced forward to cut through the summoned demons as they roared with rage, and Hawke disappeared into the fray, staff swinging wildly as she dispatched the possessed Wardens.
"Come on, dear." Vivienne grunted from beside Dane, hefting him up from the ground and out of the midst of the battle. He sighed in relief as the cooling sensation of magic soothed his hand, thanks to the First Enchanter.
The battle was over before the Inquisitor could rejoin the fray, leaving even more blood stains on the ground than before. Stroud backed away from the corpses of his fellow Wardens; pain written in his face at the waste of life.
"Find him." Dane growled, kneeling down so he was eye-to-eye with his direwolf.
The shadowed beast gave one short rumble in response. The group watched as it bolted away, disappearing into the screeching winds from where they had arrived. Livius had managed to disappear in the heat of battle, but Dane knew his wolf would find him, storm or no.
"Good evening ladies! Might I say how wonderful you're both looking on this fine night." The Inquisitor gave what he hoped was his most charming smile as he attempted to rush past the two women. The Spymaster gave him a knowing smirk. Josephine, on the other hand, did not look impressed.
"Inquisitor." The Ambassador greeted, standing from her desk and moving so she blocked the hallway to the exit.
"Leliana, have I ever told you you're my favourite advisor? And how there was that.. that very important.. thing we needed to discuss?"
"The more you struggle, the worse it will be." Josephine warned as he backed away.
"Are you going to let her threaten me like that? She's dangerous!"
Leliana let out a giggle, moving so she could sit on the Ambassador's desk.
"Come now, Inquisitor. It's not that bad!" Josephine rolled her eyes, taking Dane by the elbow and dragging him over to a plush looking settee.
"I should have stayed in the Western Approach." Trevelyan groaned, allowing himself to be planted on the sofa as Josephine clapped her hands with glee.
"Would you bring me that candle, Leliana? I need better lighting to see what colour scheme goes with his skin."
The Herald sighed as the Spymaster did her bidding, both of them glancing between his face and a chart of fabric swatches Josephine had procured.
"Is this truly necessary?" He complained after what seemed like hours of talk about jackets and shoes and purses, or whatever else they had gossiped about.
"Of course it is, Inquisitor!" Josephine exclaimed.
"Why?"
"Because you will be in the beating heart of The Game, my Lord. We cannot have you dressed in whatever you pick up from the floor like you do most mornings. This is Orlais, after all." She chastised. Leliana nodded in agreement.
"Alright," He mumbled. "But must we do it right now? I've only been back five minutes."
Josephine gave him one last appraisal and nodded, gesturing for him to continue on his way.
"Thank the Maker," Dane muttered, rising to his feet. "Leliana, I do need to talk to you."
The Spymaster gestured for him to lead on as they strolled out into the Great Hall. It was mostly empty, save the usual guards on watch. He opened the heavy door to his quarters, glancing up the stairs to make sure no-one was around. Leliana gave him an expectant look.
"It's about Blackwall," Dane spoke in a low voice, hearing guilt in his words despite his suspicions. "Ever since he arrived, he's been vague about the Wardens, don't you think?"
Leliana folded her arms, the ice in her eyes hardening as she listened.
"The Grey Wardens have their secrets for a reason, Inquisitor. What are you getting at?"
"Stroud, Hawke's Warden friend; he said Corypheus is using some kind of 'calling' to turn the Wardens. He said every Grey Warden throughout Orlais is hearing it. And then what Erimond said in the Western Approach.. How could Blackwall not mention this? How could he not know?"
The smile that had been on Leliana's face since their little interlude with Josephine vanished, replaced by a cold mask.
"I don't have anything substantial," Dane admitted, feeling his jaw twitch. "But that's why I came to you. You know more about the Wardens than anyone. Have you heard back from the Hero of Ferelden?"
Leliana shook her head, a sad look lowering onto her soft features.
"He left in search of a cure to the calling. But no, I have not heard anything back."
"So what should we do?"
"Leave it to me, Inquisitor. I have other contacts that can verify if what little Blackwall has said of his past is true."
"And in the meantime? He has been good to me, I don't-"
"We must be careful who we trust, Inquisitor." Leliana interrupted, holding his gaze. "Be cautious around him. We may not know who Blackwall is at all."
The Spymaster left at that, closing the door with a soft click behind her. Dane sighed, feeling awful at the secrecy behind his friend's back. He looked up towards his quarters, debating whether or not to head to bed or wander over to the Tavern.
"Inquisitor!"
Trevelyan turned mid-stride up the stairs, surprised to see the Seeker standing in the doorway below.
"Cassandra." He replied with a beam. He had expected her to be asleep already; having heard the Skyhold bell strike twelve as he climbed the stairs.
She took the steps towards him two at a time, a worried frown knitting her brows close.
"I heard you were injured in the Western Approach," She stated, almost breathless from her rush. "Have you seen the healer?"
Dane blinked in confusion. 'Injured?'
"Erimond used some strange sort of magic on my Anchor, but I was not hurt. Why do you ask?"
Cassandra looked from his marked hand back to his face; realisation dawning on her features.
"Ugh. I will kill that troublesome elf.."
The Inquisitor looked utterly lost, struggling to work out just what she meant.
"Sera," Cassandra snapped. "She told me you had been hurt, and that was why we had not seen you return."
Dane rolled his eyes. 'Of course she did.'
"I wish that was the case. Josephine forced me to play dress-up for Halam'shiral. Who knew there was so many ways to describe the colour red?"
The Seeker rolled her eyes, taking a step away from the Inquisitor. She avoided looking at him, evidently embarrassed to have been caught rushing to his aid. Dane swallowed past the lump in his throat, reaching out his hand to catch Cassandra's own as he descended the step toward her.
"I missed you."
It was true. The Inquisitor had rushed through their expedition to the Western Approach, carving through each enemy in determination to return to Skyhold and see her.
The Seeker's breath hitched as he shifted his other arm to rest at her waist. She was still in his embrace; tense under his touch like she had been every time before. Trevelyan took a deep breath. He let go of her hand and brought his fingers to her face, tracing the sculpture of her cheekbone to her jaw.
"What are you doing?" Cassandra murmured.
Dane stilled his fingers, searching her face for any sign she was uncomfortable. Her eyes were wide, and her lips were parted in a way that made him want to crash his mouth to hers. He felt her fingers scrunch into the tunic against his chest as he leaned forward, backing her towards the wall. They were close enough that their rapid breaths mingled in the fraction of space between them.
"There you are!" Iron Bull roared, slamming open the door to the Inquisitor's quarters with a bang.
Cassandra pushed Trevelyan away out of instinct, darting out from him and squeezing past Bull out into the Great Hall. Dane groaned in frustration, sinking against the cool stone where the Seeker had been tantalisingly near.
"Oops." Bull said apologetically, but he didn't look sorry at all.
"Piss! So close!" Sera cackled from behind the Qunari's massive form, earning a collective chuckle from the Bull's Chargers. They had crowded around the door to his quarters, hoping to catch them in the act - Sera's doing, no doubt.
Dane lifted his marked hand, raising his fingers in a countdown.
"You have five seconds before I hunt you down and kill you." The Inquisitor growled, resisting the smile that threatened as Sera gave a shrill giggle and ran off.