Thank you for all the follows/favs! The fandom is actually a nice part of the fun of this. If you have any ideas or thoughts or requests, please feel free to share.
In this episode, the Inquisition learns of the Wardens in the Western Approach and that they should go... talk to them? Fight them? Something. Also, Ash can't get Blackwall off her mind, which works out nicely, because he apparently can't get her off his. Minor non-canon romance ensues!
The group struck out early the next day, which proved to be fortuitous when they were delayed by the unexpected arrival of some excessively aggressive Red Templars. It was an unpleasant reminder of the allies Corypheus was amassing while they ran around looking for answers.
Ash finally caught sight of Varric and Hawke standing outside a cave in early afternoon. A banner of a skull with a red slash of paint obscuring the eyes hung over the entrance.
"There you are, Eggshells," Varric waved in greeting.
"Glad to see you in one piece. We only just got here," Hawke turned to usher them through the tunnel. "Stroud should be at the back of this cave."
"Have you spoken with him?" Ash asked as they headed back.
"We wanted to keep an eye out for you first," Varric said.
"Ah. Well, we ran into some Wardens outside Crestwood. They were looking to bring him in," she continued. "What do you make of that?"
Hawke and Varric exchanged wary glances.
"I don't trust it," Hawke said firmly. She rubbed her chin and scowled. "They might well be good men, but if that's so, they're following bad orders."
They walked a short distance to the back of the cave, where a blood-stained door with the same skull and red blindfold banner painted across it.
"What do you suppose that means?" Ash asked aloud.
"Looks like the mark of the Blind Men," Dorian offered. "Uncouth group of smugglers."
"Don't they sometimes supply your homeland with slaves?" Blackwall didn't try to hide the note of disgust.
"Yes, among other things. Though judging from these bloodstains, I daresay they're not using this cave much right now."
"Stroud paid them back only some of what they were owed," Cole whispered.
Ash pushed the door open and stepped through into a wider room dimly lit with candles. She moved forward warily. A few tables had papers scattered across them.
Her ear twitched at the sound of metal stretching across leather. She turned quickly and found herself standing face to sword. At the end of the sword was a dour looking human with impressive armor and an even more impressive moustache.
Blackwall put his hand on his sword hilt and stepped next to Ash. Hawke moved through the doorway and laughed.
"Easy, all. Stroud, this is the Inquisitor. And apparently her bodyguard," the tall rogue smirked.
"One of many," Dorian quipped as the rest of the party entered.
The Grey Warden looked between Hawke, Blackwall, and Ash. He scanned Ash more thoroughly, then seemed to come to a decision. He nodded and sheathed his sword.
"I am at your service, Inquisitor," Stroud said in a clear, strong voice.
"It seems we might be able to help each other in kind," the slight elven warrior was glad that ended amiably. "I have heard the Grey Wardens are having troubles of their own. I'm here to ask… might they have something to do with my own enemy? Corypheus?"
Stroud returned the nod of her head and confirmed her suspicions. It turned out he had exactly the same ones. Between Hawke's and the Inquisition's accounts, it seemed Corypheus had power on par of an archdemon. Both could survive fatal wounds. Both wielded the power of corruption.
And if all the Wardens throughout Orlais were hearing the Calling, it could be Corypheus's doing.
It could be that the Wardens were so desperate to address a great evil, that they fell prey to the manipulations of that very thing.
"But they're not being controlled," concluded Hawke. "They're just being tricked. We can reason with them."
Stroud revealed he knew of a desperate plan the Warden-Commander Clarel was enacting. It was a blood magic ritual that required lives in exchange for demons. And it was why Stroud chose to flee, when he refused to go along with it. The rituals were taking place in the Western Approach, in an ancient tower. It was there the Inquisition must go next, if they wanted to know more about what Corypheus wanted from the Wardens.
Ash felt a surge of affection and pride for the stalwart man. He had risked so much to stand up against the very order to which he'd given his life. Unshakeable principle. She glanced at Blackwall. Here, too, was a man haunted by the imminent promise of his own demise, however false they now knew it to be, yet he had resisted.
They made plans to meet in the Western Approach when the Inquisition was prepared, to investigate this lead, and perhaps find a way to stop Corypheus.
Ash felt renewed pressure alongside hope as they ventured back to Skyhold. She made her reports to Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine, received updates in kind, and departed to think on the new information. She was not five steps into the main hall when Mother Giselle intercepted her.
What now? Ash tried to maintain neutrality, but the constant demands were starting to wear on her. The Mother had been in contact with Dorian's family, the House Pavus. Ash frowned. She knew the Tevinter mage had few friends here, and now here was his family sending out feelers to the Skyhold morality police.
It seemed harmless on its face. Dorian's family just wanted to arrange a meeting… without telling Dorian. Ash knew they weren't on good terms, so she wondered if he would accept. She was all too familiar with that brand of stubborn.
She also knew what it was to regret things unsaid with family. She would have to think on it. If Ash could help Dorian with this piece of himself, she wanted to make sure she did so with her full attention… or at least a deal more that she could spare now. She filed it at the back of her mind and continued out the main doors.
Corypheus wielded the power of the blight… Was that even something Tevinter mages of old could do? If only she knew half the history Solas did. They could stop all the blood rituals and juiced-up Templars their hearts desired, but what good was it if Corypheus himself couldn't be killed? Perhaps he could be felled by a Grey Warden, like an archdemon. Or perhaps his power was tied directly to the orb Solas had mentioned.
Ash's head hurt. This wasn't her strong suit. Or at least, she'd always brainstormed with someone more cerebral than herself. Her brother Theolan would be better at this leadership business.
Her eyes dropped to the green gash on her hand. Couldn't be helped now.
She realized she was headed toward Blackwall's barn. She almost laughed. Miss him already, do you? she chided herself. Though she did wonder about his plan for her new set of armor.
Maker, it had better not be plate mail.
"Morning, Inquisitor," Threnn nodded curtly as the elf passed. Ash nodded back, then to the merchant at her left, to Master Dennet, eye contact with each soldier she passed… Ash blew a sigh through her lips. Being attentive was exhausting.
The barn loomed ahead. Staccato tapping echoed quietly from within, growing clearer as Ash approached. She could make out the thick form of Blackwall by the sturdy worktable. A warm fire crackled behind him. She tilted her head to get a better view of the project before him.
Is that a… her lips spread in amusement. A wooden rocking griffon. Child-sized. Blackwall was so engrossed in the finer details of his woodwork that he didn't even notice Ash until she was almost upon him. He straightened, coughed, and watched her eyes shift from him to the griffon.
"This? This is just… something to keep the hands busy," he explained seriously.
"You need to keep your hands busy? I have suggestions," she said before she could stop herself.
"I, uh…" he alternated stammering and throat clearing. He turned to lay down his tools and straighten a few things on the work station. "That's not necessary. You've done more than enough. And I don't want to seem ungrateful."
"You give me too much credit," she moved to the table and leaned against it. Ash hooked one hand on a wrist and crossed her legs at the ankles. Blackwall glanced briefly up at her.
"Not at all. If not for you, I'd still be wandering the woodlands," he said firmly. "And while that has its own appeal, it's good to be a part of something like the Inquisition. Especially after the past few days. We made a difference. And we're likely the only ones looking into the Grey Wardens."
"Then it's just the work keeping you here?" Ash watched for his reaction. She was surprised when he turned and met her steady gaze.
"Well…" he hesitated. "There's you, of course." Ash held her breath. "The Inquisition is nothing without its Herald." She exhaled.
"So they tell me."
"It's no small thing," his thick eyebrows furrowed earnestly. He stepped away from the table, away from Ash, and looked down into the fire. "Those we follow. They shape who we become, for good or ill. I had a chance once, as a young man, to follow a different path."
Ash had half expected a tight-lipped, walled-off Blackwall after their recent adventures. A fortress of stone, like the one Solas had erected when Ash got too close. Instead, here was hesitant warmth. A story of his past. She had tried for weeks to get him to speak of his life back at Haven, and nothing. He would never budge before.
"What chance?"
Blackwall didn't look up from the fire.
"There was a chevalier. A powerful man, but never without honor. A true knight," his voice was low and distant as he walked the memory. "I was fighting in the Grand Tourney. We both made it up the ranks. He was my final competitor. And he let me win. Said I had everything to gain, and he, nothing to lose. I didn't see the act for what it was. He offered to train me, to become a chevalier like him."
Ash's eyebrows raised.
"You trained with a chevalier?" the elf knew a little of the organization. Only nobles ever served in their ranks, and the training was so uniquely rigorous that tales of it reached even the Dalish. Blackwall chuckled brusquely.
"No. I didn't need him. I'd just won the Grand Tourney," he declared with a note of self-deprecation. He finally turned to face her. "I had more balls than sense, then."
One corner of Ash's mouth quirked upward.
"I'll have to trust you on that."
"Ah, well," he nervously twisted the palm of one hand in the other, "I had an actual point to all this. That my life… It could've been very different. But I was young and stupid. Proud. I regretted that for many years."
"But surely no longer," she was smiling still. "If your life had been different, we wouldn't have met." Blackwall let loose a hearty chuckle.
"Nothing escapes your notice." He stared at her for a quiet moment that stretched into seconds. "Aye, it's true. I could never regret this life." The nervous hands broke apart, clamped into loose fists, and fell to his sides. "Not with you in it."
Ash was holding her breath again. Her heart banged in her chest like a flustered bird. Blackwall grunted softly as he crossed his arms.
"I, ah… I hope you can forgive me for pushing you away."
Ash looked down to the ground in an unconscious futile attempt to hide her spreading smile.
"You may have noticed I haven't exactly let it go."
"I did notice that, yes. Still," he twisted his hands again, "I owe you an explanation. Who I am. What I am. But not here."
A fine line of confusion appeared between Ash's eyebrows.
"Oh? Why not here?" she cocked her head to one side. "Where, then? Is this a public setting sort of thing?" Her eyes narrowed. "Are you afraid of me, Blackwall?"
He laughed softly and tension eased from his shoulders.
"More than I should be, I'd wager," he chuckled. He shook his head and cleared his throat. "But, truly. I can explain. It isn't pressing, but I would appreciate it. When you're ready."
Ash looked behind her, half expecting Cullen to appear right then with a report of her being needed in the North town of Wherever. But the yard was clear and the sky shone early midday. She had some time. She turned back to Blackwall with a jerk of her head toward the stables.
"Now works."
She moved to saddle a horse. Blackwall looked after her a moment, hesitating. Heat was already rising to his face. Beads of sweat gathered on his neck. You can do this, he clenched his fists tightly.
Dorian walked out to the ramparts for a change of scenery and stretched in the cool mountain air. He noticed Cole sitting atop the wall, peering intently at the bridge out of Skyhold. His curiosity piqued, he sauntered over. The spirit didn't move, but a slight twist of the wide-brimmed hat told Dorian that Cole heard his approach.
The Tevinter mage opened his mouth to issue a greeting, when movement on the bridge caught his eye. He squinted and leaned forward, staring alongside Cole.
"Is that… Blackwall?"
"And the Inquisitor," Cole's hat bobbed in affirmation.
"Where the bloody hell are they going?" The Inquisitor never left on her missions without a small contingent. Without consulting me, Dorian mused, slightly miffed.
Cole's legs were stretched out before him, dangling stories above the ground. He tapped his feet together lightly.
"He thinks he's going to tell her," he announced in his wistful voice.
"Oh?" Dorian half-heard him. He wondered for a moment if he should saddle a horse and catch up to the Inquisitor.
"He knows another him would tell her. But then it would be real. And he knows she isn't real. He wants her to stay real," Cole continued softly. Dorian caught that part. He blinked and turned fully to face the spirit.
"What?" the word snapped out of his mouth. Cole jumped, startled, and turned to the mage with wide eyes.
"What?" he echoed confusedly.
"You were saying…" Dorian blinked a few more times, rapidly. "Who's real?"
Cole paused.
"She isn't," he corrected.
"Who isn't?"
"His Inquisitor," Cole explained gently. There was a hint of concern for Dorian's exasperation.
Dorian stared at him for a beat.
"You're confused, Cole."
The spirit gazed back uncertainly.
"I am, now."
Dorian half-snorted, half-guffawed. He turned and shook his head as he walked back to the library.
Blackwall and Ash had been on and off the main roads for awhile now. Ash was curious of their destination, but had decided to allow Blackwall his secrets. He was so soon to part with some of them, she thought it a nice farewell gift.
He had not spoken a word since they crossed the bridge out of Skyhold. He would not even look at her. Ash felt a nettling sense of dread. It dug claws into her gut and settled in to fester. Blackwall was just so… somber. More serious than usual, and that was a feat. Her mind started down the treacherous path of entertaining what he might have to confess.
When they crossed over into the Sword Coast, she almost laughed at how the drizzling rain suited the mood.
"Up past this ridge… I fought a battle here once," he sounded like he barely remembered she was there. Ash couldn't see his face from where she stood. They dismounted their horses and climbed up to a cliff that overlooked the sea. Light, cold sprinkles of rain hit Ash's face. The ground around them was partially overgrown. She might have mistaken some mounds as stones, were it not for the bits of bone or armor peeking out between greenery. A few rusted weapons lay about. She wondered who the bodies had once been.
Blackwall stopped a few feet ahead of her. He seemed like a statue, staring down at the ground.
"The Warden-Constable's badge," he finally spoke with quiet surprise. He bent to pick up the small piece of metal, slightly worn from exposure.
"You mean your badge," Ash stepped closer. He was acting even more guarded than usual. So careful, like a deer scouting unfamiliar terrain. "You must have dropped it in the battle."
A moment of silence stretched long enough that she wondered if he even heard her.
"Yes," he finally murmured. "How careless of me. After all, I… did earn it."
Blackwall finally turned to Ash. He scanned the ground around him, then looked up into her face.
"This was my life before I met you. Crumbling ruins. Endless battles. Death."
The sea behind him churned in dark waves capped with angry white foam that faded into the misty horizon.
"That doesn't sound so different from now," she said it carefully, with a smirk. "For all your concern, you are only selling me more on why we are well-suited for each other."
He chuckled.
"You tease, but…" he looked around at the ruins. "There's nothing more for me here." He rubbed the back of his hand across the droplets on his forehead. "Let's return. We can talk back at Skyhold."
Blackwall started toward the horses at the bottom of the hill. Ash shook her head in disbelief.
"We're leaving?" she balked.
"I know. I'm sorry. I need some time to think."
No. Damn. Way.
"You've been thinking the whole way out here!"
"This isn't done. I just…" his voice trailed off when he didn't figure out how to end the sentence. The elven warrior jogged to catch up to him. She took hold of his arms and swung herself into his way.
"Hold on. Blackwall. Damnit, look at me!"
He did so, reluctantly. Ash pursed her lips and took a breath to steady herself so she didn't tear into him.
"I know whatever this is… it's difficult for you. And Maker knows you'd rather never be bothered, judging by your penchant for living far from any sort of civilization," she said. "So… I do appreciate that you're trying. And we came all this way. Just to talk! Let's do that." She gave him a firm shake, and even for all her strength, the block of a man barely moved.
He looked down into her face with an intensity that unsettled her. She didn't know what to expect. Would he take her in his arms? Would he scream at her? Run into the forest, never to return?
"I never expected to find someone like you," he finally spoke through gritted teeth. "I never expected to be in a place again where I could appreciate what I'd found. And I don't deserve it." His voice was taut with frustration. His neck corded with tension.
"Blackwall…"
"And don't tell me I do. You don't understand," he shook his head fiercely. "Why don't you trust me? Why can't you believe me when I say, it's not worth it?"
"You've given me no reason to!" she let go of him finally to throw her arms wide. "You bring me out here to say, hey, look at all this history we have in common."
"I can't… I don't know how to explain…" he stumbled over the words. His eyes were on his fists as they flexed, the leather yawning in protest.
Ash watched him battling whatever thoughts tumbled inside his head. He looked for all the world like he might slam his fist into a tree, roar at the sky, and never speak of this again. She didn't want that.
"Alright," she stepped back from him. "Back to Skyhold, then."
He looked up warily. She was already to her horse and pulling herself atop it.
"I'm sorry for this, my lady."
"Come on, then," her voice was more terse than she intended.
She was frustrated. Since she'd met Blackwall, he'd dodged attempts to get to know him. Evaded questions with sweeping statements or deflected probing with sincere but flattering observations of Ashiril instead. All that she did know of him drew his character as a completely dedicated, stalwart, and earnest man. And each day that he let her closer, he wound tighter with an underlying anxiety she didn't understand. For someone so forthright and grounded in his beliefs, it was unexpected. It worried her.
Were his secrets truly that bad?
They started back in silence. This time, Ash felt his mind was on her, instead of grasping at the past. He felt embarrassed by what had transpired. They left the Sword Coast and made their way through a forest that reminded Ash of her home in the North. Their horses emerged into a clearing that led down to a grassy bank by a stream.
A jarring and painful idea came to Ash then.
"Hold," she spoke the first word since they left the Storm Coast. She dismounted.
"What is it?" Blackwall was looking around for unseen foes. She walked to the forest line and looked around, to the stream, up into the sky.
"This place, the forest opening to this stream, with the sun a few hours from dusk… It reminds me of a time with my siblings."
"You have siblings?"
She nodded.
"Theolan and Thalanil. I was the youngest, but I was always the one pushing us into trouble," she walked up to a large tree and rested her hand against it.
"I can't say I'm surprised," Blackwall found himself smiling a little.
"We were three days into a hunt. The longest we'd ever undergone from home. It was about this time of day…" she turned to look into the trees. "Theo and I were several yards into the forest. We heard the stream before we saw it, and Thala went ahead to it. I climbed a tree to get a vantage of our position…"
Ash looked up into the sky again and blinked against the bright sun. The Warden frowned and dismounted. She turned and slowly raised a hand to point across the stream and to the land beyond.
"I broke through the canopy and… and I didn't understand what it was I saw at first. A sea. A moving, dark sea that glinted in the day," her golden eyes swiveled to Blackwall. "We had never seen darkspawn. I didn't even realize it was an army at first."
"Oh, Ash…" he started toward her, but she looked away and toward the stream again.
"I was still on my way down from the tree when I heard Thala screaming. Theo reached her first," Ash ran down and splashed into the water. She spun back toward the concerned Warden and smiled ruefully. "She'd taken down five on her own. My sister, the gentle archer." She looked away again and splashed further into the stream. The water swirled around her calves. "She had three more on her when I finally found her. I saw red. I still can't remember exactly what happened."
Ash held out her arms with her palms facing down, as if sensing changes in the air. She waved one hand behind her back toward the forest.
"I know I screamed at Theo to take her to safety. And then I killed them all."
Blackwall splashed to the edge of the small river. Ash backed away from him. The water was to her knees now.
"We ran back into the forest. I threw my sister over my shoulder and Theo kept them off us. We just kept running. Hiding. Picking off stray darkspawn," she shook her head and looked down at the clear stream rushing past her armored feet. She hadn't thought this hard on that day since the day she described it to her clan. To her parents. "Thala was delirious. I didn't understand what was happening to her. It was like a fever had gripped her. And my brother's magic couldn't heal her."
"Ash, you don't have to tell me this," he continued to move toward her. She stepped back quickly into a crouch like a wary animal.
"That was how we learned of the blight," she shook her head as if in disbelief. "We tried to get back to the clan, before... She deserved at least to say goodbye." Ash sighed deeply and collapsed into the stream. The water surged up over her legs and against her waist. "And of course, we didn't make it. So. I carry that."
The Warden's heart pounded harder as her golden eyes lifted to his face again. He had not expected this. He wanted to take the pain reflected in her expression and get rid of it somehow. Fix it. Promise her whatever it took. She didn't deserve this.
Water churned noisily around his legs as he waded out to her. Ash waved him away weakly.
"Ash, I'm so sorry," he said softly.
Her head whipped up then, eyes narrowed to slits. Faint streams of tears lined her cheeks. Her mouth was a tight, angry line.
"I didn't tell you this for your condolences," she snapped. Ash immediately regretted lashing out. She shook her head and her loose braid bounced around her shoulders. "I told you… because I want you to know me."
Ash started to reach up to Blackwall. He fell to his knees next to her in response. The cold water bit through his clothes immediately. He gritted his teeth. Her fingers touched his chest and trailed up to his neck. He grasped one hand in his and took gentle hold of her neck, squeezing lightly.
"I know it's difficult. For me, at least. And I've been demanding of you, but I truly don't know…"she clasped her hand on his that held her neck. Blackwall leaned closer.
"You've been nothing but wonderful," he shook his head. She coughed on a laugh of disbelief. He touched his other thumb to her cheek and wiped at a faint tear.
"You do neither of us justice with that constant rose-colored view of me," she smirked.
"I like to think of it as balancing your overly critical view of yourself," he retorted.
She laughed and leaned forward into his chest. The hand on her neck moved around to pull her closer. Ash inhaled his scent, of sawdust and sweat and pine. She moved her face against his thick beard. He shifted toward her. She felt her hair move as he nuzzled against it and breathed deeply. Her arms tightened around him.
"Blackwall… If whatever this is… if you can't do it, I…"
"Shhh. Let's leave it. Just for now," his arms tightened on her. The water had thoroughly soaked them below the waists at this point. She shivered to accentuate the point. "We're going to have an uncomfortable ride back."
Her laughter was crisp and sincere. She leaned back to smile up into his face, opened her mouth to tease him about how he'd best hurry lest the river claim him in all his heavy armor, and paused. He was looking at her with heavy-lidded eyes. His jaw pulsed with nervous clenching. Her heart immediately pounded harder against her chest.
She smoothed hair back from his face and pressed her palm against his warm cheek. His head moved very slightly, halfheartedly trying to shake himself clear of her influence. Her fingers curled into his silky hair. Ash pressed her forehead to his and closed her eyes.
She felt his hands squeeze her shoulders. His nose grazed against hers. His breath was warm on her skin.
"Black-" she started to whisper his name. No, he thought. Don't say it.
He pressed his mouth to hers. The word became a gasp against his lips.
He pulled her close to him and kissed her with a sudden, unexpected fervor. She reciprocated without hesitation, grabbing a handful of his thick black hair in one hand and clutching him close with her other. She growled with delight and deepened the kiss, pressing greedily against his mouth. It had been so long that she had wanted this.
Blackwall rumbled in agreement as he gripped her behind the head. He hadn't expected to kiss her. But now he could taste her. He was pressed against her warm, soft skin. He imagined what the rest of her must feel like. And her response was explosive. She was like fire under his touch. It made him burn like a wick, barreling toward a certain and intense explosion.
Her body arched up against him in her excitement. She instinctively picked a leg up to encircle his waist, and they tumbled backward. Cold water engulfed them. They gasped in unison and Blackwall reared backward, pulling the shocked elf with him.
They stared into each other's bewildered faces. Water ran in clear rivulets down Blackwall's face and into his beard. Ash's eyes were wide and red. Her lips shivered from the sudden cold. She started laughing.
The Warden gathered his senses then. He smiled grimly and stood, gathering Ash into his arms. She clung to him, still laughing.
"And people expect us to save the world," she grinned.
He sloshed to the bank and set her down gently.
"I've no doubt you will," he said. She colored in a blush
"You'll never stop with that endless faith, will you?"
"When you give me a reason, my lady," his smile was assured. It made her stomach flutter in ways she hadn't felt since her first summers as a hunter. He turned his gaze to her horse and helped her onto it. "For now, we should get back to Skyhold. I promise you, I just need to gather my thoughts. Then we shall speak again."
She bent down from the saddle and kissed him fast on the cheek. He blushed beneath his thick beard, but his eyes remained intense on her. She held his gaze.
"I know. I'll hold you to it."