*****So, it is a rarity, but some Thursdays I don't have to work in the morning! Whaaaaaat? That means you get the chapter hours earlier...which probably doesn't make a lick of difference, but here it is anyway because it makes me happy!
In the previous chapter Astlyr resurrected an ancient elven goddess who used to be a halla, and who then starting getting her mack on with Fen'Harel. The best part though? Alun the giant stone puppy! Who doesn't want one of those?!
It's back to serious Inquisitor business in this chapter!*****
Chapter 21
Judgment
Astlyr had no idea how to react to the strange lip-lock. Ghilan'nain had to bend down slightly to kiss Fen'Harel. For his part the wolf god seemed alarmed by the entire situation. His arms remained tensed at his sides and he pulled away as soon as he could. Having finished the kiss Ghilan'nain threw her arms around his shoulders and spoke in an elegant, lilting voice. Astlyr could not understand a word of what the beautiful woman said, as she used the ancient elvish dialect.
"Should we leave you two alone?" asked Varric, grinning like the cat that had gotten into the cream.
"That is not necessary," Fen'Harel said tightly, managing to extricate himself from Ghiln'nain's arms. He looked thoroughly embarrassed and Astlyr was amused to see that his cheeks and the tips of his ears were red. "She is merely pleased to be restored to her true form," Fen explained.
"It seems so," Cassandra smirked, her eyebrow twitching suggestively. Astyr chuckled as she watched her friends. Even stoic Cas couldn't resist a good jab.
Ghilan'nain spoke again in her musical voice as she looked over Astlyr and company. Fen'Harel shook hie head, "of course. My lack of manners shame me," as though he had not just been aggressively kissed against his will.
"These are my friends," he began using the elven tongue, clearly introducing Ghilan'nain to everyone. The woman stepped forward and clasped each person's hands in turn. When she reached Myfanwy the Dalish elf bowed low, also speaking in the elvish language, though even Astlyr could recognize that Myfanwy used the modern version. Ghilan'nain looked a bit confused. She asked Fen'Harel something and he visibly bristled, answering her brusquely and moving her along to meet Astlyr.
The goddess stopped before Astlyr and her eyes grew wide, face to face with the qunari for the first time in her true form. Ghilan'nain glanced over her shoulder at Fen'Harel asking a question with a look. Fen laughed, speaking to her again. "She wants to know if your horns are real," he explained in common.
Astlyr grinned and leaned down so the goddess could touch one of her horns. Ghilan'nain gasped as she gingerly brushed her fingertips over a horn and then withdrew her hand, stepping back and speaking quickly. Astlyr felt lost without the language. Cole tried to fill in, though it was clear that the newest deity was also able to block him from her thoughts, "Her mind is muddled. There are pieces of the halla still inside. Bits of paper clinging to the binding. What was I? She wonders how you came to be. In her time there were no qunari. In her mind she calls you 'daughter of the dragon. "
"Apparently that's what elves call me," Astlyr said with a shrug. "So...what now?" she looked between the goddess and the giant stone wolf, who still sat watching over them, once again twitching his tail.
"Let us first deal with my friend," Fen'Harel said, looking to the stone wolf.
"Does he have to go back to being stone?" asked Cole, concern evident in his voice.
"Not if he does not desire it," Fen'Harel said. The wolf lowered its head and Fen gave it a pat. "He may remain awake, as it were, though it might be dangerous for him. He is not... stealthy. It is likely he will be discovered and studied or put to work, or deemed a threat and destroyed. He may also choose release. He has lived many years and seen much of this world. Perhaps he is ready to leave it."
"You mean he was aware all the years that he sat here guarding that foci? All those ages?" Dorian gasped.
"Yes," Fen'Harel spoke quietly, looking ashamed. "There was no other way."
"Would he like to come with us to Skyhold?" Astlyr asked, eying Alun. For something so huge and seemingly dangerous he looked quite docile.
"Tell me aren't already considering riding him into battle," Varric snorted.
"She is," said Cole. Astlyr wasn't certain if the boy had plucked the notion from her mind, or whether he simply knew her well enough to anticipate her flights of fancy.
Astlyr shot the spirit boy a mock warning glare. "He would have to remain outside the fortress, but I imagine having a large stone wolf at our disposal would be extremely useful. A perfect guard dog if you will."
Fen'Harel smiled, "I admit I had hoped you might suggest such a scenario." He turned to the wolf and spoke to it. It raised its head and looked at Astlyr, then its tail wagged again and nearly took out a small tree. It leaped over to her, somehow managing not to tread on her team as they scattered to avoid stone paws, shouting in disgruntlement. The wolf lowered its head, obviously expecting Astlyr to give it a pat as well. She laughed and petted the cold stone.
"It looks as though we have a new member of the Inquisition," she chuckled as she petted. Nearby the horses looked exceedingly alarmed.
"Maker's blessing," Cassandra groaned, but she too stepped up to run her gauntletted hand over the stone animal's side. "He does seem friendly enough."
"He's so happy to be able to move again," said Cole. The spirit reached up and placed his hand on Alun's nose. The two seemed to commune silently for a long moment.
"Are we really bringing that thing home with us?" Dorian asked, highly skeptical.
"It's better than letting him roam the Emerald Graves, isn't it?" Astlyr questioned. Alun turned towards her, grey eyes seemingly fixed on her, though they had no pupils. The wolf's tail gave a small wag, careful not not to strike any of those gathered around it.
"He would be lonesome if we left him here," said Cole. "He's been lonely. Watching everything go by. Seasons stack on seasons like old books and gather dust and decay."
"Alright, I understand," Dorian forestalled Cole before he could fall into a full ramble. "Wonderful, now I feel guilty for even considering leaving him."
Astlyr chuckled. Then she turned back to look at Ghilan'nain. The goddess was standing with Fen'Harel, speaking in low tones. Her elegant head dipped low, perfectly shaped lips moving rapidly as they conversed in their forgotten tongue. As if to further punctuate the woman's beauty a light snow was beginning, landing delicately in her hair like shimmering decoration. The flakes were small, and a wind was picking up, so Astlyr knew that the weather would turn for the worse soon enough.
She cleared her throat, uncertain. One god she felt confident with, though it had taken a while. What to do with two? Ghilanl'nain had, however, saved Astlyr's people from a gasping, unpleasant death. She felt compelled to trust her. She wasn't certain what the next step might be. Fen'Harel spoke to her, raising his blue eyes to meet hers with the bright intensity she had come to know from Solas. "It would be best, I think, to bring Lady Ghilan'nain back to Skyhold with us."
"Should we take her immediately or do we seek the other foci first?" Astlyr questioned, her mind already working like a battle commander's. Rearranging the guard detail, assigning another Templar to watch over this new 'guest'. Their templars were already few and far between. Something occurred to her. "Er, is Lady Ghilan'nain a mage?"
"She is," Fen'Harel nodded once, businesslike.
Astlyr cursed inwardly and she heard Cassandra take in a tight breath, but bite back her concern. The two women thought enough alike for Cas to know that she and the inquisitor shared the same worries on the subject. "What sort of mage?" Astlyr questioned.
"She was trained in an ancient style."
"Can a templar stop her?" Cassandra's tone was practical as ever in the face of Fen's vague response. Her severe brows were knit together, tightening a crease between her eyes.
"I believe a templar would be as effective with her as with any modern mage. She was trained in a time when our connection to the Fade was much stronger. The veil thinner. Now she is limited by the very things that limit every modern mage."
"Who are you calling limited?" asked Dorian, obviously deciding that it was time to lighten the mood.
Ghilan'nain looked at the tevinter mage and muttered something to Fen'Harel. He spoke shortly back to her and she nodded. Astkyr watched this exchanged as she felt snow collecting on her armor at the back of her neck. Her body heat would cause it to melt, and soon a little trickle of cold water would find its way down her spine. Disadvantages of wearing armor in snowy weather. "Will she harm us?"
"No," Fen'Harel met her gaze again. She sighed. What a pity he had a reputation for lying. With all this god business she deeply wished that the person she most needed to trust was not the one she was least certain of. Cole had been correct, she did forgive those who lied to her, but she also never forgot. No use letting someone use the same trick twice. She shook her head, wearily.
"Should we not seek out more foci immediately?" Cassandra questioned.
"I don't like the look of those clouds," Dorian pointed out as the snow began to fall more heavily. "Unless our lady of the golden deer is a weather mage of some kind, we might be best served to retreat to shelter for the day to discuss this further."
"Where is the next foci you know of?" Astlyr questioned, uncertain she liked the idea of an unknown mage, goddess or no, following her team around as they quested. Her people had a rhythm. A time-tested way of doing things, and babysitting an elven deity was not something she had anticipated dealing with.
"I am afraid it is located in the Western approach," Fen'Harel admitted.
"You do not know of any that are nearer?" Cassandra asked, clearly taken aback.
"None that I am certain remain hidden," Fen'Harel replied. "I know that many have been discovered, relocated, sold, and claimed in the ages while I slept."
"At least that should make it more difficult for Mythal to find them," Astlyr pointed out.
"This is true. I believe that she is unaware of the one in the Approach. Dirthamen was one of the last that I hid. She was not privy to its location."
"Wait, Dirthamen? The one from the map picture in the temple?" Astlyr raised an eyebrow.
"Yes," Fen'Harel nodded. "He may be an important ally indeed, as he is the brother of Falon'Din. The god whose foci June reclaimed yesterday."
"Maker's balls," Astlyr groaned. Nothing with these damn elf gods was ever simple. Asltyr let her head tip back so she was looking at the sky. The snow fell against her face, melting and sliding like tears down her cheeks and jaw. Her mind fished for something, anything, that was in her control. "Shelter," she mumbled.
"What was that M'gel?"
"We should find shelter, then discuss all this further," she said, turning and striding over to Smoke. She brushed snow from his saddle with her gloved hand and mounted up. "We'll make for Fairbank's old camp. It's near."
"Right," Cassandra said, climbing nimbly into the saddle. When much of the team have achieved their mounts Astlyr turned to the two elves, still standing together. "Erm...what do we do with her? Can she ride Cole's horse?"
"I will teleport ahead to the camp," the Spirit boy offered. "I'll light a fire and make sure everything is ready for you."
"Use caution," Astlyr warned. "If you see any trouble there, any sign of Venatori, or worse, you come back to us. Understand? Do not engage them."
"Yes," Cole said with a firm nod that made his hat brim flop. Drawing his daggers as a precaution, the boy vanished in a swirl of snow.
Ghilan'nain watched this, mumbling something to Fen'Harel. He answered her, then looked back to Astlyr, "She is merely curious about the spirit in our company, so clearly valued as an equal." he paused, considering the horses. He asked the goddess a question, and seemed to be explaining the situation. Finally she nodded. "She wishes to ride alongside me."
Astlyr agreed and untied Shadow's reins from Smoke's saddle. She tethered the old horse to Fen'Harel's mount and helped the lady Ghilan'nain to clamber up. The goddess looked exceedingly uncertain about the whole situation, but obliged.
Soon the party was on the move as the snow began to come down more heavily. Astlyr hoped that the bad weather would only last the night. They did not need another blizzard to trap them in The Graves. She gave the sky a warning glance as she rode. She kept a careful eye on the landscape, knowing that Myfanwy was doing the same. There was no sign of any human enemies, though she did spy a wolf pack moving some distance off. The animals did not approach, clearly not eager to tangle with her. Though the wolves in this area could be hostile, they usually kept clear. No bears in sight, Astlyr noted with relief.
Perhaps the wildlife was intimidated by Alun, who walked some distance behind the group, Astlyr mused. The horses tended to spook if he drew too near and poor Dorian had nearly been unhorsed when Dandy decided to try to bolt. The horses were used to all manner of threats, from dragons to giant bears, but seldom had to walk along with such creatures. No doubt Smoke wondered why Astlyr did not slay the beastie. Alun seemed to have a decent understanding of the situation and kept well back.
Shortly they reached the old stronghold which had, during the autumn months, been inhabited by deserters from Orlais. The people had since moved on to a more permanent fortress, leaving the camp behind. It was nestled in a chasm which Fairbanks had roofed as best he could with old planks and leather tarps. It would make a suitable camp for the night at least. If the weather did not become too extreme.
Cole had been as good as his word, and when Astlyr and her people had situated the horses in one of the smaller structures which had made temporary homes for Fairbank's men, she saw appreciatively that a fire was crackling away in the main area. A waterfall cut very near this camp, but Cole had carefully placed the fire as far from it as he could, so the cold and damp of the rushing water would not disturb the group. Astlyr gave her spirit friend a big smile of thanks and his own lips flicked up in an answering grin before he fell back to his usual expression of barely contained misery.
The group settled in, though they gave Ghilan'nain a suspicious wide berth. Alun, of course, had been too large to join them in the camp, but being made of stone he lay quietly outside and settled to wait out the storm without any sign of concern. For her part the goddess sat daintily and said little. She watched everyone with her dark, intense eyes as the group set about preparing dinner.
The friends remained quiet, speaking only when necessary. However, once bellies were full and everyone was warmed by the fire, a low chatter began. Astlyr smiled. It was a rare thing indeed for her crew not to banter. A general amiability prevailed. Once these people had been distrustful of one another. There were still pricklings with some. She thought of Blackwall and Vivienne. Both still a touch distrustful. Or how Cas had once felt that Dorian was nothing but a self involved dandy until he had proved otherwise to her again and again. Astlyr could not hide a sad grimace as she thought of Sera.
Then Myfanwy spoke, a quiet, steady voice. Telling a story. Everyone immediately stopped chatting and sat down to listen as though this were the most perfectly natural thing in the world. She watched the fire dance as she related a tale, "the Dalish tell of how Ghilan'nain became a god. She was one of The People, like us..." she told of a cruel hunter, and a curse. Of an elvish maiden who sought fairness for all creatures and was blinded and bound for her trouble. How her faith was eventually rewarded with godhood. Then Myfany turned to Fen'Harel, her expression expectant, "is any of that true?"
Fen'Harel looked troubled. His shoulders hunched as he lost himself in a look of distant concentration. "There was a hunter, but he did not murder a hare...he...I can't remember," he spoke in elvish and Myfanwy flinched, giving the others an apologetic look which told Astlyr that the god had just used some rather extreme profanity.
Astlyr couldn't help it, she looked to Cole. He was fast becoming her walking lie detector. The spirit boy's face was all but obscured by his hat, but he must have sensed her concern because he answered her unspoken question, "There are gaps. Piece torn out, ripped like flesh that won't scar over. Red and raw, bubbling with old blood. She took parts of me away and it will not heal."
"So Mythal did steal pieces of your memory?" Astlyr questioned.
"Yes," Fen'Harel said, miserable.
"Can we ask her ladyship over there?" Varric questioned, gesturing to Ghilan'nain, who was examining her portion of crusty bread, dried fruit and of cooked rabbit as though food were a foreign concept. Astlyr wondered if the woman was secretly craving fresh green grass.
Fen'Harel spoke to the goddess, who lifted her head to listen. She blinked lazily a few times, then answered shortly. Fen turned back to the group, "it was not a hare that made her enraged," he said. "It was a spirit that the foolish hunter had attacked."
"A spirit?" Cole raised his head, his wan face finally visible.
"Yes. I believe that in our time spirits were far more prevalent than they are now. She was rewarded for her kind actions towards them with her godhood."
Cole shot Astlyr a sideways glance. She suspected the boy was already warming to this new deity. Any friend to spirits was a potential friend to Cole. Astlyr gave him a quick smile. She had to admit that Ghilan'nain was seeming more trustworthy by the hour.
A loud squawk sounded above Astlyr before she could ask for further details. She looked up to see two crows had decided to take shelter from the winter storm in the makeshift rafters. Her eyes caught a glint of red. "Messenger birds," she stood, holding up her hand to the creatures. She gave four whistles, the notes that assured the birds that she was a friend.
The crows both came obediently to her arm and lighted there. One picked at a tunic button while the other preened itself. Astlyr reached for the little message tube attached to the button chewer's leg. It gave her hand a quick peck. "Ouch." Astlyr withdrew her fingers as her friends chuckled.
"You forgot the second sequence," Cassandra reminded Astlyr in an amused tone.
"Oh. Right," Astlyr said, feeling stupid. She did not normally have much interaction with the feathery beasts. They were usually dealt with by the spies or Josephine, and the information they brought would be given to Astlyr later.
The qunari whistled again, hoping she had the notes right. When she reached for the message this time she was not bitten, though the crow still watched her with one piercing yellow eye. She slid the tiny, rolled paper from the tube, turning to her friends. Varric caught her intention before the others and stepped up to take the note from her. He unrolled it carefully, squinting in the firelight. "It says: For the Inquisitor- Found."
"Found?" Myfanwy cocked her head.
Astlyr understood, and by the dawning expression in Cassandra's face, so did she. The others caught on quickly. "Those mages," said Cole, a coldness to his voice that made Astlyr shudder though she knew the spirit boy's wrath was not aimed at her. "Those mages who hurt people."
"It seems we have located them," Astlyr confirmed, taking the note from the second bird, just in case. Varric unrolled it, but it had the same message. "It seems we had best return to Skyhold. Judgment must be rendered, and soon." She felt her heart tighten as if caught in someone's grip. What would she do with the mages? There would be an outcry for blood. Would she answer it? She tried to push these worries from her mind for the moment. "We'll stay here tonight. The storm is too bad to travel after dusk. Come the morrow, however, we ride out, no matter what the weather is doing."
The group fell back into quite chatter. Astlyr sat with her knees up and her elbows resting on them, introspective. Cole came and plopped down beside her, long legs crossed. He whispered to her, "you never killed anyone."
"What?" she asked, her own voice as quiet as his. "I've killed lots of people."
"You've killed people who were attacking you or attacking your friends. You never killed anyone when you sat on the big chair." he picked absently at a hole in his tunic as he spoke.
"I suppose you're right," Astlyr agreed, thinking back to all the times she had sat in judgment. Even the man who had used time magic to show her a future in which her new friends were tortured and killed in horrible ways, had not met execution at her hand. He could be put to better use being studied and researched by one of Fereldan's largest magical colleges.
"You don't want them to think you're a monster," Cole said, pulling at a loose thread until it snapped. His voice fell into its tumbling cadence as he read her pain. "They look up and see a monster on the throne. Horns and strength and they're afraid. They don't want me to be their chosen and they wonder if their god made a mistake, and I sit and contemplate their fate. If I murder them with my hands the people will see that they were right. They'll think I thirst for blood like the barbarians with horns that they tell of in the tales. Slaughter and laugh. Murder children and families. Blood on stone and my blade."
"That's not the only reason I spared people," Astlyr corrected him.
"Yes," Cole nodded then, his nose wrinkling slightly as he reached deeper into her pain. Seeking something that was obviously buried below her insecurity at being qunari. "You like second chances," he said, tilting his chin up to look her in the face. "People deserve second chances. Try again and be better. Even if they're evil they can do good again. They can't help anyone if they are dead, so keep them alive and make them atone. Let them atone," he gave her a thin smile, then looked back down at his knees. He held his slender hands loosely in his lap. "Those mages can't atone. The people won't want them to. They'll want you to kill them."
"I know," Astlyr said, her chest tight. "I know."
The night passed and the new day thankfully brought a break in the bad weather. The night's fresh snow mounded itself in the doorway of the chasm as Astlyr's group tried to leave their camp. Fortunately Alun was there to dig them out. He moved the snow with alarming speed and stood waiting, gigantic tail awag. He greeted Cole with a little yip of pleasure, and nuzzled Fen'Harel so hard that he knocked the elf over, much to the amusement of the group, even as Myfanwy hurried to help her god back to his feet and brush off the snow.
The wind on the ride back to Skyhold was biting. It had piled great drifts of snow in their path. Smoke plowed through most, muscular legs surging. Astlyr glanced at the grey, morose sky. She had sent the messenger crows back to Skyhold with a brief note indicating that she was on her way. She suspected that she would be expected to render judgment as soon as she reached the fortress and she braced herself as best she could. She could not shake the uneasily sinking of her stomach.
Two days' ride saw the fortress before them, tall and proud. Astlyr had to send Cole teleporting up to the wall to inform the guards that the stone wolf traveling behind them was not a threat. She knew that arrows were aimed none the less, though such projectiles would do nothing to harm the creature. Alun situated himself outside the gate and settled into the snow as though perfectly willing and eager to play guard dog.
As Astlyr led her team down the long bridge to Skyhold's main gate and gave instructions. "Cassandra, please introduce our latest guest to the guards and ensure that they understand that she is to be watched, as Fen'Harel was. One mage and one templar." Cassandra was no doubt interested to hear the judgment against the terrorist mages, but duty would come first at all times.
"Does this mean I shall no longer be under scrutiny?" Fen'Harel asked.
"I've decided to trust you, for better or worse," Astlyr sighed.
"For that I thank you," the elf dipped his head to her.
"Don't make me regret it," she growled, already feeling all her muscles tense. She could sense the guards watching her, already eager to find what her judgment would be. "Myfanwy, will you accompany them?"
"Of course," the elf nodded. Everyone dismounted in the courtyard, stable hands waiting and ready to take their horses.
Guard Captain Jones hurried up to greet them. She now wore better armor and an expression that Astlyr assumed was supposed to be authority. She felt her mouth twitch with slight amusement. Jones was too good natured to make a natural leader. Her round face was bright and friendly. "Good to see you back, ma'am."
"Good to be back. We have a new guest," she gestured to Ghilan'nain who was taking in the fortress with wide eyes. "This is Lady Ghilan. You are to treat her with the utmost respect. She does not speak our language, and she aided us greatly in our quest."
Jones knew better than to asked for details. Guards were not privy to the comings and goings of Skyhold's inquisitor. They merely had to trust that when she went out to adventure it was with good reason. Astlyr carefully elected not to mention how many times her 'adventures' entailed rounding up stray pets or locating someone's mother. She had even stumbled in on more than one romantic interlude, which she would not be proud to admit. "Yes ma'am," Jones was saying, saluting smartly. "This way if you please, my lady," she gestured. Myfanwy and Cassandra moved off with Jones and Ghilan'nain.
"Do you wish to accompany them?" Astlyr questioned Fen'Harel.
"I think I had better," Fen'Harel modded, following the small group. "I do not wish her to be confused and afraid."
Astlyr winced inwardly, wondering what a frightened goddess might do to her beloved Skyhold. She glanced at the mage tower. Repairs were clearly underway. Scaffolding stood out at various points around the outside. Most of the largest holes in the stone had been patched neatly back into place. Astlyr wondered how the inside was coming. There had been far more internal damage. She did not have time to ponder this long, as Cullen strode towards her. "Astlyr...Inquisitor," he corrected himself, remembering the severity of the situation. "The Chargers returned three days ago with the fugitive mages."
"Iron Bull found them? Do they still have all their limbs?" Astlyr questioned, moving to walk with the templar towards the stronghold.
"By some miracle they are. Though they do look a bit worse for the experience." Cullen explained as he led the way at a brisk pace.
"Have the mages said anything in their defense?" she asked, adjusting her stride so she would not overtake Cullen.
"Very little, aside from occasionally ranting about how foolish we all are for following the insane leaders who would destroy their circles."
"Lovely," Astlyr rolled her eyes.
Astlyr was aware of what remained of her party following her. She was certain that they were all curious what judgment she would bring to bear on the people who had attacked their home. Astlyr was curious as well. Her mind churned with a thousand possible answers, but none of them seemed right. Her thoughts always swung back around to an image of herself, sword raised to separate a head from a body. There was always Tranquility, but the notion made her sick. Though she had never experienced the fear of the rite herself, she knew how it terrified the mages. How each one lived in terror of the punishment. Tranquility was a relic of a time best forgotten, though still painfully fresh in everyone's memories.
As she marched into the main hall she saw that people were already beginning to gather. Word must have gotten around that she had returned as soon as the guards on the wall had spied her. Cullen looked a bit apologetic, "They've talked of nothing but your return since the mages were brought back." he admitted.
"Good to see you, Inquisitor," Josephine called, waving her feather quill in a cheery greeting. She seemed to be in surprisingly excellent spirits as she hurried up to join the group.
Astlyr shot a quizzical look at Cullen and he gave her a quick smile. "Blackwall returned while you were gone as well and he...had a conversation with Lady Josephine."
"I see," Astlyr raised her eyebrows expressively. Cole looked ready to clarify the situation and Astlyr shot him a deadly glance. The diplomat would not thank the spirit boy for blabbing her personal life in front of a gathering crowd.
"I had best fetch our prisoners," Cullen said, turning to go.
"Bring the templar, Titus, as well," Astlyr instructed, watching Dorian out of the corner of her eye. She felt a bit guilty passing judgment on the man while her mage friend was present, but it only seemed logical to deal with the lot of the prisoners all at once. Cullen snapped a smart salute and moved off through the crowd, heading for the passage down to the dungeons.
Astlyr stepped onto the dais feeling in the same moment as though someone had laid a thick yoke across her neck. She was still wearing her armor. This was intentional. She wanted to look her most powerful before the three people she was about to judge. She swept a few stray hairs back out of her face, standing tall. She could tell by the ripple of talk that rushed through the gathering that she cut an impressive figure. Even Josie's eyes widened. It was not every day a fully armored qunari stood in that place, especially with Astlyr avoiding the throne as often as possible. She considered sitting, perhaps taking up a careless slouch, but decided standing was more intimidating in that moment.
The prisoners were brought in, the three mages flanked by stern templars. Titus brought up the rear, led by Cullen himself. The prisoners were lined up side by side before Astlyr. A hush fell over the room and Astlyr felt her skin prickle with sweat. She fought to keep herself together. Glancing at the crowd she saw her inner circle standing at the front with Blackwall, Iron Bull and his Chargers. Cole was watching her intently and she felt a bit better. For a moment her eyes sought and met Cullen's. They seemed a striking gold color at this distance and he met her gaze with a confident steadiness that she valued more than any hand to hold. She shifted, cleared her throat and spoke. The command in her voice surprised even her.
"You four stand here accused of conspiring to attack Skyhold's mage tower, and of the death of five youths who were inside the tower at the time of the attack. Do you have anything to say for yourselves before I render judgment?"
For a long moment the mages said nothing. Titus was the one who spoke first, his voice surprisingly firm, though he was shaking visibly. Without his templar armor he looked all the more like a simple country lad. "For my part in this attack I am truly, truly sorry. I stand ready to face whatever judgment the inquisitor might bestow upon me with a willingness to face my actions." He straightened, shoulders square, and Astlyr saw a hint of what Dorian might see in the man. Astlyr could not help but picture Blackwall, shackled and broken, standing before her and asking for his judgment. 'You forgive them,' Cole's voice echoed in her thoughts.
"Titus, as a templar it was your duty to watch over these mages, but also your sacred vow not to allow them to harm others. You may not have aided them in their attack, but you are culpable for failing to come forward and inform us of their intentions." Titus met her eyes, his jaw set. She suspected he had been mentally preparing for this for some time. Astlyr glanced at Dorian and saw him watching not her, but Titus with a grim expression on his face. Her voice echoed through the hall again. "It is my judgment that you shall serve the rest of your days here, under the command of Cullen and the other templars. You will be stripped of any rank you may hold and will be re-trained in your duties. You will swear you life to the protection of the mages of Skyhold. If such a time should come that you should lay down your life for them, you will do so."
"Yes ma'am," Titus answered a little uncertainly. Obviously he was not sure how to best respond to the judgment he had clearly not expected. "Thank you, Madam Inquisitor."
Astlyr gauged the crowd. Josephine wasn't whispering urgently in her ear, so she knew she must not be doing too badly. She looked over the three mages, forced to kneel before the dais by their templar guards. For their part the men and women of Skyhold's templar ranks looked utterly disgusted with the three.
The eldest of the three mages was shooting a scathing glance towards Titus. Her lip curled in obvious disgust. "Tenplars were loyal once," she spat. "Do you see what happens when circles are broken? When templars forget their duty? You should never have betrayed us, Titus."
A few shouts when up from the crowd. "My son was in that tower, you bitch!"
"How dare you attack your fellow mages!"
"You will pay for what you did to our home!"
"You're all fools and idiots!" squawked the other female mage, trying to rise and being forced back down by the templars who held her. "The circles were flawed, of course, but they were better than this chaos! The chantry in shambles, mages forgetting their place! You follow a demon whose people cut out the tongues of mages and sew their mouths shut! Where will this all lead? A lesson must be taught!"
More enraged shouting from the crowd.
Astlyr raised a hand and was pleasantly surprised when everyone fell silent. She bit her tongue. Her mind raced. She should speak. Render judgment. She could feel everyone in the hall leaning forward, ready for her verdict. Did they all wish her to kill these three mages? Did some still wish to see their merciful inquisitor again? She spoke her thoughts aloud, "I have never executed anyone in my time as your Inquisitor. I would rather not begin now," there were a few dissenting shouts, but they were quieted hastily. "I cannot imprison these three as to do so would draw valuable manpower from our already limited templar ranks. I will not ask for these mages to be made tranquil, nor will I ever support tranquility here at Skyhold." More muttering, though some sounded pleased this time.
Astlyr hesitated again and felt something pushing at the back of her mind. Her hand prickled. Whether she knew it or not she had decided somewhere deep inside of herself. "For your crimes against Skyhold and Fereldan; Kes, Devon and Winter, you are hereby sentenced to banishment." An uproar began then.
"You can't let them go!"
"They'll only find a way to hurt others!"
"What are you doing, Inquisitor?!"
The noise grew louder and Astlyr raised her left hand, but not for silence. Instead she dug her fingers into the veil. She brought her elbow back, as one drawing a bowstring, and the Fade tore open like a raw wound. There was gasp from the crowd as green light bathed them. Astlyr did not stop to look at the faces of her friends. She would deal with their feelings on her judgment when the time came. "I banish you to the Fade, to live out whatever meager lives you may have left therein."
All three mages stared completely agape, rendered dumbstruck as they took in the Fade tear. The edges of the rift rippled like the teeth of an angry monster. The hall was utterly silent, as if a spell had been laid over them. The templar guards did not move a muscle until Astlyr strode down to them and wrapped her hand around the dark haired mage's upper arm. "Remove their shackles."
One of the templars seemed to remember himself and hurriedly unlocked the cuffs around each mage's wrists and ankles. Then Astlyr guided the first of the three to the waiting rift. It hovered slightly off the floor, so the woman would have to step up to get inside. Her face was ashen and she shook violently. She looked ready to be sick, or pass out, or both. Astlyr practically picked the woman up, ushering her inside. "You had best hurry. The rift will attract demons and you want to be well on your way before any of those show up." The mage gave a frightened squeak and dashed away into the green and black world of the Fade, splashing through shallow water without waiting for her companions.
"Alright. In you go," Astlyr said, ushering the remaining two forward.
The other woman, (Kes, was it?) turned to Astlyr with a pleading expression. "Please, no! We'll die!"
"You may live," Astlyr said, coldly. "I did. Just mind the giant spiders." She gave Kes a firm shove and the woman tumbled into the Fade with a cry. The young man followed almost willingly, as though he knew his 'friend' would leave him behind if he did not keep up.
Once all three were inside the Fade Astlyr raised her left hand again. Her mark blazed and pain surged through her arm to her shoulder. She gritted her teeth. It was a familiar feeling, the hunger in her to close the rift. The feeling of her mark calling for action. She closed her hand over the anchor and with a practiced jerk the rift was closed again as though it had never been. Everyone blinked as the green glow faded in an instant and the room seemed suddenly dark, in spite of the many torches and the light of the setting sun through the tall windows behind the throne.
No one spoke for a long moment. Astlyr might have heard a mouse's footsteps. It was as if everyone had forgotten to breathe. It was Josie who finally broke the silence. "Your Inquisitor has rendered her judgment." Her voice was dominant, certain.
It was as if her words broke the spell that lay over them all. People began talking to one another, some were already moving to go about their business. A few shouted towards Astlyr, but they did not seem committed enough in their opinion to come and speak to her. Astlyr's inner circle did, however. Vivienne broke away from the mages she had been standing with and joined Asltyr on the dais, "Well, that was certainly an interesting solution, darling."
Astlyr scanned the faces of her friends as they moved to stand with her. "Alright, I know you all have opinions. Just come out with them and be honest with me," she urged them.
"That was..."Dorian seemed flummoxed, "not what I expected. I suppose I don't know what I expected."
"I think you made one of the few choices you could have," Blackwall approved, his eyes drifting over the space where the rift had been.
"You sent them to the Fade," Cole's voice was very quiet.
"Cole?" Astlyr felt her skin go cold again. "Are you alright?"
"I...I don't know. I don't-" he wouldn't look at her and Astlyr's heart lurched as though she had jumped from the wall-top again.
"It's alright, Cole," Iron Bull spoke up, planting a heavy hand on the boy's shoulder, which sagged under the weight of it. "I think she made the right call, and one that only she could make."
"I do not know," Vivienne admitted, "if it was indeed the best decision. However, it has been made and we must all come to terms with it if we trust our inquisitor, as I am certain we all do."
"It was certainly unique," Josephine said.
Astlyr was still watching Cole. His face was hidden by his hat again and she longed to just pull it off so she could see. It felt so unfair that he could sense her pain, but she could only guess at his. "Cole?" she asked, cautiously.
"I need some time to think," the boy said. "Don't worry, Astlyr. I won't fade, I just...want to think."
"Alright," Astlyr answered, her throat tight. "I understand."
Cole teleported away. Bull shook the hand which had been resting on the boy's shoulder, then jammed it under his arm to warm it. "He'll be fine, boss. He just needs to process this. I think all of Skyhold needs to. Personally I like the idea. No one will be eager to mess with us if they know we can banish people to the Fade."
Astlyr was already feeling deeply uncertain. In the moment her choice had seemed like the only one she could have made, but now her mind fluttered with a thousand busy doubts and fears. Perhaps she should have imprisoned the mages, manpower issues be damned. Maybe in this one case tranquility would have been the best option. In her mind's eye she saw herself again raising a sword over the neck of one of the mages. Her stomach gave a lurch. If she wasn't so concerned about her image, would she have killed them? Watched their heads roll into waiting baskets without a care? Would she put the severed heads on spikes and mount them on the walls as a warning to others?
The path she had chosen would certainly spark much debate. Perhaps the queen would think twice before offering her any more titles. What if the people saw a different kind of monster? One that could throw open the Fade on a whim and cast unfortunates in? She felt a creeping cold rush through her and she tried her best to shake it as her friends gathered around her. Then a voice spoke near her ear and it took her buzzing mind a moment to realize it was Dorian. "Thank you." he said.
She turned to her mage friend, who was standing close at her shoulder. His dark eyes were expressive. "Dorian?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Thank you. For sparing Titus."
"He didn't deserve the same punishment," she said, shaking her head fractionally as she thought of the young man, so ready to face a worse fate than she had for him.
"He had expressed to me that if you did spare him, he would like to give up lyrium, as Cullen has, so that no one could ever control him with it again," Dorian said. "Would that be permissible?"
"Yes," Astlyr managed a thin smile, "as long as he is still able to serve the mages, I could never asked a man to continue an addiction he wishes to be rid of." Though Cullen had left with Titus to install him in the templar quarters Astlyr's mind's eye pictured the man, standing tall in the face of his own withdrawal. "Though he must understand that it can be extremely dangerous."
"He will be watched over," Dorian assured her. "He will want to fulfill his duty to Skyhold, and should it seem that the lack of lyrium will kill him, he will take it again."
"Alright," Astlyr nodded to her friend, giving his upper arm a squeeze. "Take good care of him, and be certain to let me know if you need anything. Use Cullen as a resource if you have any questions." She knew without asking that the commander would desire to aid the young templar in his endeavor. Dorian nodded, giving her a thin smile, he moved off.
Though her friends were still talking, mostly to one another, Astlyr extricated herself from the group. She headed for the nearest route to the wall to get some fresh air. She had no idea someone had followed her until he spoke. "I think I'm with the Iron Lady on this one, Pointy. That was pretty original."
"Varric! Maker's balls, you startled me." Astlyr gasped, turning to her friend. She had just opened the door to the wall and stepped out into the frigid dusk.
The dwarf flashed a winning smile and came to stand beside her, looking out over the landscape, as best he could at his height. He scanned the sky, squinting. Astlyr noticed how weathered his features were. The face of one who had seen more than he should have in his time. Lines creased around his eyes, though she knew they were forged by laughter. "Do you think I did the right thing?"
"I don't think there was a right thing," Varric admitted. "Looks like that storm followed us from the Graves," he pointed with a gloved hand towards the mountains where ominous clouds were gathering, looking ready to pounce.
"Damn," Astlyr sighed.
"Look, you made a call, and I think you'll find all of Skyhold willing to follow it. Some more than others. I'm a little interested to see what the Seeker thinks of all this, but yeah, you made a call and it got the job done. Hawke would have done the same. You can't make everyone happy."
Astlyr leaned against the edge of the lower portion of the ramparts feeling the icy breeze at her back. "How have you been Varric?" she asked, realizing she had not been alone with her dwarvish friend in some time.
"Holding up," the dwarf said, catching her meaning. He'd been more fragile after his best friend, Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall, had gone to his death in the Fade. "I miss him of course. We had the best banter, and there were so many details I wanted to ask him so I could get them right for the book."
"I'm sorry," Astlyr said, rubbing her eyes wearily.
"You made a call. It's your job," Varric said with a shrug. "And you didn't shy from it. Other people might have avoided me for a while after that, but you came right to me to make certain I was alright. You lead, and you accept your actions as leader, even if they might not be the right ones."
Astlyr didn't need to ask to know that Varric still felt that she should have left the grey warden in the Fade instead, even as he understood why she had not. If it had been possible Astlyr herself would have remained. Sometimes she still wished there had been a way. Let someone else lead Skyhold. They'd do a better job. She tilted her head back, taking in the darkening sky. Strands of deep purple, like magic, etched their way towards the sun, which seemed to retreat sleepily. "I suppose you're right, Varric. I made a call, we have to live with it. But I'm glad I have people like you around me. I truly am," he looked back down at him and met his eyes firmly.
"Don't get all mushy on me, Pointy. You don't want me putting that in your book, do you?" Varric chuckled as he smiled warmly. "People will find out that you're really just a big kitten with horns and then your whole reputation goes right out the window."
Astlyr laughed. "Wouldn't want that."
The two friends stood for a long while, watching the night creep over Skyhold and the storm move in to wrap everything in another blanket of snow.
***** If you're keeping track that's:
Vivienne Slightly Approves.
Cole Disapproves
Iron Bull Greatly Approves
Varric Slightly Approves
Dorian Approves (mostly about Titus)
Blackwall Slightly Approves
Yes, it's true, my big bad qunari Inquisitor never executed anyone in game! Granted, I did kill and reload because I wanted to see what would happen, but in the real playthrough she was a very non-murdery type. I felt like it fit better with the personality she was fast developing.
How about it? Did your Inquisitor execute anyone? If so, who?
Man I wish I could share next chapter with you nooooow! I think you're going to love it. I get back to the job of tweaking the lore to my liking! Sadly it is not quite ready for publication yet (still tweaking) so next week. Next fucking week everyone! *Hype hype*
As always, don't be afraid to comment. I love and treasure each one like I am some kind of comment collecting raven!
Next chapter: 4/30/15*****