***** Sorry the chapter is late. This week has been insane in the real world. I wish the real world would keep its grubby mits off of my fantasy. *****

Part 33

Fade Walkers

The next morning Astlyr woke in her chair where she had managed to awkwardly pass out. Dorian, it seemed, was feeling worlds better. He was already up, had thrown a blanket over her, and was reheating some of their abandoned food from the night before over her fire and with his gift. "Thought you might sleep all morning," he crowed, setting a large hunk of buttered sweet bread and some tea on the table near her. "Breakfast?"

"Shit, what time is it?" Astlyr glanced at the curtained windows, unable to see the sun.

"Mid-morn. I was about to wake you myself before you slept the day away." he snarked, plopping down in her other chair and tucking into his own breakfast.

Astlyr groaned as she stretched long limbs. "My first night back and Skyhold and there's a mage in my bed so I have to sleep in a chair. Seems I'm doomed never to be comfortable."

"All I hear is complaints from you, and I fixed this nice meal for us both. Now eat."

"Looks who's bossing today," She shot him an impish grin, then pulled her chair back to the table and settled in for a meal with her friend.

The two passed a pleasant morning, chatting and eating. When they had finished, Astlyr piled some food back onto the tray. "Oh, I almost forgot this. I brought you back a present from the desert."

"Oh gods, it's not a cactus is it?"

"Keep sassing me and we'll see what we can do," she smirked, moving to her packs, which had been brought up to her room by willing hands when she had arrived home. She passed him the wine bottle she had secreted away from the Venatori camp. "I have no idea if it is any good, but I thought a little taste of home..."

Dorian hesitated, holding the wine out, carefully reading the sand-buffed label. "Avanna..." he spoke to the bottle then looked up at her, dark eyes wide, "this...this is an excellent gift, My Girl. Thank you!" Rarely, if ever, did her friend use the full version of the pet name he had given her. He cradled the bottle as if it were a babe. "This...was made near where I grew up."

"So it's good?"

"It's swill," he laughed. "But swill that I was allowed to sip as a child at table. I never thought...thank you."

Asltyr felt uncomfortable and hastily changed the subject, "Come on, 'Vint, let's go relieve Cullen and see about your man."

Dorian paused, catching her eyes and giving her a suggestive waggle of his brows, "I admit I fell asleep at some point in your story last night, but I do recall a certain templar being extremely dashing and heroic."

Astlyr grinned from ear to ear. She couldn't have helped it if she tried. "He was. Very."

"Have the two of you had a chance to...work out the tensions of that situation yet?"

"Not yet," Astlyr picked up the tray.

"Well, no time to waste, M'gel! You go to that hero and demand he take you in a manly fashion." Dorian picked up the tea pot, lifting it by the handle he held his other hand below it, a small flame appearing on his palm to keep the liquid warm. "Day old tea is better than no tea at all," he commented, still grinning at her.

"How do you manage to make tea into a sexual innuendo?" Astlyr griped playfully as the two walked.

"Another of my many gifts." Dorian proclaimed.

Titus was looking considerably better that morning as well. He was awake and even sitting up in bed, speaking quietly to Cullen, who sat beside him like a trusty hound. The young templar seemed to be listening with rapt attention to the man he obviously, deeply admired. The two looked up as Astlyr and Dorian entered the room.

"Ah, good morning," Cullen greeted them brightly. Astlyr tried to hide a twang of annoyance that he managed looked somewhat rested while she felt like she'd been kicked all night by an angry two year old. "Feeling better?" he asked of Dorian.

"Much. Thanks in no small part to the motherly ministrations of your fine lady here," he dipped a comical bow in Astlyr's direction.

"You call me motherly again-" Astlyr warned, not even needing to finish. Dorian moved to place the table between himself and his friend, making a show of looked terrified.

The one who actually looked terrified was poor Titus. What little color he had regained drained from his face as he looked up at the Inquisitor. Astlyr flinched. It hurt to see the fear in peoples eyes, especially in one she wanted to help. She wasn't even certain if it was her title, or her horns, or some frightening combination of all her features, that made the young man shrink from her. She stood back, like one faced with a frightened animal. Cullen intervened, "Titus, you've never been properly introduced. This is Astlyr Adaar, Inquisitor of Skyhold."

Astlyr stepped uncertainly forward and extended a hand. She felt almost as shy as the man looked. She saw him swallow, faced with her hand, which was anything but small and dainty. Then he seemed to decide and slid his own hand from below the blankets. He shook hers with a firmness that surprised her, and she smiled, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you properly."

"L-likewise, ma'am," the templar stuttered, releasing his grip and staring at his palm for a moment as though uncertain he had taken back the same limb he had given out.

Astlyr turned to Cullen, who had risen from Dorian's chair and was selecting a portions of food from the tray. "What are your plans for the day?" she asked.

"Josie has already called for my help rallying the troops. I know the locations of the more far flung soldiers. Cas wanted to go over guard rotations now that I'm back. That, and she wants to tell me all the things that have gone wrong around here without me to keep my eye on them," he gave her a little smile, plucking a dried piece of fruit from the tray and popping it into his mouth.

"Oh. Yes. Well...I have a full day too," she lied. How was it that she was the leader of the whole damn fortress and no one had been clamoring for her time and attention? Was this really what it was like to be on top? Only useful for making judgments and hearing bad news? She caught Dorian giving her a significant look and she mouthed "later," at him, sending him a stern glare.

Astlyr gave Titus a nod, which he, surprisingly, returned, and Dorian grabbed her for a hug before she could stop him. Not that she tried terribly hard. Then she and Cullen left the room.

"The young templar seems a pleasant fellow. It'll be interesting to know him when he's well," Cullen commented. "He's brave for doing this. Or foolish. I can never keep that straight." he gave her a crooked smile, then a quick kiss which did not last nearly long enough for Astlyr's taste, before departing for his office.

Astlyr huffed a sigh and glanced around. Well, she could find something to keep herself busy until later. She was the Inquisitor after all. Certainly somewhere, someone needed something heavy shifted.

Astlyr did settle on an occupation for the day. She checked in on the mage tower and found the repairs going well indeed. Several members of her building crew were already at work, aided by a few of the mages. Vivienne oversaw all. She had stepped in, unbidden, to act as a First Enchanter for them all, and it seemed that Skyhold's mages were generally pleased by this. The elegant woman's desire for structure and caution were well suited to the role, and she brought an air of respectability to what might have been seen as a gaggle of rebel mages without her. Astlyr didn't bother mentioning that Viv had never been officially appointed to the role. Everyone seemed to believe she had, so Astlyr simply let them. Why manage what was managing on its own?

She spent a good deal of her day helping with repairs and catching up with Viv and the building crew. The men had missed her, or at least her strong arms. They said that Blackwall came to help quite a bit, until Vivienne drove him of with frequent, if harmless, jabs at his person. Some of the people in Skyhold still looked askance at the reformed killer.

Astlyr also checked in on Dirthamen, Fen and Ghilan'nain. Dirthamen seemed to take to every new situation as though born to it. Ghilan'nain had much more difficulty and she seemed extremely pleased that Fen was back. Astlyr felt a bit guilty for taking him on their quest and leaving the goddess alone without language or a guide, but without Fen's efforts they would certainly have been in hot water, or possibly dead and buried like the bones under the sand that Cole had described.

The sun was setting behind the mountains as Astlyr mounted the wall steps to Cullen's office. She could hear his voice through the wooden door, commanding and sure. There were other voices. His lieutenants, she guessed. They were a friendly enough bunch, seldom causing a fuss or getting over-drunk at the tavern. Astlyr opened the door. Stepping into the warmth of the room she leaned herself against the doorframe, careful to cock her hip just so, to accentuate her long lines. The men stopped speaking as she entered looking up at her. "Inquisitor," they threw various salutes.

"As you were," she urged them, all the while shooting Cullen a look that she fervently hoped was sultry. "Sorry to interrupt."

Was it her, or did Cullen actually pull a double take? She knew she wasn't seeing things as she watched his eyes travel down her body, hungrily. "We're finished, actually," he said, pushing himself up from his desk and giving all his men a look that could not be mistaken by even the most foolhardy.

"Good," Astlyr crossed the room, swaying her hips just that extra bit as she went, hoping she wouldn't trip part way. She reached Cullen before all the men had left the room. One lingered, papers still in hand, uncertain. Astlyr smiled at him, then grabbed the front of Cullen's ornamental armor of office and jerked him to her, "if you wouldn't mind, I need this man to tear all my clothes off."

The lieutenant fled like a frightened rabbit. Cullen wrapped his arms around her waist, "I really wish you wouldn't do that to people."

"Do you?" she kissed him, ending with a bite to his lower lip.

He was blushing again, but that was hardly unusual. Astlyr took charge this time, pressing him back against the wall, working the buckles of his breastplate loose she sent it to the floor with a rattling 'clank' and pulled his shirt up, sliding her hands over his bare chest beneath. She hesitated, leaning back from his lips, watching his eyes, "is this alright? Me being aggressive like this?" She didn't want to bring up any dark memories. Not now, or ever.

Cullen considered for the barest moment only, "No. This is good. I trust you, Astlyr. I know you won't hurt me."

"I never will," she said, locking her lips with his, resuming her exploration of his chest, then other portions of him. She stripped him ferociously and even kissed him leaned back across the desk where he had once laid her. She was careful to gauge his mood, sensitive for signs she was going too far. To her surprise he truly did enjoy her actions. What happened next was the strangest and most glorious feeling. It came over her like a wave. It felt kin to blood rage, but different in all the best ways. She had never felt anything like it with any of her other lovers. A wild, animal rush that made her feel free and wonderful and perfectly present with her man. They didn't make it up to the bed until long after they had finished.

Astlyr slept tumbled together with Cullen as though someone had discarded them both onto the bed. In truth they were so exhausted from their evening of enjoyment that they had barely been able to climb the ladder to Cullen's loft. The two had collapsed onto the matress and fallen asleep almost at once; a tangle of limbs. Somehow they had found one another's hands and clasped them warmly as sleep took them both.

When Astlyr woke she was alarmed. The room was still dark, but as she reached for Cullen her hand found nothing but empty mattress beside her. She raised her head and looked for him, only then realizing that she was dressed, though not in her usual tunic and leggings, but the strange attire she knew meant... "The Fade?" she said aloud, looking around the dimly lit room. There were hints of greenish magic clinging to the corners and shimmering from the candles instead of flames. The room looked relatively similar to Cullen's actual quarters, but everything was canted slightly to the left and a few of his drinking glasses seemed to have made a bid for freedom and were hovering near the roof beams like trapped birds.

"Fen?" Astlyr questioned, sliding free of the bed, which she noticed as no longer terribly symmetrical. "Cole?"

No one answered her. She moved towards the window across the loft from Cullen's bed. Her hand prickled and she glanced down at it, noting the small flicker of green. It self as though the mark was merely waking up. Having a little stretch. It didn't stab or pulse with energy, but occasionally sparked, as though greeting her. Then something caught her attention outside. Down in the courtyard, which was draped in pale green with the hue of the Fade moon, she saw two figures walking. She blinked. Had It been two large animals, side by side? Now they were clearly men, striding along. She caught a flash of red hair. Fen was here after all, but not for her. She almost called out, but stopped herself. Instead she managed to climb down the ladder to the Fade version of Cullen's office. All of his books had removed themselves from his shelves and had formed some sort of fort, like a child's, in the corner.

Astlyr did not take time to wonder at this as she opened the door and stepped out onto the wall. Her body had braced unconsciously for a gush of icy wind, but the air was still and silent. A few snowflakes did drift past her face, but they moved more like fireflies than snow. She caught sight of the two forms again. This time definitely animals. The wolf she knew, and what looked to be a bear judging by the hulking shape. Fen'Harel and Dirthamen, traveling the Fade together and seemingly bound for the temple.

Astlyr felt her hand prick again, as if reminding her that the anchor was still there. She ignored it, treading carefully down the wall steps, watchful of the two shapes. Was it possible they did not notice her yet? She gritted her teeth in annoyance. Why hadn't she thought of this? They could guard these gods all they liked in the other world, but how would they keep tabs on them in the Fade? Perhaps it was up to her. She wished she knew whether they were aware of her or not. How could they not be? But then, they were conversing furtively with one another and moving with purpose away from her. Perhaps their intent was overwhelming their caution. Perhaps they had no idea that she could be drawn into their shared dream. She shot a look at her hand where the anchor rested. Maybe this have had something to do with her mark?

' I wish I was stealthier,' she thought darkly as she lingered in the wavering wall shadow. The pair were moving out of her sight towards the stables and the door down to the elven temple. Her hand stung again, more aggressively this time, and she almost gasped. She shook her hand as though she had burned it, feeling highly annoyed.

"I can help you," a small, very soft voice said.

Astlyr jumped, then looked around. A white wisp hovered over to her, not much larger than the head of a dandelion. It bobbed around her for a moment as though considering; if a fluff could consider. Then it landed on the greenish snow beside her and transformed into a white rabbit with black tipped ears. It tilted its head, looking up at Astlyr with eyes the color of dark river stones. "You...who are you?" Astlyr managed. She surmised it was not a demon, at least like any demon she had ever seen.

"I am the spirit of Subtlety," said the rabbit, blinking slowly and twitching an ear around to listen to Fen and Dirthamen, who had almost reached the entrance to the temple.

"Subtlety? Interesting." she pondered this, eying the rabbit. If it was a demon it would no doubt start making deals or demands in a few moments, she reasoned. Instead the rabbit wiggled its nose and watched her expectantly. "Er...why are you here?"

"You called me," the rabbit's voice was so quiet that Astlyr had trouble hearing it at all.

"I did?"

"With that," the rabbit nodded towards her hand, which was still faintly alight with green.

"I can do that?"

"Of course," the rabbit said, in a tone which implied he thought she was a little thick. It scratched an ear with a long hind foot then sat up on its haunches, "What is it you required of me, Lady?" Its voice was respectful, like a servant or soldier.

"Er...can you help me keep up with those two men, only not let them see me?"

"A tall order," the spirit confided, hopping around her, considering. "I believe I can. You are lucky it is I who heard your call, and not one of my lesser brothers and sisters." it announced, looking a pleased, for a rabbit. "It will be a challenge to hide your glow," he nodded towards her hand again, "but the ones you seek to follow are not truly spirits, so they do not feel your call as I do. I should be able to hide you from their sight."

"I'm just happy you're not a demon," Astlyr confided.

"A what?" the rabbit asked, tilting its head and sitting up again.

"A bad spirit?" Astlyr tried. The rabbit still looked puzzled. She sighed, "I take it you have never been outside the Fade, little friend?"

"Oh no," the rabbit shook its head and its long ears waggled. "Sometimes I hear the call for Subtlety and am tempted, but I never answer. The world outside doesn't want me. Not really. They seek my aid to hide so they might steal, or even kill. To trick others." It seemed so certain that Astlyr did not bother to argue. "One such as I would be crushed in the other world," it continued with a hint of distaste in its voice. "Shall we go?"

"Yes," Astlyr agreed, following her new friend as it began to hop across the courtyard. Astlyr followed as best she could. Several times she lost sight of the little creature. A white rabbit against the white snow. It melted into the shadows and blended into the stones, almost becoming one with each. Idly curious she asked, "were you near Skyhold when I 'called' you?"

"Near where?" the rabbit asked, suddenly beside her.

She sighed and remembered Cole's words. 'We're in the Fade'. Time and distance had little meaning here, especially to a denizen. She wondered if the rabbit was truly hiding in the shadows, or if it manipulated those shadows to fold over it like a blanket. Could it to the same for her? She hoped so, because she felt about as far from being subtle as one could get. The rabbit little seemed to notice as it led her to the stairs which stretched into the darkness of the temple below. She could already hear voices echoing inside.

Carefully, placing each foot with caution, though she had no way of knowing if this was necessary or not, she moved down the steps, the rabbit ahead of her, then gone, then at her side. He did not teleport, as Cole might, but melted into the darkness or light around him as if he were one with it.

Asltyr reached the bottom of the stairs and was met with a great strand of shining spider silk. She could see the beautiful temple illuminated by the light of the Fade, which came from everywhere and nowhere at once. The entire place was intricately interlaced with the long strands of the golden spider's webs, still holding little pockets of magic like dew drops in a morning mist. Astlyr swallowed. She could make out the spider spirit across the room, perched in her web. Below her stood Dirthamen and Fen'Harel, in elvhen form once more. Astlyr could see Dirthamen well enough to make out dark skin, considerably darker than that of his new host, and a tall, elegant bearing. He carried himself like a prince. His black hair was drawn back in long dreadlocks which he wore tied with a leather string at the nape of his neck.

The two elves were deep in conversation with the spider. Astlyr felt that she stuck out like a sore thumb, standing just on the other side of the room from them and all, yet none seemed to take any notice of her. This may have been the first time in her life that she went unnoticed. She realized that she rather liked it. So this was what people who weren't huge and didn't have giant horns sticking out of their heads could feel like?

"Come," Subtlety urged, dancing nimbly through the lattice of webs, carefully avoiding each strand.

"I'm not certain I can," Astlyr whispered, keeping her eyes on the little gathering across the room. No one looked up at the sound of her voice. Novelty after novelty.

"Do not touch the strands," Subtlety turned, nose twitching, whiskers spread, "or even I will not be able to hide you."

Astlyr bit down on her lip as she carefully inched forward, step after well placed step. The rabbit bounded around her, indicating the best spots to place her feet, looking up just in time to warn her when a horn might tickle a strand. This dance kept her mind completely busy. For all she knew the two gods could have noticed her and were now staring directly at her. The low rumble of their voices kept her fairly secure in the knowledge that they had not spotted her yet.

Finally she was near enough to hear them, but still well back, hunching in the shadows that Subtlety wove expertly over her. It did seem an effort for him to keep her unnoticed, so she did her best to make herself small. Were she not in the Fade she would have grown quite sore from the position she was forced to squat in. The rabbit hopped around her, keeping up its concealing powers as she watched the two elves.

Dirthamen was conversing with the spider spirit. He reached up a hand to her and she moved gracefully down to touch his outstretched fingers with an elegant limb. There was a flash of soft, blue light where spirit met god, and then the spider withdrew, moving about her web experimentally plucking a thread here and there. She joined two threads in one spot, then linked two more with a new thread between them.

Fen'Harel watched, an odd expression on his face that Astlyr couldn't quite place. Perhaps it was because she was not as used to the form he liked to take in the Fade. She got a better look at Dirthamen as he watched the spider, a placid smile on his dark features. He his a trim, black beard which accentuated a square jaw, and the same, dark, fathomless eyes. He wore what seemed like a variation on the modern desert attire that Astlyr and company had endured in their travels in The Western Approach. She wondered if he was one of the elves that Cole had mentioned. One of those who lived in the sands rather than the vibrant forests. She pondered why the Dalish no longer dwelt there, preferring the Fereldan side of the Frostbacks.

"Are you certain you gave her enough?" Fen asked. His posture suggested tension and uncertainty. So different from the cocky bravdo he had shown the last time Astlyr had been with him in the Fade.

"Of course. I gave her exactly the right amount. She's tying the memory in with the others she holds. She is the history of Skyhold. This place and all its peoples through all time. I was able to give her a recollection from another place. Somewhere which I hope you will recognize once you see it, friend. I cannot believe Mythal would take so much from you."

"She wanted me to forget this. I am uncertain why," Fen'Harel muttered. "It is endlessly frustrating to know what I am, but I be unable to remember how I became so."

"Never fear," Dirthamen clapped Fen'Harel on the shoulder, smiling a very white smile. He had a pleasant, kind face. The face of one who laughed often, Astlyr decided. His mouth quirked easily into a natural grin and his eyes crinkled at the corners. "As soon as she finishes weaving the memories together you shall have your answers."

Fen seemed satisfied and the two stood waiting, watching the golden spirit weave. Once or twice Astlyr felt certain the spider's many dark eyes fixed on her, but just as quickly dismissed the notion as nerves. Finally the spirit lowered herself, giving her handiwork one final look she reached out with the delicate care of one touching a strand of spun glass, and plucked a string. Astlyr felt a disorienting sensation as the world around her shifted, the way it had when she and Cole and learned of Spirit Companions. Little Subtlety did not even seem to notice. It wove its power around her, even as everything swam and spun, blending her into impossible background before things settled again on a new locale.

Astlyr inhaled a gasp of surprise as she and the two gods were faced with a scene playing out in a small, cozy looking room. Fen'Harel starer at the memory version of himself, as did Dirthamen. In this recalculation both gods looked younger, but very clearly themselves. The memory of Fen'Harel perched on the arm of a lavish chair and Dirthamen paced, arms folded across his chest.

Also in the room, giving the place a feeling of crowded companionship, sat a tall, elegant woman with long hair as black as pitch and another elf with dark skin who looked very like Dirthamen. A slender woman with close cropped, nutmeg brown hair also took to perching on the arm of a chair beside the black haired woman. She was dressed for hunting with skins and furs adorning her willowy frame, an elegant longbow across her body from shoulder to hip.

Another woman sat near the hearth, coaxing it to life with obvious magical gift. She was shorter, more plump than the others, but there was a clever, even dangerous glint in her eyes. The sort of woman who would make you a meal, but also keep a dagger in her boot just in case you found fault with her cooking. The final inhabitant of the room was broader than his fellows, with muscular arms that Astlyr was surprised to see on an elf. Everyone else was so wispy and ethereal. Even the mage beside the fire seemed as though she might drift away like a dandelion fluff at a moment's notice. This last man looked like it would take a qunari to shift him if he didn't care to move. He had seated himself on a wooden chair beside a dark-wood table which took up a goodly portion of the middle of the room.

Astlyr watched the strangers move about, or sit contemplatively. A feeling of sorrow prevailed amongst them. Eyes were down turned and no one seemed eager to speak. Astlyr rocked back slightly on her heels, "Makers balls..." she breathed to Subtlety. "Are these the elven gods?!"

***** Whoa, two Firefly quotes in one chapter? Hot damn!

Ooooo, sexy times. Oh yeah. Plus a brand new, sexy version of the blood rage. Mmmmhmmm.

And then, holy crap elvhen gods. What will happen next? What new discoveries? You'll just have to wait and see!

Next: 7/23/15

Stay updated and see book review right here: pages/Emily-Luebke-Author/283743888311991 ****