****Imaginative chapter title is imaginative. Just as good as "Ambush" am I right? haha. Last chapter Astlyr and her friends were in peril. This chapter...still peril, but not quite as much ;)
Enjoy!****
Part 28
Healing
The demon was, fortunately, only a shade. Cole was on it first, slashing his twin blades into its raggedy flesh. Fen'Harel stepped up next, calling the sand to coil around the creature's lower half to hold it in place for the spirit boy. In mere moments the unfortunate shade must have severely regretted its sojourn over the dune. Astlyr actually felt a little sorry for it as it gave a pitiful cry as it crumpled to the sand, reduce to ash.
The demon dealt with Astlyr, clambered to her feet again, her body complaining the whole way. She was loath to free herself from Cullen's hand, but she knew she had to get back down to the rift. If demons were already finding their way to Astlyr's company it probably meant that the Venatori were dead, or as a good as.
She squinted down at the encampment. All of the tents were torn down and lay in shredded piles. There were patches of ice where mages had attempted to slow the fiery rage demons' progress. She could also make out large puddles of blood, even from this distance. The Venatori were not used to dealing with the angrier denizens of the Fade. This much was obvious. She could see their sloppy tactics mapped out across their ruined camp like the painted steps of a dance. She could also see the ugly green tear in the veil, just waiting for her to do her job. To sew it shut with the strange magic only she could wield.
"I have to get down there," she growled.
"You need healing," Fen'Harel said, she was a little surprised at his concern expression.
"See to the others. I need to close that rift," she said, narrowing her eyes as she wondered what would be the best way in.
"Healing first," the mage insisted, raising his hands to her.
"Varric needs you," she snapped. She wished he would stop distracting her. She was trying to concentrate on her plan of attack. She could still see a few of the larger demons stalking around, already sniffing out where she and her friends were concealed by the dune. More would tumble from the rift she knew. She chewed her lip, annoyed when she felt the soothing touch of healing magic, unwanted as it was.
"Where are the weapons?" she asked, noticing that Cullen had not succeeded in liberating any.
"There, I believe," Fen paused his ministrations to point as one of the toppled tents. He held out a hand, palm up, fingers crooked like a claw. With a sharp upward motion he jerked the sand around the tent and shifted the material enough that Astlyr could make out a toppled weapons rack. It might not be her gear, but it was better than nothing.
"Get everyone as patched up as you can," she instructed Fen'Harel, who fixed her with a scrutinizing gaze, "we're going to have to go down and close that rift. You knew that when you came up with the plan."
"Chuckles was responsible for this plan?" Varric spoke for the first time. His voice was a little slurred, but still bore its sarcastic edge, "no wonder we're having so many problems."
"I'll have you know, this is going well," the mage retorted, unable to hide the quick smile that flitted across his features.
"Your idea of 'well' is clearly different from mine," the dwarf mumbled, gesturing weakly to the pile of ash that had been the demon they had just slaughtered.
"What now?" Cullen came to crouch beside Astlyr, scanning the camp with a practiced eye.
"If we flank around to the left we should be able to get our hands on some weapons. Lucky us that I placed the rift so far from the weapons tent." Astlyr grinned grimly.
"Lucky," Varric snarked, once again proving that no wound could stall his wit.
"Or," Fen'Harel had a smirk still on his face, "we send Cole down and he can telelport back with your gear."
Astlyr bristled, "I will not allow Cole to go into danger like that alone. There are a decent number of demons down there, and an open Fade rift. I don't know for certain what it might do to him."
"I don't think it would harm me," Cole said, his voice level and utterly devoid of fear. It often struck Astlyr what was capable of making Cole afraid. Demons and Fade rifts were treated as mildly inconvenient, but emotional turmoil was cause for panic. She supposed that someone who came from a world so actively affected by the emotions of her own would likely be intimidated by them when he encountered them himself, where as demons were seen every day. She shook her head. "No. We go in as a team. Myfanwy, we'll need you. Can you figure out what to do with those creatures?"
"I'll try," the elf said, sounding and looking thoroughly annoyed by the dracolisks who still danced and tossed their heads wildly.
"I can help," Cole announced, teleporting up beside Thorn, who snorted loudly and clacked her teeth. She snapped at Cole when the boy reached a slender hand towards her, but the spirit was quick. "Hush," he whispered, touching his fingertips to the scales of Thorn's face. At first the action seemed to have little affect as the dracolisk squawked and threw her head back, eyes glinting. Then she lowered her head again suddenly calm. The other dracs each took a turn being graced with Cole's gift until they all stood still and docile as any well trained horses.
Cullen whistled low, impressed. "I forget you can do that sort of thing."
"Most people do," Cole shrugged, his glassy blue-grey eyes darting up to meet Astlyr's for a moment. She searched them for any sign of what the Venatori had done to him, but saw nothing.
"Are we ready?" Astlyr asked of her people. Fen'Harel moved from one to another, giving quick healing of their worst injuries. She locked eyes with Varric, "you should stay here. Someone needs to watch the dracs and you're head is the worst of any of us."
"Thanks, Pointy," Varric grumbled, trying his best to look insulted with blood all down the side of his face.
"Alright," Astlyr said, eying her sorry group. At least Myfanwy had her bow and Fen'Harel his staff. "It will be up to the two of your to keep the demons busy while the rest of us grab weapons," she addressed the elves. "Cole, I want you to stick with us. No teleporting ahead. We need you in the formation."
"Yes," the boy said, simply. He stepped in to the space he knew was his, slightly behind Cullen, who stood at Astlyr's right shoulder.
"Once we have our weapons the priority is closing the rift, so I will concentrate on that. The rest of you will have to keep the demons busy."
"Try not to get killed. I'd hate to have to ride in on one of these things and save all your asses," Varric said, gesturing to the quiet dracolisks.
"Right, let's save Varric the trouble," Astlyr gave everyone her best cocky grin, trying to imitate the Fen'Harel she had seen in the Fade. "Everyone ready? Good. Let's move."
The group skittered down the face of the dune towards the camp. Struck by the glaring sunlight Astlyr wished she had her head covering, as troubling as it was to put on. Fen had healed her wounds superficially, but much of her still ached. She tried not to let this distract her, or Cole for that matter, as she knew the boy sensed each twinge from herself and her comrades. She was impressed that he was keeping focused on the task at hand rather than trying to sooth everyone's pain.
The demons that were now milling about the rift looking a bit lost noticed Astlyr's group almost immediately, and moved to intercept with varying haste. Astlyr could see a particularly large pride demon had just lumbered from the rift, blinking small eyes as it took in its new surroundings. That would be a hassle, she thought as Fen and Myfanwy dispatched the frontrunners who were charging up to meet them.
With the mage and archer doing their best to keep the demons back Astlyr, Cullen and Cole reached the downed weapons tent in good time. Astlyr scooped up the nearest blade to hand, passing it back to Cullen she threw the tent fabric aside. A halberd was the next thing she saw and, though she had little experience with long weapons, it was better than no weapon at all. Cole reached under the tent and came out with a throwing dagger. He immediately launched it at a nearby despair demon as it drew too close. The creature fell, dagger lodged between between the eyes.
Astlyr swung her new pike around and skewered a larger monstrosity as it lurched towards her group. It was Cullen's turn to dig under the fallen fabric and toppled tent poles. He was seemingly not satisfied with the sword alone and soon located a shield. He also managed a shortsword, which he passed to Cole. The boy teleported to the ashy pile which was all that remained of the demon he had slain, and retrieved the throwing dagger. Another demon made a grab for him, but found itself transfixed by an arrow before it could even fully extend a claw.
"Cole!" Astlyr scolded, "formation!"
"I'm sorry," the boy teleported back to Astlyr and Cullen, this time staying tight with them.
Myfanwy was in rare form. Perhaps it was a mixture of desperation and adrenaline, but her marksmanship was impeccable. Astlyr did not see a single arrow miss its mark. Soon several demons resembled otherworldly pincushions. Astlyr turned her attention to the rift and the pride demon who now fixed her with small eyes like a beetle's. "Well now," it snarled. Astlyr gritted her teeth. She hated when they could talk. "What do we have here? A little creature who thinks it can face us? My my my." She could sense it already reaching, trying to search her mind and find how it might twist her, tempt her to its will.
"You must be new," Astlyr smirked, deftly dispatching an impish demon as it made an ill advised grapple for her legs. "I'm the Inquisitor. This is what I do." She reached for the rift, feeling the rush of pain as a green thread of Fade magic stretched out to connect her hand to the tear in the fabric of reality. The demon hesitated, seemingly baffled by her lack of fear and her sudden power over the rift. She relished its stupefied confusion as she tugged her arm back, the Fade magic surging up her arm with electric energy. The beast was standing too close to the rift, and as Astlyr balled her hand into a fist, drawing the tear back in on itself, the demon was sucked inside with a roar. Not a pleasant way to return to the Fade, Astlyr thought, but an effective one.
She jerked her elbow back and the green, churning magic vanished as though it had never been. An electric pain surged up her arm, then faded. She turned to the chaos still free in the camp and set her jaw. "Now to clean up," she muttered darkly, taking a position slightly behind Cullen's shield.
Astlyr and her men dispatched the rest of the demons with relative ease. Even Cullen, who hadn't been in the field with them in her prime rift-closing days, fell right into step. Well, she supposed, he did have a reason to find killing demons cathartic.
Once they were certain that every demon was reduced to a pile of ash with sand kicked over it for good measure, and that all the Venatori were dead or fled, they set about cleaning up the camp. Why waste good tents, weapons and food, Astlyr reasoned. First, of course, they removed the Venatori bodies to a safe distance and burned them as best they could without magical fire. Astlyr once again found herself missing Dorian. She wondered idly how her friend was doing back in Skyhold. Enjoying soft beds and no sand forcing itself into every fold of his clothing, she reasoned sourly as she helped pull the least damaged tent back to an upright position. Once the need for shade was seen to she and the others gathered Varric and the dracs. They managed to hitch the beasts, which were already starting to shake off their spirit-stupor, in the shade of what remained of the animal lean-to the Venatori had made.
With all this out of the way the group finally collapsed onto the sand in the tent they had erected. Astlyr's body finally gave in to the soreness and she let herself slouch wearily. Varric grunted as he took a spot opposite her. His face was still crusted with blood, but Myfanwy, the least weary of the group, set about gently cleaning it with warm water from a canteen. The Venatori had enough drinking water stashed about that it could be used frivolously.
Fen'Harel moved through the group, dispensing healing. He knelt in front of Astlyr, lifting a hand to her face his fingers hovered just above her skin, not touching, but spreading healing magic like paint. It felt cool and wonderful. Her head gave one last throb, as though unwilling to let the pain go, then settled at last. "See to the rest of my men," she stayed his hand before he could finish the hasty healing he had done on her other injuries. "Come back to me."
He met her eyes and there was understanding behind them. He gave her a quick smile with cracked lips. Everyone was generally looking sunburned and overheated. Fen'harel handed her a canteen. "We all need to rehydrate," he said, sagely before he want to do as he was bidden and heal the rest of the team before Astlyr.
Cole was also doing his rounds. Soothing pain with cool fingers and passing out water and little rations of salt to help with the dehydration. When he had finished he returned to Astlyr, and to her surprise, folded himself into her lap without a word. She didn't know quite what to do or how to react. Everyone stared at them. Neither Cole nor Astlyr had ever been seen to be quite so physical with one another. Astlyr was instantly ashamed of how awkward she felt, knowing the boy could sense it. She hoped he wouldn't take her thoughts as a slight, or a sign she didn't want him. Instead the spirit tucked up long legs and arms like a child seeking comfort.
Astlyr got the sudden sensation of something being drawn from her into him. A very small amount of energy. Nothing she would have even noticed if she had not been so intent on what was happening.
Cole finally seemed aware of all the eyes on him, and of Astlyr's bafflement. "Those mages," he began, "they wanted to know how I worked. They wanted to take me apart and see how I fit. Wheels inside wheels they said. Winding, wending, worrying it loose. They bit at me with their spells to try to make me break. I wouldn't. I couldn't. I made them confused, and being confused made them angry."
Fen'Harel paused in his healing of Cullen's rib. His hair had fallen over one eye, but his gaze with still intense, "they tried to turn you, Cole?"
"That's not what they wanted at first," the boy said. "They knew I was a spirit and they wanted to know how I could be me, walking around. How I had human form. I told them I was me and they didn't like that answer. Their magic was like hot iron sticking in my stomach. Trying to burn up my insides, but they couldn't reach them. I wished they would stop."
Astlyr found herself tucking Cole against her now, trying to give him even more of her energy. He could have whatever he wanted.
Fen crouched in front of the boy, holding out a hand he ran his own, green magic over Cole. Cole flinched, but settled as he realized Fen'Harel's spell was not hurting him. "It does seem as though he was magically attacked" he affirmed, "I doubt another spirit could have withstood it. Perhaps the amulet protected-"
"They broke my amulet," Cole said, in a pitiful, small voice. He reached under the collar of his shirt and pulled out the item. It looked mostly intact, but there was a noticeable chip taken out of it.
Fen'Harel carefully took the amulet, scrutinizing it. He let his magic skitter across the mottled surface. "I cannot be certain if the damage has caused it to stop functioning. I still sense a power within it. I believe something yet protects you, Cole. Otherwise those mages would have corrupted you with their magics." He let the amulet fall on its thin chain to settle around Cole's neck again.
Astlyr felt the boy sag slightly in her arms, obviously relieved. He had stopped pulling as much energy from her now, though he had not drawn more than a trickle to begin with. She still felt an odd connection to him. Like the nudging of the veil when she opened a rift. A gentle reminder that there was something more than could be seen in the world. "Now," Fen rocked back on his heels, flexing his fingers before going back to his healing, "Astlyr, would you feel comfortable telling us about this 'Spirit Companion' situation you mentioned to me earlier?"
Astlyr hesitated, but Cole made no effort to stop her. Instead he nestled down in her arms like a cat. She suspected he might even be wearing a slightly smug expression, as if to claim her as his own. Resting her chin on the top of his head she related more fully what Cole had discovered in the Fade that night in Skyhold. How he had concluded that he might be her Spirit Companion. Everyone alternated looking at her, and then at Fen'Harel, as though seeking confirmation from the elf.
When Astlyr had finished Fen'Harel had completed his healing and sat down, cross legged. The cool of the evening had faded, heralding the sharp cold of night in the desert. Cole had moved from her lap, helping locate where their food packs had been stowed, and doling out a meal. They did not light a fire. Instead they stayed in the tent, which was lit from within by the gentle glow of veil fire. Astlyr knew that they should set a guard soon, though she was certain that the dracs would set up a wailing if anyone approached. The creatures were still excited from the day and Cole's soothing gift had worn off. That, and the camp still smelled of death and demons, which would keep the local wildlife thinking twice about checking it out.
"So you and the Kid are bonded now? Or something like that?" Varric asked, popping a handful of dates into his mouth. He'd managed to locate the Venatori food stores, and they had not been stingy. "You had better not tell the Iron Lady. I think she'd insist on having you locked away before one or both of you turned into a demon."
"But I won't turn into a demon," said Cole, sounding a little hurt by the implication.
"I know that, Kid," Varric soothed, "but The Lady has always been, well, more than a little suspicious of you. Didn't she call you 'Demon' for several months?"
"She still does sometimes," Cole relented, sitting with his feet together and grasping them with his hands. "It's because she's afraid. Demons scare her, but she won't admit it. She wants to be stronger than them. She wants to scare away her fears."
"Oh Maker, wait until Sparkler hears," Varric went on, a good mood prevailing on his amiable features which were finally clean of blood. "He'll probably want to run tests, then consult with several hundred tomes. Can I put this whole thing in my book, Pointy?"
Astlyr chuckled, "as long as you let me see it before you publish. This particular subject is not one I am in a hurry to dramatize."
"The drama is the best part," Varric gesticulated grandly and Myfanwy, who was sitting beside him, stifled a chuckle. "A spirit boy, alone and lost, finds a friend and Companion in the rare snarky qnari."
"Rare indeed," Fen'Harel said. He was sitting almost perfectly still, meditative. Astlyr could sense a little Fade magic prickling around him. Perhaps he had called it to himself somehow. She wondered if he found it comforting. "I wish I could tell you more of this discovery, but-"
"Your memories, I know," Astlyr said, waving away the mage's concern. "I understand. Who knows, maybe what happened all those ages ago isn't even what Cole went through. There weren't qunari back then, and I have this," she held up her hand, the anchor mark barely visible in the wan Fade-light of the veilfire.
Fen'Harel's expression grew deeper still. Beyond mere scrutiny as he looked at the anchor before she lowered her hand again. His eyes followed it as she did so. She glanced at Cole, but he gave her a look which spoke of hidden thoughts and old pain, all that he was able to draw from the god.
"So, Kid," Varric broke the moment's tension, "why'd you pick Pointy? You and I are friends. Why not be my spirit whatever?"
"Companion," Cole correct, considering Varric's words. "Maybe because you can't be connected to the Fade. You always walk in this world and the other is locked to you. I need someone who can travel the Fade as well as this world."
"Hmmmm, so not dwarves. What about Chuckles then?" Varric gestured to the mage. "You and he were pretty good pals for a while there."
"Oh no, I-" Fen raised his hands in sudden protestation, but Cole cut him off.
"He's already got one. Protected like a pearl in the corners of his heart. She's gone now. Mist mingled in memory, muddy and muddled. Not what she was. Where did she go?"
Fen'Harel did not answer. He looked down, allowing his dark curls to obscure his face like a curtain. Astlyr felt her heart twinge. She could guess who Fen's Spirit Companion may have been. Wisdom. The spirit those idiot mages had carelessly corrupted into something twisted and terrible. Astlyr couldn't imagine what she would do to anyone who attacked Cole in such a way, but she suspected it would involve violence and lots of it. The boy sensed her sadness and moved to her, placing a slim hand on her shoulder. He did not press Fen'Harel for more details.
Varric too knew they were treading dark territory and changed the subject. He turned to Myfanwy, "So, how did you and Chuckles make your daring escape from the Venatori to come rescue us?"
Myfanwy's eyes grew wide as though struck with a sudden recollection which excited her greatly. She looked to Fen'Harel, who dipped his head in a nod, "as Astlyr was good enough to share her special discovery with us, you may share yours as well."
Astyr had to stifle a grin. Seldom had she seen the elvish woman look so excited. Myfanwy sat forward, drawing herself into the greenish firelight for emphasis. "When the battle began I was one of the first to be attacked, of course, as I was on watch. I managed to slip free with only minimal injuries. I sounded the alarm and tried to keep myself out of the middle of things. An archer is no good if she has no space to aim. I made it to the edge of camp, passing Fen'Harel's tent on my way. He came out and joined me. Our intention was to get the rest of you out of the kill-sack, but then we realized how many Venatori there were. Then they spotted us casting spells and firing arrows," she paused for dramatic effect, noting the pleased expression on Varric's face with a little smirk of her own. "Several came after us, but we managed to fight them off. Now both of us were injured and we knew we could not reach you. So..." she drew this moment out all the longer until Cole almost spoke it for her. Her words rushed out before the boy could spoil the surprise, "Fen'Harel changed into his animal form!" she grinned from ear to ear.
"His what?" Cullen asked, helping himself to a few dates from the little pack Varric was passing around.
"All of the elvhen gods were able to change into another form," Fen'Harel explained, obviously struggling not to look smug.
"His is a wolf," said Cole.
"I imagine so," Cullen chuckled.
"Sometimes he's a little wolf," Cole pressed on, a look of concentration on his wan features. "Other times he's...something else. They called him a demon, but he's not. Its bigger. Teeth and eyes and rage roiling over. Walking shadow of the one they created together."
"I didn't see that version," Myfanwy admitted, looking a little disappointed.
"Nor will you," Fen said, firmly. "Such a form requires a great deal of magical energy. Power which I do not currently possess. The battle last night was the first time I was even able to take on my lesser wolf form. Without my foci I cannot achieve the greater."
"So he turned into a wolf?" Varric asked. "That must have been a surprise. What happened next."
"It was even more surprising for the people attacking us," Myfanwy said, with a little smirk.
"Mages that can change their form are extremely rare," Cullen added, "I think I've only met one, and that was Morrigan. The Venatori can't have been expecting it."
"They were not," It was Fen'Harel's turn to wear cocky grin. His lips curled wolfishly in the light of the veil fire.
"He transformed and ripped out one Venatroi throat before they knew what was happening," Myfanwy said, getting into the story and talking with her hands, more animated than Astlyr was used to seeing her. Fen made a face as if to indicate how disgusting the throat ripping had been. "And were they ever startled when the wolf started casting spells!"
"You can cast in your alternate form?" Astlyr raised an eyebrow.
"I can, but it is extremely difficult," Fen'Harel folded his hands in his lap, returning himself to a posture of rest.
Myfanwy went on, "There were too many Venatori for us to reach you, and we wouldn't have surprise on our side for long, plus I was almost out of arrows. So Lord Fen'Harel led me away and we tried to work out a plan to save you."
"We appreciate it," Varric chuckled as he set out a few more loaves of the Venatori's fruit-filled bread and a bottle of good brandy for everyone to share. "From what I hear you were very heroic. Riding in on a bucking dracolisk. That's definitely going in the book."
Astlyr smiled at Varric's enthusiasm, but she turned her attention back to Fen'Harel. "Can you change into a wolf right now?"
The elvish mage looked apologetic, "I am afraid it would use more mana than I currently posses."
"That's alright," Astlyr reassured him, "we believe you and Myfanwy."
"I would like to see it some time," Varric grumbled, "so I can get the details right for the book."
"Have no fear, Child of the Stone. Now that I have recovered my wolf form it will likely come in useful again in our travels." Fen'Harel said, helping himself to a hunk of the hearty bread before leaning back against the tent pole.
"In the mean time..." Myfanwy rummaged through her things and pulled out a small sketch pad and charcoal. Many of her charcoal pieces had not survived the ordeal, but she managed to scrape together a few unbroken ones and began sketching madly. Varric leaned over her shoulder and they discussed his book, and the possible inclusion of her illustrations.
Fen'Harel finished his bread and settled in, sighing as he closed his eyes, obviously allowing weariness to claim him. Cole had gone outside to stand guard. Astlyr could almost feel his attention, his intense watchfulness. He was not about to allow them to be ambushed again. Her skin prickled slightly as she somehow knew he was reaching out with everything he had, scouring the dunes for ill intent.
Cullen came to sit beside her bearing more food and drink. "We all need to replenish our strength," he said, taking a long drought of water from a skin and handing it to her.
Astlyr took the water and drank. It was warmish, but still refreshing. Her whole body was aching dully, something Fen'Harel's magic could not touch. It would be a waste of mana to sooth every sore muscle. She flexed a shoulder, pressing fingers to the tight flesh. And then Cullen was behind her, rubbing her shoulders. She almost laughed aloud. What sort of gods had she pleased for them to bring her such a man?
Cullen was a warrior, and knew his was around a massage. Astlyr recalled her days with the merc band, when, after a good fight, they would work out sore muscles together. It was not a sexual activity, but rather a necessary one. It was also an excellent way to discover wounds you didn't know you had and cement bonds in the group. Cullen had certainly done such a thing as a templar. His hands skillfully found every place where a warrior's muscles might be tightest. Her shoulders, her arms, the small of her back. For a long moment she was content to melt with pleasure.
When he finished She gestured that he come and sit before her for his turn. This he did with a grateful smile. She was careful, as she kneaded his shoulders, not to press too hard. Men had often complained of her qunari strength nearly breaking bones. Though she knew this was mostly in jest, she still restrained herself.
"Astlyr," Cullen said, his voice soft so the others would not hear. Varric and Myfanwy were engaged in another drawing project like the co-conspirators they had been on The Griffin. The wolf had been sketched and now the dwarf was describing Corypheus to the young artist, testing her skill. Fen'Harel appeared to be asleep, or at least in deep meditation.
"Yes?" Astlyr asked, bracing a hand against his arm and using her elbow to dig out a particularly nasty knot.
Cullen grunted with pleasure as she worked, but voiced his concern. "You and Cole. You're...bonded?"
"Yes. Something like that. I don't quite know how it works." she admitted as her hands moved to coaxing free a tight band of muscle in his lower back. Then a thought struck her, "but it isn't romantic! Not even slightly! Cole clearly has no inclination towards that at all, and I would never...I mean, he's only a boy!" She made a revolted face which Cullen could not appreciate.
He turned slightly, chuckling as he looked up at her. The corners of his eyes crinkled in a sweet way that made her heart melt. "I know that, Astlyr," he reassured her. "I never assumed there would be anything romantic there. But...I am concerned. Does he...does he mind me at all?"
"What?"
"We're together now, and he and you have just discovered some sort of bond. I don't want to upset him. I'll...back off if I make him insecure. I know how much he means to you."
"Oh, Cullen," Astlyr's voice softened with adoration. "Cole," she called, so quietly there was no way the boy could have heard from outside the tent, but he appeared beside her in an instant, grey-blue eyes expectant. "Do you mind that Cullen and I are together?"
"No," Cole wrinkled his nose, "He makes you happy. You make him feel like dancing on the inside. I want people to be happy," he said, as though hers was the silliest question he had ever heard. He looked at Cullen, searching his thoughts for a moment, then a quick grin flitted over his face, "Astlyr has enough love for us both. She is very big after all." he said, then vanished in a puff of cool air and disturbed sand, back out to keep watch.
"There, you see, you absurd man?" she swatted his shoulder gently before returning to her massaging.
"You're absurd to-oooooooo," his words melted into a moan as Astlyr brought her fingertips to the back of his neck. "Oooooh...you have no idea how long that kink has been there."
"Would the two of you just get a tent?" Varric snarked, looking up from Myfanwy's drawings.
"We have one," Astlyr gestured to the canvas around them, smirking.
"Think of the children," Varric retorted, his eyes glinting with mirth.
"Cole's outside," Astlyr countered.
"Well dammit. What about my virgin eyes?"
"Your eyes are as virgin as I am."
"Can we please stop this?" Cullen pleaded, though he too was smiling. "Think of my virgin eyes!"
"You mean you haven't sealed the deal yet, Pointy?" Varric scoffed and Myfanwy snorted, trying very hard to keep her face down as she pretended to draw.
"Oh we did," Cullen assured the dwarf, "but she's so scary I had to keep my eyes closed."
They all devolved into laughter. The loud, almost desperate laughter of friends who have been hurt together and healed together. Who had recently overcome something that might have torn them asunder. They had laughed this way after every near miss, Astlyr realized. It must be important, this jollity after battle.
The friends finally settled in. Cole came to report that he had no indication of any more attackers. Venatori or otherwise. He urged his friends to get some sleep, though none were eager to. Each fearing, however irrationally, that another such surprise assault would come their way. Finally they settled on the usual guard rotations and Varric went out to watch with Cole for the first shift.
Astlyr lay down on her bedroll, not bothering to tuck herself inside it. If there was another crisis she was eager to be able to get up quickly. Cullen curled against her back, his arm over her, protectively. She thought of how absurd a notion it was, that she should need protecting. Yet she appreciated the gesture. The proclamation before everyone of his right to at least attempt to defend her. She smiled, feeling his warm body against her back. His lips brushed the nape of her neck, kissing the place where a knot of rope had held her. In this blissful position she let herself drift into slumber.
To her mild surprise she found herself in the Fade. This time she was not standing knee deep in roiling sands. Instead she was inside a tent, not unlike the one her body rested in in the waking world. Here, however, the tent wavered and rippled like water and she thought that if she touched it, her hand would pass right through. The tent was riding the waves of sand like a ship, up and over and down. Astlyr was glad there seemed to be no seas-sickness in the Fade because the tent was rising and falling quite vigorously.
A whimper caught Astlyr's attention and she turned to see the black wolf, Fen'Harel, walking towards her. He seemed to have been curled up in the corner. His tail gave a little wag, as though asking her forgiveness for invading her dreams. He looked up at her with diamond blue eyes, seeming uncertain. "Come on then," she said, sitting down on the rocking floor of the tent.
The wolf padded over to her, head low, and lay down at her side, resting his head on her knees. She rubbed behind his ear, which he seemed to enjoy. "You know this is weird, right? I mean, you're a person out there. In the other world. I'm scratching the ears of a person."
"I was always a person," the wolf spoke without moving its canine lips. Its eyes moved to gaze up at her and she was reminded of her old dog again.
"And I forget you can talk," she said, stroking Fen'Harel's soft head. "Are you alright?" she asked after a moment. His eyes had drifted closed and he lay, head on her leg, very still save for his breathing. Astlyr wondered why anyone had to breath in the Fade.
"I am," he reassured her, placing a paw on her thigh, "I am merely weary and in need of some company."
"I am good company," Astlyr chuckled. Having the wolf god to herself she decided to get a few answers to highly unimportant questions. "Fen...have you had many...you know, lovers in your travels?"
"A few. Nothing lasting," Fen said without hesitation. "I never stayed to reveal myself. Never bared my soul or shared my troubles. I let them rest their heads on my shoulder, and then I moved on."
"I see," Astlyr rubbed his shoulders were his fur was thick and a little courser. "Did you and any of your fellow gods ever...?"
"Of course. From time to time," Fen'Harel answered.
"You and Ghilan'nain?"
"We...we did. Yes. We broke our relationship off long before the humans came. When I began to see how my fellow gods were behaving and withdrew to the Fade to dream."
"What about Mythal?"
"My, we are nosy tonight," the wolf raised its head, ears pricked forward.
"You usually don't give me so many answers. I have to take what I can," Astlyr explained, matter-of-factly.
"You've caught me in a moment of weakness," the wolf huffed, laying its head back down. "Fair enough," it sighed, "Mythal and I were never romantic. We were friends, good friends, but her heart always belonged to another, and mine, well, mine would never let me be still. Never settle in or settle down, as she wished for her life."
"Interesting," Astlyr said, intrigued. "Er, Fen?"
"Yes, ma falon?"
Asltyr didn't know what he had just called, her and she guessed he must be weary indeed to be slipping into the elvish tongue. Still, she asked, a grin quirking her lips. "Can you turn into a giant shadow wolf here? Just to show me?"
"No," was his firm reply, but she could hear the smile in his voice.
"Oh well," she sighed resting a hand on his head. "Good sleep, Fen'Harel."
"Rest well, lethallan."
**** Another slower chapter (at least at the end).
Am I the only one friend-shipping Varric and Myfanwy so hard? Varric's books are going to become the best picture books ever! Or the most scarring...?
Yes, you heard correctly, Fen called Astlyr lethallan which can mean "kin". In his defense he was really really tired.
Also, apparently Astlyr is a battery now. Hook some jumper cables up to her. Now I can't stop picturing her with jumper cables attached to each horn. Oh gods.
Any of you out there in reader land artists? Anyone good at drawing Varric? I want a picture of Myfanwy and Varric being all adorable and working together and I don't know if I'll have time to draw one. However, here are some random sketches for y'all of Finna and a couple other DA OCs:
art/Finna-and-another-OC-538111007
art/Crow-Fallow-OC-538112142
Next chapter: 6/18/15
I'm only a few good writing days away from getting to the end of this book! If only I could get more than 30 mins of writing in at a time. Damn life. *Shakes fist****