Flemeth smiled at Evelyn's silence. "So little to say? The last time we met you were positively brimming with helpful suggestions for me. And my daughter."
Evelyn felt her solitude even more completely than before. Her daggers would be no use against the witch in any of her forms. This was a time for caution. You are too powerful for fear, the dark voice whispered. Show her your strength. "Who were you expecting, if not me?" she asked.
"No one you know. Or perhaps you do. Either way, it doesn't seem to matter now, does it?" She looked around. "It seems some of my possessions have been removed. I hope you're taking good care of them."
"Yes, the statue of you made a great centerpiece in our fortress. Really brightened the place up," she said, slightly horrified as she spoke. She wondered if Elen would come looking for her soon.
The witch laughed. "Interesting to find so many heroes with quick tongues these days. Or perhaps it's only Grey Wardens who are somber in their duties. You needn't worry, by the way, you're not alone. Your shadow is faithful, even when you don't wish it."
Light spilled from her hand and slid past Evelyn, illuminating the area behind her. Cole stepped forward. "It's hard to hide when there's no moon to stop me shining, but she still didn't see me. She always sees me."
"Don't worry, little one. She will see you when she needs to," said Flemeth. Evelyn started at the endearment. "So, Mythal's spoken to you. I thought she might. She has a soft spot for bitter females. I should know."
"I'm not bitter," she said.
Flemeth gave her a pitying look. "You're so angry that you've forgotten what it feels like not to ache. The golden walls of your cage are beautiful and contain all the heavens, but they vex you no less for that."
Cole spoke. "The guards want to free you, but their need is bigger than their want. They scold themselves for their weakness. It won't stop them from having your pieces. Josephine will take your voice, Cullen your body, Leliana your mind. They can't help themselves. Don't hate them."
"I don't hate them. I couldn't. I volunteered for my job." She raised her chin in defiance.
"You lie," Cole said. "The happiness and sadness mix like mud in water, and I can't help you anymore. I'll keep trying."
"It matters little," Flemeth said. "Your role is set. And there is always strength to be found in anger, if it's wielded the right way."
She was tired of riddles. "Where is Mythal? Is she still inside you? And what about what you borrowed from Kieran?"
"So many questions, just like an interrogation. No, she hasn't joined me in this awakening, and taken the soul that might have sustained my immortality. Still, it seems she was kind enough to extend me one more life to pay for all."
Evelyn scoffed. "You could have amulets scattered across all of Thedas."
"I could at that."
"Why would Mythal abandon her guardian?"
Flemeth chortled. "Her guardian! How fanciful. More partner than caretaker, in my mind." She grew thoughtful. "But were I her guardian, well, when does one leave a protector behind? When she finds a stronger one. I hope she's not misjudged."
"So you know where she is? Is she inside someone else?"
"Guesses are not knowledge, and my memory doesn't extend as far as my… statue's might have. I wouldn't want to disappoint you, little one." Evelyn ground her teeth. Flemeth continued. "Still, if she wants you to find her, she'll speak to you again, of that I've no doubt."
She played her last card. "Her protectors are here. From her temple. They're looking for her. If she needs protection, she should have them, too. Tell me where she is so I can take them to her."
Flemeth smiled. "I think for protectors to be worthy, they must do more than be led by the hand. If they are so worthy, why is it you who speaks to me and not them?"
Because I don't trust them, she thought, and I need her to explain what's happening to me.
"You're wise not to trust. Some traps are the ones we build ourselves." Evelyn glared at her. "Your shadow is not the only one who can see thoughts when it wishes. And besides, you're closer to all your goals than you realize. I've answered many questions, now answer mine. Where is my daughter?"
"I don't know," Evelyn said bitingly. "I think for mothers to be worthy, they have to want more than to steal their daughter's body." A thought struck her. "Do you think Mythal fled to Morrigan?"
Flemeth pressed her lips together. "Unwise to blame where you know nothing. You understand even less of me than you do of her. Morrigan is in thrall to a being is much more dangerous to her than I will ever be. To your last, I can't say. But it would be a surprising turn of events if she had." She stepped away, widening the space between them. "I thank you for your assistance, even given only to serve your own ends. Be well, Inquisitor. Don't forget that keys work both ways."
Evelyn remembered Varric's story, remembered Morrigan, and pulled Cole back under the shadows of the trees. After a tearing moment, a dragon lifted off and flew west, away from the lightening sky. She heard shouts coming from the camp, and Elen sprinted back into the clearing. She was exhausted already from the questions they would ask her. She realized she still knew nothing about Mythal, nothing about Solas, and nothing about her inner turmoil. She wanted to scream. Cole touched her arm and whispered, "Forget." Her weariness lifted, and she looked at him surprise. He smiled sadly. "It's only a small help."
She listened to the commotion all around them. "Sometimes that's all we need."
Guards followed her, for so-called protection, everywhere she went in the days after Flemeth left. Orders from Leliana had been clear but unnecessary. The camp reached consensus without any extra input. She sometimes thought it was only her status as the Inquisitor that kept them from locking her in the stocks at night. A symbol could not be spanked for disobedience, though, so she remained free in name. In practice, it was like the early days of the Inquisition, when no one trusted her, and she twisted and pounded against their tightening grip on her life. It was worse for Elen, who didn't have her protections. He had been sent back to Skyhold in chains, to face the Nightingale's judgment. He was taking a punishment that should be given to her. She resented that most of all.
She went to see him before they left, to try to apologize for what her actions had cost him. He didn't acknowledge it, only asked if she'd learned what she needed.
He needed it to have been worth it, she realized. She gripped his hand and lied with an easy heart. "Yes, Elen. It was essential."
Her companions showed their anger in ways great and small. While she'd managed to contain much of the truth from the group at large, Cole had ensured they and her advisors knew almost everything - Flemeth, her daughter, the soul of the god that floated in Thedas. Solas, and the dark voice living inside of her, remained her only secrets and she guarded them even more fiercely in the face of their disapproval. She knew it wasn't fair to blame them. They felt disrespected, for the good reason that she had valued herself over them all. She tried to understand their hurt. But they showed no inclination to understand that she'd had to. Some things had to be done. Her contempt for their blindness built higher walls between them.
Cassandra barely spoke to her. Only when they trained against each other would she offer words at all, hard and dry words of instruction or corrections to her form. When Evelyn tried to engage her on anything else, her face drew into angry lines, and she said nothing. The one response she got came after she threw her daggers to the ground and said, "Why even train me if you think I'm so stupid?"
Cassandra said heatedly, "If the Inquisitor takes herself into danger with no regard for the life she gambles, she needs to be able to defend it against anything. Pick up your daggers."
Sera was angrier for the risk that the camp had run, with a dragon so close. Over the weeks they'd gained civilians, refugees or spouses or children, and all she saw was the fear they'd suffered. Evelyn tried to explain that there'd been no danger, that Flemeth wasn't hostile, and Sera rolled her eyes. "How'd you know that, then?"
"I just know! And she wasn't, so what are you so mad about?"
"Oh sure, it's okay cause you were right. You know and we don't. You're the important one. If the rest get hurt, it's all acceptable losses as long as you get yours, yeah?" She stalked away, calling over her shoulder, "Your noblosity is showing again."
Cole kept his distance. The feelings in her he couldn't fix made him anxious and skittish. He was sharing blame from the group for not stopping her, for only watching, and he repeated their critical thoughts about him to himself until he was hoarse and exhausted. Iron Bull was disappointed in her as a leader, one who'd placed herself above the men under her command. He made more than one cutting reference to the loyalty he felt to the Chargers. Dorian simply tried to reason with her endlessly. She asked him if she promised to never do anything stupid again if he would leave her alone. He said that he would never trust her to keep that promise, or anything like it. So she couldn't, and he continued to argue.
Only Varric showed any sympathy, but it came with a heavy dose of guilt. "You do realize that you're the glue holding this operation together, right?" he asked one day in her tent. He silenced her protest. "I know you don't think so, that the troops will keep moving and the information will keep flowing, and in some ways you're right, but the heart of this thing? That's you."
"I didn't ask for that," she said.
"You accepted it."
"I had no choice."
"There's always a choice. You made us who we are, all of us. For some of us, you're all we have. Is it any wonder that we're insulted when you try to throw us away? And don't lie, Inquisitor, you've been trying for months to cut us loose. We just didn't realize you might try to die to do it," he said.
She flushed. "That's not true."
"The Chargers get job offers they didn't ask for. My publisher wants to see me urgently, but it's never urgent. Letters of reconciliation from House Pavus for Dorian. Cassandra's been encouraged to rebuild the Seekers, far away from Skyhold. We've noticed that the hand that sets these things in motion has a suspiciously green glow."
"You have lives. You have responsibilities. You don't need me anymore," she said. I don't want you to need me anymore. Leave while you like me, not because you hate me.
He shook his head and stood to leave. "It's starting to feel like the other way around, Your Worship."
She cried only in the Fade. It was safe in her dreams now. The darkness of the forest hadn't come to her in weeks, and the demons kept a wary distance. In early days, dark spirits had circled around her, sensing her power to release them into the world. They'd threatened, cajoled, seduced and begged to be released. They'd used her sorrows and her joys against her and tested for weak spots. More than once she'd almost broken, almost opened a Rift and let them through just to make it stop. Solas had shielded her, kept her whole.
She had no weak spots now. Demons danced in the distance, watching her. She felt them probe her heart but find no purchase and no way in. So while she knelt sobbing in a desolate dreamscape, she celebrated as well. Her strength was unmatched in any world, and she needed no one to protect her. Blackwall might have betrayed her, her friends might despise her, Solas might have abandoned her, but she had made herself whole alone.
Eventually she realized a spirit was standing near her, unmoving, and had been for some time. She looked up. Instead of a spirit, Solas watched her, but a Solas she hardly recognized. He was emaciated and pale, his eyes dull. His weariness was a tangible force, here in the Fade, and she wondered what his physical body looked like if his dream of himself was this.
"What troubles you, my friend?" His voice was cracked, no longer smooth and assured.
She jumped to her feet. "What's wrong? What's happened to you?"
He swayed. He had trouble focusing on her. "I've been running. But I rest here now, with you."
She placed her hands on his shoulders and tried to give him some of her strength. "How did you find me?" she asked. "There's nothing here but emptiness."
"I felt your need. I -" He coughed, once, hacking and painful. "I'm so tired. I miss my brothers. I'm glad to have seen you again. I don't wish to die alone."
She gripped him fiercely. "I won't let you die. That's not the end I give my friends."
"My end has been written for a long time. Even you have no power over it. I only hope it can keep you safe." He placed his hand over hers, the one that held the anchor. Something feral and alien swirled across his face. "I never meant for you to have this burden. I was arrogant. I called myself Solas, pride, to remember its dangers and its price. Instead, I became the danger, and you paid."
She shook her head. "I don't understand. Tell me where you are, physically, I'll come and find you. We'll help you. We'll talk. Please, help me understand." Her voice rose, pleading.
A triumphant voice echoed around them, her own darkness both inside and outside. Its pleasure rolled off of every word. "So, you've come close enough at last. I'm afraid I must interrupt." A hand reached through the space beside her, as if through a curtain, and with a small crack Solas was gone.
"I'll be waiting, my lady."