Chapter 37!

I'm going to get my shit together, and post the rest of the story! I swear!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

-o-

Chapter 37 – Foolish Girl

Three days later, it finally happened. Kieran finally vanished into the Eluvian.

'Finally' was a matter of debate, however, because Flemeth was rather intimidating.

"You have brought a…friend, I see."

Hermione nodded at the ancient witch. "Indeed."

"And who are you, I wonder?"

"I'm Hermione. Agent of the Inquisition."

Flemeth actually laughed. "There is more to you than that, girl, is it not?"

You have no idea, Hermione thought. "You could say that. Now, if you would return Kieran to his mother, that would be really nice."

"Not quite yet, girl," Flemeth replied. "Not before I get what I came for."

Hermione sighed. "What do you need the soul for anyway? What is it that you want? Is it just power?"

Flemeth's expression flashed with surprised, but a moment later she was back to the cunning look. "One will never have too much power, girl."

Hermione managed to not roll her eyes. "I disagree, quite frankly. Just look at the confused ancient darkspawn strolling around, trying to break the world. The power he carries…well, he just shouldn't have that."

"And what would you know of the power he carries?" Flemeth said, cocking her head. "What is it that you think you know?"

"Return Kieran and I'll tell you all about it."

"I'm afraid I cannot do that."

Flemeth moved, and Hermione reacted instantly. "Accio Kieran!" The ancient witch was so taken aback that before she could react, Hermione had pushed Kieran to his mother. "Run. I will keep her occupied until you get out."

They ran, and Hermione just managed to block a spell, bouncing it back so it hit the witch, knocking her over.

The now angry witch, Hermione thought as she watched Flemeth get up from the ground, anger sparking in her eyes. "I don't want to fight you, Flemeth."

"What do you know, girl, what do you know of the power he carries? Are you even aware of what forces you are toying with?"

"Well, yes," Hermione said as she blocked another spell, "I do."

Flemeth stopped casting spells, and smirked. "Foolish. Naïve. You do not what forces are in play here."

"Well, that power he carries is basically his orb, more or less."

Flemeth's smirk broadened. "Yes…that orb. I wonder if you would find it interesting to know how it came to be in his possession."

Hermione shrugged. "Probably. If I didn't already know."

"Foolish girl. You have, in your midst-"

"The Dread Wolf? Indeed. That I already know…Mythal."

Flemeth just stared at her for a moment, but then she collected herself. "Surprising, I will admit as much. Now, since you know who I am…perhaps you regret the Well?"

"Not really, no. It was rather useful."

"Naïve, indeed. How disappointing."

Hermione sighed. "Jesus, Flemeth. What is it that you want?"

"I was here for a powerful soul," the witch said, cocking her head, "and I intend to leave with one."

Hermione felt a tug in the binding, but shrugged it off. "It doesn't work, I'm sorry. And my soul is mine to keep, I'm afraid."

Mythal stared at her. Stared. "What are you, girl?"

"Different."

-o-

How the hell did we end up here? Hermione thought a while later. Somehow, she had ended up 'chatting' with the witch.

"But don't you see?" Hermione said, gesturing around her, "there is a reason for why the Fade is separate. There is a reason for why it should stay that way. It's not something one can undo. Not even you. One cannot just casually reshape the world and then put it back together."

"I believe you underestimate - again - the forces in play, girl."

Hermione shook her head. "I think you overestimate the forces in play, Mythal. Solas made a ridiculous mistake when giving the orb to Corypheus. He knows this. Corypheus will break the world if he isn't stopped. He will break the world, because he will do the exact same thing you want to do. What makes you think you can do something he cannot do?" Flemeth looked very much offended, and Hermione sighed. "You are a Dalish god. Yes, you will probably manage better than the ancient magister. But what if you fail? It is you who underestimate the danger here. What if you can't put the world back together? What if you can't fix it? Is it truly worth the risk? Mar solas ene mar din, Mythal. You should take a step back and truly consider this. Just trust me on this."

The witch did actually look slightly taken aback for a moment, but then she shook her head. "You do not know what you speak of, girl."

Hermione flung her hands in the air, sighing. "That's the thing, Flemeth. I do know what I speak of. I know how this story ends."

"Pray tell, girl," Flemeth said, raising an eyebrow, "how could you possibly know how this 'story' ends?"

"Because I'm different. I'm not…from here. Trust me; I know how this story ends. And if the path is not changed, it is not a happy ending. Even for the Dalish gods." Shaking her head, she continued. "I have prepared for this meeting for quite a while. I have contemplated a wide variety of scenarios. At least fifteen of them is killing you, a couple of them involves mind control, not to mention the several situations where I turn this binding around on you."

Flemeth laughed. "You are rather amusing, girl, I must say."

Hermione – with great relief when it worked – turned the binding around, and in the next moment she could feel the connection, and how she could use it against the ancient witch.

Said ancient witch looked terrified.

"You see? You should listen to me, witch," she said as she lifted the binding again, "and what you should do, is go ahead and track down that pretend-Archdemon, and kill it, so we can kill the bloody magister. Then – if the orb isn't already destroyed – we should destroy it, and you should – instead of spending eternity trying to do something that will almost certainly break the world – find some happiness. It's been 9000 years, Mythal! Don't you deserve some bloody happiness? To live your life instead of plotting in the shadows? It's been 9000 years. The Dalish gods are probably used to their life by now. Not to mention that this world – it has changed rather a lot in 9000 years after all – will probably cause them nothing but grief. Is it worth it? Is it worth the risk? You – and Solas – are clinging on to an ancient dream, an illusion, and you should let it go."

Flemeth didn't say anything, surprisingly. She just gazed at Hermione.

"None of the scenarios I pictured involved letting you leave this place," Hermione eventually said, "but perhaps that is what I should do? Perhaps I should give you a chance to think about it?"

"And you call me proud, girl? Perhaps you should look at yourself."

Hermione shook her head. "No. It's not pride. Not now that I know how well my magic works on you. Even if I can't kill you, I can most certainly control you."

After a very long moment, Flemeth nodded. "I will…consider what you have said," she said, ever so quietly. "I will truly consider it."

Hermione had – for some reason – no doubt whatsoever that the witch was telling the truth.