****Last chapter someone blew up Astlyr's nice, new mage tower. What could possibly go wrong next? Well, considering Astlyr seems to have the worst luck in Fereldan you know something will find a way!
In other news, I made a video promo for the story...because I was bored and I can. Enjoy it here: watch?v=FV0BbpZIjCI&list=UUtrwu4TzHUKh3kbCZZvX_4A
Here are some lovely pictures I drew of Guardswoman Jones and Myfanwy: art/Jones-and-Myfanwy-521029531
And here is some Astlyr and Cole stuff for your feels: art/Faithful-Retainer-517991383
art/Little-Rememberances-517992659
Now enjoy the chapter (which is coming out in the morning today because I have to work in the afternoon)!****
Part 16
Rubble and Ruin
"Ow," Astlyr woke with a crick in her neck that felt as though someone had been jabbing an iron spike against her spine for hours. At first she didn't realize where she was. Had she fallen asleep in her chair again? No. This wasn't her office. Then she felt an unfamiliar weight at her side and turned, remembering. Cullen was still slumped against her, mouth slightly open as he slept. Her groggy mind cast about for how she had ended up spending the night with the man, on his floor. She gave his face another searching glance. Peaceful. No sign of the raw anxiety and pain she recalled from the night before. But now what? Should she try to rise without waking him? No, that wasn't going to happen. She heaved a sigh and nudged his shoulder.
Cullen woke and sat up too abruptly, "Oooof, Maker," he groaned, rubbing his back. For a few seconds he seemed as baffled as she had been about his location. Then he looked at Astlyr and turned bright red. The qunari had to try very hard not to laugh as he scrambled to stand, stammering furiously, "Oh, Astlyr, er...I'm-well-we-hmmm," he clearly decided the best course of action was to shut his mouth and collect his thoughts.
Astlyr levered herself upright using his desk, massaging a knot the size of her fist out of the small of her back. "Remind me never to sleep like that again," she sighed.
Cullen chuckled tensely, having put the desk between himself and the inquisitor. "Next time we should just use the bed. Wait. No. Maker's breath I need to stop talking."
Astlyr laughed aloud with her sharp, surprising laugh which made him jump like a flighty rabbit. "I agree," she said, more to watch him turn a fresh shade of crimson than anything else.
The warrior rubbed the back of his neck and took in his office. His armor scattered on the floor, his sword abandoned in the corner. He looked up at Astlyr with an expression of guilt, "About last night, I'm-"
"If you say you're sorry I will take that sword and slay you with it," Astlyr said, still smiling. "I'm not sorry, and don't worry, I'll keep last night to myself."
"Well," Cullen ran his hands through his disheveled hair, "you have officially seen me at my worst. I expect we'll have to be friends forever now."
"I imagine so," Astlyr agreed. She stretched her arms. She saw his eyes go wider for the flash of a second as he took in her full height, and she winced inwardly. Then she signed, resigned. It wasn't as though she could make herself smaller. She gathered her messy hair back into its bun and was about to suggest breakfast when there was a loud rapping on the door.
Cullen opened it and guardswoman Jones was standing there looking extremely agitated. "Oh, thank the Maker, Inquisitor!" the woman said, looking past Cullen to the qunari. If Jones noticed that both looked sleepy and disheveled from obviously spending the night together, she didn't give any sign.
"What is it?" Astlyr stepped forward, worry already creeping over her like a cold fog. Had something happened with the mage tower while she was sleeping; shirking her duties?
"It's Cole, ma'am," said the guard, leading the way along the ramparts at a jog.
"Cole?" Cullen was right behind them, not even bothering to pull on a winter cloak as they hurried onto the walltop.
"He's in the tavern and he's...in a state," Jones reported as she ran.
Astlyr felt the icy fingers of panic reach for her. She shook them off, focusing on getting to the tavern. A good commander knew there was no use worrying over a battle until you had all the details. As they went she shot a wary glance at the mage tower. It made a truly pathetic picture in the sunlight. Gutted, tattered, and empty. Workmen were already moving about, surveying the damage. The mages were about, trying to see what they could salvage, and finding any bodies of their friends who had died within. Astlyr knew she would be expected to say a few words for the dead, but she couldn't focus on that now.
Jones threw open the door to the tavern's upper loft, which was connected to Skyhold's wall. Astlyr moved to the rail and looked down. She immediately spotted Cole. He was standing in the middle of the ground floor, which appeared empty of both patrons and furniture. A moment's scrutiny told Astlyr that the tables and chairs had been shoved back against the walls, as though swept aside by an invisible hand. She rushed to the stairs, Jones and Cullen hot on her heels.
Once she had reached the ground floor she saw that the boy was not alone. Cassandra, Fen'Harel, Myfanwy and Varric were also in the room, though they too had fallen back, watching the boy with apprehension as he stood, alone and stiff, in the middle of the room. "What's going on?" Astlyr whispered, moving cautiously towards her friends, all the while watching Cole's still form.
Cassandra answered, "When we finished clearing away the wounded and ensured that there was no more danger to the tower I sought out Cole to ask him if he had any insight into what happened. He began to answer me and then was taken by some sort of fit," the woman looked baffled, which was not an expression Astlyr was used to from her friend.
"Cole?" Astlyr asked, tentatively, taking a step towards the spirit boy. "What's going on?"
Cole's head was hung low, so much his chin touched his chest. His arms were at his sides, his slender hands clenched into fists. Every muscle seemed tight, locked. As though any moment he might spring into action and murder them all. "I didn't sense it," he said, so quietly Astlyr almost didn't hear.
"What did you say?" she asked, stepping closer again, hand stretched towards the boy.
"I didn't sense them! Their malice. Their hate. I didn't notice and I didn't stop them. They hurt people and I could have stopped it!" as he spoke his voice grew louder and louder.
"Look out!" Varric called urgently.
Something pulsed out from the spirit boy. A surge of energy that smashed into Astlyr like a wave. It struck her friends and all the objects in the room, pinning them against the walls once more.
"Maker!" gasped Cullen in surprise as he and Jones were forced back.
Astlyr was not pushed back, but her left hand exploded with a familiar pain. The green light coming from her palm was so intense that it shone through the leather of her glove. She ground her teeth together to keep from crying out. Instead she focused her energy on Cole again, "What do you mean? Who could you have sensed?" she asked tightly.
"Those mages. The ones that attacked the tower," Cole groaned, his teeth flashing in a grimace. His mouth was all Astlyr could see below the brim of his hat.
"What I have been able to get from the boy is that those three mages we welcomed to Skyhold from the Markham Circle were the ones who attacked the tower," Cassandra filled in from behind Astlyr.
"Cole blames himself for the attack," added Fen'Harel.
"It is my fault," the spirit spat bitterly. "I should have sensed them. Their intention. Instead I failed and people died and it was my fault. What good am I if I can't help people?"
This time, instead of another pulse of spirit energy erupting from Cole, he flickered. As though he about to teleport, then changed his mind. His moved at last, holding his hands before his down-turned eyes and flexing his fingers. His whole body flickered again and he gasped. "W-what is happening to me?"
Astlyr moved closer again. The glow of her anchor mark had gone out and only a dull ache pushed insistently at the back of her attention. She tentatively reached towards her young friend. She stepped cautiously to stand in front of him, taking both his hands in her own. His pale fingers vanishing in her much larger hands. She felt him flicker this time. His grip in hers fluttering like the beating of a bird's wings against her palms. Vanished and returned in a heartbeat. "What's happening?" she asked, desperately.
"Cole," it was Fen'Harel's voice, firm, and instant, "You must not give in to despair."
"Cold Corridors, wandering alone. Ice and mice and no one remembers. I tell them to look at me but nobody truly sees, and I'm fading. Falling, failing, forced under dark water. I can't help. What am I for?" He flicker again. "I wanted to forget those days, but never can. Like cobwebs, sticking to the corners of myself. Can't brush them away. Can't stop it. I don't want to be nothing!" he gasped, his body vanishing for a long moment before returning.
"He's fading?" Astlyr asked, turning to meet Fen'Harel's eyes.
"I believe so. He thinks he has failed. He believes he did not fulfill his purpose and what is a spirit without purpose? Cole," the elf focused on the boy again, "You must not give in. You can still help people."
Cole shook his head, hat flapping with the motion. Astlyr could see her young friend's whole body shaking. She knelt so she could look up into his pale eyes. "Cole, you do help people! You helped last night! You got people out of the tower. We would not have found them without you."
"I could have prevented it," Cole whispered, for her alone. "I didn't sense-"
"It was my fault, Cole," Astlyr stopped his words with her own. "I asked you to listen to Morrigan. I made you focus on one person like that. It was my fault." The boy flickered again and let out an alarmed whimper. Astlyr made her voice more firm, even though at the moment all she wanted to do was have a good cry, which was not a natural feeling for her. She wondered if she was pulling some of Cole's emotion onto herself. "Cole, do you trust me?"
"Yes," he answered, his voice a small squeak.
"You do?"
"Yes."
"Then if you trust me, you believe that I will tell you the truth, right?"
He sniffed. "Yes."
"Then listen to me and believe me now. You are not to blame for what happened in the tower. You helped me get the survivors out. You help me every day, Cole."
"You help me too," said Cassandra. She was using her best commander's voice, which made it clear there could be no question.
"Kid, we're all here because you helped us," Varric said. "You helped us take down Corypheus! That's nothing to sneeze at!"
"I can feel them; the people of Skyhold. - Are we in danger here? I thought my children were safe! Don't trust mages, never trust mages," Cole muttered in his rapid way. His body flickered again, his hands substantial in Astlyr's, then gone as though they had never been, before returning to her great relief.
"Cole," Astlyr said, a sinking feeling of desperation flooding through her. Then an idea struck her, she tilted her chin up, still kneeling before the boy, clasping his hands. "I need your help, Cole."
He appeared to hesitate, looking down at his friend, seeming almost to see her for the first time. He blinked, his eyes as sunken as ever in his wan, youthful face. Ears and nose he would never grow into. Strong jaw that would never come to compensate for a weak chin as he aged. Yet he met Astlyr's gaze evenly, with the look of the ageless. "You-I'm afraid. My friend is slipping, grappling for something I can't understand, but I won't...I won't...I WON"T lose him! Whatever I have to do!" the words tumbled from Cole's lips as he read Astlyr's pain, ending in a roar that did not sound natural from the young man's small frame. "Without my friend I cannot be. I can live, but never as what I want." The corner of his mouth pulled just fractionally in an almost-smile, but it was enough for Astlyr to breath easier. He paused, "You're entirely too inclined to like people." he said, low so only she would hear.
Astlyr felt a rush of relief flood through her. Then Cole dropped to his knees so they were both kneeling on the floor, and he wrapped his arms around her. Astlyr reciprocated, engulfing the smaller figure of Cole in a massive hug. She felt his cold cheek against hers as he buried his face in her neck like a child far younger than seventeen she guessed him to be. She clasped him all the tighter and felt a rush of warmth go through her, and the pain in her muscles eased. He was soothing her sore body even as she tried to help him. She felt as though she might shake apart for this spirit boy.
The others in the tavern moved tentatively forward. Varric was the first to join the hug, followed shortly by Jones, which surprised Astlyr as she knew Cole often unnerved the guardswoman. Then Cullen added his own arms to the group, and even Cassandra joined in. Only Fen and Myfanwy stood back, smiling but looking awkward.
"I'm sorry I scared you," Cole's voice was muffled from inside the collective embrace.
"You didn't scare us, Cole," Cassandra reassured him. "You can feel our emotions. What did we fear?"
The boy pondered for a moment, seemingly enjoying the arms of his friends around him, "Not afraid of me. Afraid for me," he answered, and though Astlyr could not see his face she felt his smile against her shoulder.
"Ahem," the group looked up to see the tavern keeper who had emerged from a back room where he had obviously been hiding out until the issue of the spirit boy could be resolved. "Er...is it alright now? May I put my tavern back together?"
Cole moved slightly and Aslyer and her companions took their cue, stepping back from him. He tilted his head back, giving Astlyr a grin that made her heart break a little. Then he began teleporting around the room, pushing chairs and tables back into place. Astlyr and her company helped as best they could until everything was once again looking as it should. No sign that a supernatural occurrence had disrupted the tavern's delightful atmosphere. Well, no sign save the barkeep's expression, and that of several patrons who peered down from where they had been hiding in the upper floor.
"It's alright," Astlyr reassured the onlookers, though she was not convinced and her voice reflected this. "We're alright. Right?" she looked at Cole, searching.
"Yes," the boy said, simply. "I am sorry I did not feel the malice until it was too late, but I can still help. You still need me to help."
"Yes. I do," Astlyr said, this time her voice was very firm and certain, and she even tried to project the thought towards Cole, though she knew he could usually only detect the negative.
"We all do," Cassandra agreed, her tone matching Astlyr's.
"So... what now?" asked Jones, looking uneasy as she put the final chair back in its spot.
"First thing's first," Astlyr massaged her temples a deep weariness filling her. She felt a gentle hand touch her elbow. It was Cole, soothing away her sore muscles again with his gift. She gave him a quick smile, "We need to locate those mages who attacked the tower. I doubt they died within."
"They aren't in Skyhold," Cole reported. "I have been trying to sense them."
"Could you sense them over a distance?" asked Varric, eyebrow raised.
"Only if their pain was great," the boy answered, looking down.
"That's always been true," Astlyr reminded her spirit friend before he could spiral into another attack of self doubt. She couldn't have one of her greatest allies in constant fear of dissolving.
"I'm sorry," Cole whispered to her, long fingers gripping her sleeve loosely. "I won't let myself fall away like that again. I don't like feeling that way. It was so empty. Like drowning. I don't like the way it made you and the others feel."
Astlyr put her hand around the back of Cole's neck and pulled him to her for a brief, half-hug before letting him go. Was it her imagination, or was he beaming? Well, as much as someone who looked perpetually heartbroken could.
"What about the templar that came with them? Is he still in Skyhold?" Cullen asked, ever on task.
Cole got a distant look in his eyes for a moment, then nodded, hat flopping almost comically. "Yes. He's asleep, I think. His pain is faint. The gnawing hunger the templars have. They need the blue blood boiling through their veins to keep them whole. Yes. He is here."
"Cullen?" Astlyr turned to the commander.
"My men will track him down immediately," Cullen nodded curtly, all military manners in an instant. Astlyr had to admire how quickly he could forget other issues to focus on the task at hand.
"When you finish meet me in the main hall," Astlyr instructed.
"I last saw that templar with Dorian at dinner. Maker. It already seems a year has somehow passed since last night," Cassandra exhaled a drained breath, baleful eyes looking over the group. "I can aid Cullen."
"You need rest," Astlyr didn't require Cole's help to tell that this was true. There were dark circles under Cassandra's eyes that put the spirit boy to shame. Varric looked ready to topple over and Fen'Harel was leaning wearily against a table. "Jones," Astlyr turned to the woman whose quaint, amiable face was still bright and willing. The mark of an exceptional soldier. One who got up every morning and looked ahead to the day, never dwelling on the battles of yesterday. "I'm promoting you. Congratulations, you're a captain."
Esther Jones made a startlingly feminine and high pitched sound as her eyes grew very wide. "Captain, Ma'am? Thank you ma'am!"
"Promoting my men are you?" Cullen asked, arms folded. He was smiling so Astlyr knew she hadn't overstepped.
"Captain Jones, while Commander Cullen's men are seeking out that templar you shall inform the other residents of Skyhold that today is to be a day of rest. The kitchen ovens will be used to heat Skyhold, nothing more. We'll eat only food that has already been prepared unless an individual wishes to cook their own meal. Any who must work, such as Cullen's soldiers, the guards, and the healers, will receive a tankard of ale tonight on my tab."
"Yes ma'am," Jones stood straight, saluting smartly, already looking every bit the captain, even in her old guardsmans' armor. "I'll see that everyone is informed, ma'am."
"Excellent," Astlyr paused, sensing the woman was waiting for something.
"She wants you to dismiss her in your Inquisitor voice," Cole whispered from behind Astlyr.
"You are dismissed, Captain Jones!" Astlyr barked, unable to keep the pleasure from her face, but making her best attempt at stoicism.
Jones made the high pitched sound again, saluted, and hurried out of the tavern. Astlyr saw the barkeep shaking his head at the group. She could hear him muttering. "Daft. The lot of them."
Cullen too took his leave to gather his people, as well as any of Skyhold's spies which he could locate to seek out the templar. Astlyr continued to relate her plans, "I need to find Josie and head to the main hall. I should address anyone who comes with questions," and she'll make sure I don't trip all over my own tongue while I do it, Astlyr thought.
"I'll stay with the kid," Varric said, jabbing a thumb towards Cole, who was now squatting in a corner studying a mouse hole. "Just to make sure he's alright."
"Thank you, Varric," Astlyr put her hand on the dwarf's shoulder. "Make certain you take some rest yourself. I saw you organizing that bucket line last night." Varric's hand settled on hers and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. She met his fond, friendly eyes and a feeling of warmth spread through her. There was something about Varric that made you feel safe. At home no matter how far afield you traveled. She turned to her other companions almost unwillingly.
"Cas, you should find yourself a quiet corner and have a nap. You look like death warmed over."
As she expected the warrior woman was not insulted, but merely smiled grimly. "Agreed. Later I will join you in the main hall if you like."
"I would find that immensely helpful," Astlyr admitted. She would have liked Cas to accompany her now, were she not worried that the ex-seeker was ready to collapse.
Fen'Harel and Myfanwy stood to the side, seemingly thinking themselves forgotten in all the business of Skyhold. Astlyr turned to the Dread Wolf and met his gaze, giving him a curt nod, indicating that he should come with her. Then she turned and led the way out of the tavern into the winter dawn.
Outside the burgeoning day was mild. The winter too seemed to be taking a moment of rest. Somewhere an intrepid songbird that was overwintering in the fortress had ventured out to sing a few snatches of its merry tune. The sun was creeping skyward, a glassy golden orb like a reflection of itself in a pool. Astlyr missed proper sunshine. In the winter it always felt as though someone had draped a grey sheet over the world. You could still see light through it, but not with any clarity.
"Do you have any idea what just happened back there?" Astlyr questioned Fen'Harel, who found himself almost needing to jog to keep up with the qunari as she marched.
"Not precisely. From previous interactions I have come to understand that there was a point in his time in which Cole was very close to fading away. He gave me few details as it was obviously a painful memory, but he seems unwilling, or unable, to forget it. It is unprecedented how long Compassion the spirit has spent outside the Fade. Perhaps these kinds of issues are natural for a being more suited to a different plain."
"We keep hoping it is a natural change," Astlyr heaved a sigh. "He was doing so well," she tilted her head back to watch a lonesome cloud make its creeping progress behind a watch tower. "I hadn't seen him upset like that since we got him that amulet."
"Is he a danger?" Myfanwy asked timidly. She walked at the rear of the group, hugging herself against the cold, though she wore a winter cloak, identical to the one draped over Fen's shoulders.
"He has never been a danger to us," Fen'Harel reassured her, his tone far more diplomatic that Astlyr's might have been. "Since he appeared at Haven to help us escape he seems to have bonded with us, or our cause. Perhaps it is some combination. He has never harmed anyone at Skyhold, at least that I know of."
Myfanwy nodded, seeming to take this answer as enough. It was strange for Astlyr to hear Fen'Harel speak of those moments in Haven as though he had been there, though, of course, he had. He had stood beside her at the trebuchet as the dragon flew above them. She shook her head, trying to clear it. Certainly she and Cullen had gotten some sleep that night, but it had been poor quality. The kinks were already starting to re-form themselves in her back muscles. She couldn't shake Cole from her mind. Her head was already full to bursting with images of the tower almost falling. Of what this would mean for Skyhold. Could a person's head truly be this full of so much turmoil. It had been easier when they faced one foe. She didn't like how problems were coming from all angles. Like arrows aimed for her throat.
She felt a hand on her elbow. Looking down she saw it was Fen'Harel's. His eyes, when she met them, were filled with an earnestness she had to admit she was not accustomed to from him. "I believe Cole will be alright for now. We reassured him as best we could."
"I hope so," Astlyr felt as though someone had been beating her body and mind. Even when Coryphius loomed large as a threat he had never struck her so close to home. Haven had been a camp, a place to stay, never a home. But, she was beginning to realize, Skyhold was her home. And her people were her home, and when they were in danger she felt her blood run hot, as it did in battle, only now she had no one to kill. Perhaps this was why Iron Bull had people hit him with a stick when he had complicated emotions to work out. Perhaps she could convince Cassandra or Krem to do that for her later.
The main hall of Skyhold was surprisingly quiet. Astlyr expected people clamoring to speak to their Inquisitor. Eager to inform her that they were leaving. That the fortress was no longer safe. Instead, weary, silent faces watched her as she made her way towards the throne, flanked by the elves. She half expected someone to throw rotten fruit at her. What kind of leader did she call herself to allow such an attack?
Without being bidden Myfanwy broke off to fetch Josie as they passed her office. Astlyr suspected the diplomat was waiting inside for instruction. Brave as the woman was, Astlyr doubted she was eager to face a frightened Skyhold alone.
Astlyr achieved the dais, turning to face the gathering. Not as many as she had expected, though she was certain more would come. As she stood before her throne, unwilling to sit for fear she might make herself look even less approachable, she heard the ripple of a mutter go through the assemblage. Then three people stepped forward. Vivienne was one, and the other two were mages as well. Senior mages by the look of them.
"Well, my dear," Vivienne walked up the two steps to join Astlyr. "That was quite an experience."
"It was," Astlyr agreed, wondering when the elegant enchanter was going to light into her. Tear her apart for letting such an attack happen.
"I suppose we must be thankful it occurred at night, as thus not many of our number were endangered." Viv pressed on. Her expression was serene, not angry.
"Do we know who was responsible yet, Lady Inquisitor?" asked one of the mages who had come forward with Vivienne. They too seemed calm.
This reaction was unexpected, but most welcome, Astlyr thought gratefully. "We have a lead, yes. Cullen and his men are investigating as we speak. Action will be taken, I assure you."
"Do we have any idea why we were attacked?" asked the other mage. An aging man with more white in his beard than brown.
"No," Astlyr admitted.
Josephine rushed over to join them then, looking flustered. The papers on her writing board were all out of order and several scattered out all around her like fallen feathers. Myfanwy helped to gather them up.
"I have my suspicions which I will share with you later, my dear. For the moment your people merely need to be reassured." Vivienne said, her unflappable tone soothing to Astlyr's harried mind.
"The mages all stand beside you," the old man spoke again. His dark brown eyes met Astlyr's firmly.
"You would be well within your rights to leave Skyhold," Astlyr admitted, though quietly, so no one else in the hall might hear.
"With respect madam," the other mage, a woman with her black hair tucked away in an elegant head covering, stepped forward, "most, if not all, of the mages here at Skyhold have seen much worse than this in their own circles. Most were abused by their templars. Threatened with death or torture when they dared to demand better treatment. These people have lived in fear much of their lives. Skyhold opened its gates to them and proved to be the best home any of us have ever seen. When someone harms this home, it would be foolish to turn our backs on the very place that has housed us and healed our wounds. Whatever the cause of this attack, we will stand with you."
Astlyr felt like her legs might give out. Relief rushed through her, calming the fire inside her like a soothing balm. For once something was going a little bit right. If only it would continue. Astyr was so stricken with gratitude that she could only manage a nod, and a firm handshake for each mage. She was not ready to admit that it may have been her own negligence which had allowed the attack. The knowledge gnawed at the back of her mind. She had let those three mages in with open arms. The templars in Skyhold were relaxed, seldom interfering in the lives of the mages. Had these open doors and lax attitudes made the attack all the easier?
The mages moved away from her, seemingly satisfied with their report. Now, certainly, the complaints would come. Instead some of Astlyr's building crew stepped forward, hats off and clasped in their hands, to demonstrate how serious they found the situation. "The internal damage to the tower was the most severe," one of them reported, "We believe we have located the genesis of the attack, with the aid of our friends," the man gestured to some mages clustered nearby. Astlyr recognized them as the earth mages from the night before.
One of them stepped forward, timidly, "A timed detonation, likely allowing those who set the explosive wards a chance to escape. Smaller explosive wards were located throughout the tower. Some did not trigger, which is fortunate for us. We were able to disarm those before further damage could be done."
"Er, excellent job," Astlyr praised, feeling awkward, but trying her best to look like she knew what she was doing up there in front of everyone.
"We'll begin repairs as soon as we can," the builder said. "Tomorrow most likely. Of course, we will have to split ourselves somewhat between that task, and shoring up that tunnel you found so our wall doesn't collapse."
"Indeed," Astlyr agreed folding her arms. In her mind's eye she was already helping decide which workmen were best suited to each task. A general selecting her soldiers with precision. "Very good."
The men stepped back and Astlyr looked out at those assembled. Not one face looked back at her with hatred. There was no blame in anyone's eyes. She felt a rush of something she didn't think she had ever experienced and couldn't give name to. Whatever it was it felt wonderful and it washed away the last of the heat in her veins, replacing it with calm.
A few more people stepped forward, speaking quietly to her of their plans, or even of the mages killed in the tower. Astlyr assured them that she would be speaking at the funeral ceremonies of the fallen. She reassured everyone that the tower would be repaired, stronger than ever. That the templars would be more vigilant for signs of sabotage.
Then Astlyr's attention was caught by several figures marching determinedly towards her. She soon recognized Cullen and three other templars. Two held the arms of the third, whom they led between them. The crowd parted, confusion and concern now evident as the people pieced together what was going on. The middle templar had is head bowed all the way down to the floor, but she recognized his shaggy red hair.
"Josie, may we use your office? I don't need all of Skyhold seeing this."
"Of course," the diplomat dipped her head, leading the way to the anteroom.
"The two of you can go get some rest," Astlyr told Myfanwy and Fen'Harel.
"Of course," Fen'Harel nodded and led the way back towards the rooms he and Myfanwy had been given.
Once in Josie's office with the door shut safely behind them Astlyr turned to the slumping templar, Titus, were he slumped looking dejected between his captors. Cullen wore an expression of purest disgust as he looked the young man over. Astyr wasted no time. She strode forward and snatched the man's chin in her hand, raising his eyes and forcing him to look at her. He whimpered. Actually whimpered. Trying everything not to make eye contact with the intimidating qunari before him. No doubt he had heard the exaggerated tales of her ferocity in battle.
"What do you know about the attack on our tower?" she snarled.
The man's lip twitched as though he wanted to speak, thought better of it, then changed his mind again. When a sound did escape him he mumbled so badly Astlyr couldn't tell what he was saying. She relaxed her grip on his jaw slightly, realizing she was hurting him. "I know everything." he managed.
"Everything?" she made a show of curling her lip in a dangerous grimace. "Well then you had better start talking, hadn't you?"
The young man looked so pale she thought he might be ready to faint. She took her hand away, worried she had gone too far. "Put him in the chair before he falls over," she commanded the templars who held him.
Once plopped unceremoniously into one of Josephine's fine chairs Astlyr addressed him again, this time standing back and folding her arms. Trying to effect a look somewhere between deadly and trustworthy. "You will be shown leniency if you talk."
"I d-I don't deserve leniency," Titus murmured, still not looking at her. "It was my fault."
"Your fault?" Cullen raised an eyebrow. "I've never heard of a templar setting explosive wards."
"I let them do it. Kess, Winter and Devon. I knew what they were. What they believed. They-" he paused and Astlyr saw his muscles tighten. Her brows came together, but she let him continue. "They attacked their old circle. They were against the mage rebellion. When their actions, and those of their fellow mages, had destroyed their tower they vowed to seek out and kill any mages they found who sought to rebel against their ideals."
"And you went with them?" Astlyr questioned. "Why?"
"They had my lyrium," the boy admitted miserably. "They gave it to me in small doses. Strung me along. I didn't really care. I...I was in a haze, you know? Needing the lyrium."
"I know," said Cullen, his voice already gentling with sympathy.
"I let them kill so many people," the young man moaned, putting his head in his hands. "This time...this time I thought maybe they would stop. Skyhold was so excellent. The templars here gave me the lyrium I needed. Your people were kind to us." He blinked a few times, his eyes were blurred with tears.
Astlyr had to fight back the urge to put a reassuring hand on his hunched shoulders. 'Too inclined to like people' her memory admonished her. "But did they attack again. Why didn't you warn us?"
"Because I'm a fool and a coward," Ttius raised his head and met her eyes for the first time. They held for only a fraction of a second, but there was courage behind them. As though he sought to disprove his own words. "They still held sway over me, even though I had no more need of them. I was so beaten by them I listened when they told me not to say anything of our past. I can't believe I listened to them. Now more people are dead. More blood on my hands."
Astlyr hesitated, watching the defeated templar in the chair. Clearly he was apologetic, but she could sense the crowd of people outside the room. They would not take a teary admission of guilt. They would want to see the man punished for his part in the attack on their home. On their family. Astlyr let her intimidating persona slip, kneeling before the man. The other templars shifted uneasily. She would need to show them that actions had consequences, in case they might be having second thoughts about their friendship with mages. "Why didn't you go with them?" she asked, scrutinizing his wan, dejected face. It was spattered with freckles, she noticed. He looked so damn harmless. Just a lad from the countryside. Though there was always the chance he was putting on a very good show.
"I don't know. Maybe figured I would slow them down. Or perhaps it was to slow you down. Give them time to get away while you figured out that I was involved."
"Let's not allow that to happen," Astlyr nodded towards one of the templars, who understood without needing direct orders. He rushed from the room.
"What do we do with him?" Josie gestured to the man hunched in the chair.
Astlyr pondered for a long moment, looking from Cullen to Titus who did not raise his face to her again. "He must be imprisoned for the moment. Until we capture his mage compatriots and get their side of things." Astlyr couldn't remember a time when Skyhold had someone in the cells below the fortress. The place had been cleaned out and made safe with new iron bars and locks only to stand empty.
The remaining templar nodded and took the prisoner's arm. To Astlyr's surprise Titus lifted his head as he was pulled to his feet. "Thank you ma'am. This is far better than I deserve."
"You are not out of the woods yet," Cullen warned. His voice was still gentle, but there was an edge of firmness to it. It was clear he had little respect for a mage killer. Though he himself had once distrusted magic users, his mind was clearly changed. "A decision must, and will, be made as to your fate."
"Yes, sir" the young man said, head hanging low again. He was led from the room.
Astlyr looked uncertainly between her two advisers. "Did I handle that alright?" she asked after a long silence.
"As well as could be expected," Cullen answered, which wasn't exactly the affirmation she had been hoping for. A sly smile crept onto the man's scarred face, "I liked the bit where you scared him half to death."
"Thanks," Astlyr said, trying to keep a straight face and failing. "I got a bit worried he was going to piss himself."
"He might have at that," Cullen ran his hand over the chair seat to check for dampness.
"I hate to interrupt this...whatever this is," Josephine raised a tentative hand, feather quill aquiver between her fingers. "But I am afraid I have something else to report." her body was tense, her dark eyes wary. This would not be a positive report.
"Just add it to the pile," Astlyr groaned, tilting her head back, as her neck crackled with stiffness. She could already feel the creeping fingers of her former devastation reaching for her again. Why was it so easy to slide back from happiness? "What?" her tone was dangerous as Josie hesitated, clearly unwilling to impart her newest round of bad news.
"In all the chaos last night and this morning..." Josie faltered, perhaps wishing she had waited for a better time. Astlyr was vaguely aware that her posture had changed. Her shoulders squared, her intimidating height and physique on full display. "Morrigan seems to have fled Skyhold...and she has taken the elluvien with her."
"What?" Cullen snapped before the inquisitor could respond.
Astlyr found herself rendered incapable of speech. She didn't even try. Her mind locked down, shut out everything. This. All of this was too much. How could anyone handle all of this? An attack on her home, the near total breakdown of one of her closest friends, the near death of another. Now Morrigan had departed for parts unknown and taken a valuable and powerful artifact with her.
Astlyr turned without a word. She vaguely heard Cullen and Josie calling her name, asking her things. She left the diplomat's office, marched across the main hall, ignoring anyone who attempted to get her attention, strode into her rooms, and slammed the door.
Once inside, safely tucked away from prying eyes, she let the fire in her blood overtake her. She threw her chair against a wall. She overturned her desk, papers and unlit candles tumbling to the ground. Ink splashed across her floor like dark blood. She smashed her fist into the side of her standing wardrobe and left a splintered indent, little noticing the shards of wood now lodged in her knuckles. She threw herself out onto her balcony, pressing her pelvis to the stone railing and letting the frigid mountain air cool her face. She wiped her bleeding knuckles across her lips, smearing them with red. She licked a hint of the blood from her mouth and it felt right somehow. Here, in this moment, she was only qunari. Not inquisitor. Not showered in questions and responsibilities. She was a wild animal.
She bared her teeth and roared a war cry to the watchful mountains. Distantly she heard a dragon's answering cry. She could not see the beast, but both of their calls echoed across the white. Then Astlyr felt her knees give and she sat down hard. She crouched, staring out at the winter sky. Not thinking, not feeling. Losing herself in the cold wind and the watchful mountain range.
****Well, we found out what makes Astlyr melt down. To be honest I think we're all surprised it didn't happen before this. Yeesh. Maybe someday something nice will happen to her...maybe. But hey, at least she had the sense to beat up her bedroom and not any people!
The mystery of what is going on with Cole continues.
As always, feel free to leave comments! They make my soul happy (and are the only way I know that people are still reading this shit LOL)****