Chapter 26

The Minor Inconveniences of Dragon Breath

"The more you give a damn, the more you risk. And when you risk, you'll pay for it. Responsibility isn't free, and it sure as hell isn't fun."
– Game of Thrones (Season 4, Episode 6), Tyrion Lannister

The crude misshapen stone was the table where Leliana, Cullen and Josephine convened at in the tunnels, away from the makeshift camp housing the survivors for a semblance of privacy. All the Inquisition companions save Cole, who was still travelling with the Valo-kas portion of the Inquisition, were gathered, their expressions grim.

Desire stood at my side, her pink-hued kossith form imposing despite her aloof expression.

The tension in the air was almost palpable. Cassandra was the first to speak, her voice low with her fury. "You've gone too far, Herald." Her hand clenched around her sword. "You brought a Desire demon into the Waking world? Do you even understand the magnitude of what you've done?!" She took a deep breath, "In case you do not know, if you've never learned, Herald, the qualities that desire demons are known for are corruption, possession, manipulation. What deal did you make, Herald? What price will we all pay for this mistake?"

I stood straight, arms folded as I met Cassandra's glare. "Desire swore an oath. She will not harm anyone unless in self-defense, nor will she attempt to coerce or possess anyone."

Vivienne scoffed loudly, her sharp eyes narrowing. "And you trust her? A Desire demon, bound by an oath? Such creatures are masters of twisting words, bending truths to suit their whims. Or are you just naïve, Herald?"

"Desire used the same oath-binding spell I did." I replied, my voice firm despite the cold knot in my stomach. "She cannot break it."

"Spirits and demons are not like us," Dorian said, stepping forward, his tone measured but laced with unease. "Even when bound by an oath, their true nature will come through. To bring such a being into the Waking world is reckless, Herald."

Desire stepped in front of me, her movements languid, almost feline, an invisible pressure building that set everyone further on edge. "I am always true to my nature, mage. Just as you are true to yours. But tell me," she leaned in slightly, her voice a silken whisper, "how many lives would you have lost had Erelani not called upon me? How many of your precious soldiers would be rotting in those tunnels if I hadn't agreed to help?"

Iron Bull crossed his arms, his gaze lingering on Desire, wary. "She's got a point. But demons don't do things out of the kindness of their hearts. What's she getting out of this, Boss?"

I hesitated, knowing the answer would only deepen their mistrust. "Freedom," I admitted. "A chance to exist in the Waking world without being hunted or feared. That was her price for helping us save the lives of the injured soldiers in Haven."

The room erupted. Cassandra was calling for her immediate removal. Dorian suggested binding her, while Leliana's voice cut through with a cold demand for contingency plans. Josephine tried to calm the rising tempers, her voice drowned out by the heated arguments.

Maxwell's voice sliced through the noise, the loudest of them all. "This is madness! You want a Desire demon to roam free? You're inviting disaster, Erelani! Who would want to help the Inquisition after this? Who?!"

Desire raised her hands in mock surrender, her tone saccharine sweet. "My, my, such hostility. It's like they've forgotten that it was you, Erelani, that saved the Inquisition soldiers by reaching out to me." Her gaze settled on me, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "Erelani, dearest, it seems like the leaders of the Inquisition have no faith in you." Desire shook her head mockingly, "And that too after all that you've done."

"Don't you dare twist this," Cassandra growled, drawing her sword halfway from its sheath.

"Twist it?" Desire's smile widened, sharp and predatory. "Oh, no. I'm simply stating facts. I could have refused, let your people die in agony. But I didn't. I stepped into your world, exposed myself to your hatred and judgment," Desire's face turned dark, "and why? Because I was asked to help." She turned to me, her eyes burning with an intensity that felt like a vice around my heart. "Because you needed me, Erelani."

Silence descended for a long moment after Desire's words.

Cullen shook his head, his voice heavy with restraint. "This isn't about semantics or philosophy. It's about trust. About safety. How can we trust a creature whose very nature is greed?"

Desire's gaze flicked to him, her smile thinning. "And how can I trust any of you? You speak of safety, yet you're all so eager to cut me down, to destroy what you don't understand." She took a step closer, her presence like a dark tide rising. "Ask I recall, Commander, didn't Erelani, your Herald, receive the same welcome?"

"This is a prime example of Desire's talent at corruption and manipulation," Vivienne interjected, her tone icy. "Let us not mince words, Herald. You've brought a poison into our midst."

"Poison?" Desire's golden eyes gleamed. "How quaint. But tell me, Madame de Fer, who here hasn't wanted something deeply, desperately? Who hasn't acted on their desires, justified them as noble or necessary? Is it truly so different from what I am? I simply... embrace the truth you all deny."

Her words hung in the air, sinking into the room's charged atmosphere. No matter how much I understood the anger and fear displayed by the others, I could not deny the truth of Desire's words. After all these years with Desire, despite the manipulation and torture I endured at her hands, this was why I stayed.

Desire unrepentantly and wholly embraced who she was.

I looked around the room, at the faces of those who had fought beside me and pledged their loyalty to the Inquisition. Desire might have been a demon, but she had always been honest about who she was. Could I say the same for anyone else here?

Solas, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke, his voice low and grave, his eyes focused on me. "Even if Desire keeps to her oath, her presence will draw attention. People will not see her as an ally. They will see her as a threat. And they will see you as the one who allowed her to remain."

"I'm aware of the risks," I replied, meeting his gaze, and patiently repeated my words, "But Desire has already proven she's willing to help. She saved lives during the ritual. That means something."

The leaders exchanged wary glances. Finally, Leliana broke the quiet.

"Is this the same Desire demon from the Breach, Herald?" she asked, her tone cold.

I paused, sharing a long look with Desire. "Yes, this is the same spirit." I took a deep breath, "I have known Desire longer than anyone, longer than even Thranduil."

"And?" Leliana's words were sharp, her eyes assessing, "Do you trust her?"

In a distrustful atmosphere like this where each word was being weighed, I could not lie.

"As much as I trust anyone else in this room." I answered, my heart constricted with the raw honesty, forcing me to face the extent of my isolation. Desire, my longest companion, was not more trustworthy than Iron Bull, the Ben-Hassrath agent, Vivienne, the politicking mage and Solas, the man who wanted to bring down the Veil.

"Very well," Leliana nodded, her eyes hard. "But know this, Herald: the moment she endangers the Inquisition, the moment her actions bring harm to our cause, I will not hesitate to act."

Desire chuckled softly. "Why, if friends receive such a welcome, I wonder at the state of the Inquisition's diplomacy."

An uneasy silence descended upon the cavern, before one by one, everyone left.

I turned to Desire, my voice barely above a whisper. "Do you understand now, why I was refusing to bring you to the Waking world?"

Her smile returned, soft, almost pitying. "I see fear, Erelani. Fear of the unknown. But don't worry, my dear." She placed a hand on my shoulder, her touch warm and unsettling. "You have power. And might makes right."

I rolled my eyes, and she raised an eyebrow but said nothing more. Desire watched me with a strange, unreadable expression, her eyes momentarily dulling into something that looked almost...lonely.

"Welcome to the Inquisition," I said quietly. I patted her shoulder. "Try not to get us killed."

Desire smiled wickedly, her golden eyes gleaming. "I'll do my best, dearest. I wouldn't want to lose you, after all, not after putting so much effort into keeping you alive."

Leliana, Cullen and Josephine were distant. It was the same kind of distance they'd put between us when they learned what I was—an abomination.

It had gotten better before. It would get better again.

I sighed, unable to believe my own reassurances. It would take time before Desire's presence became normal, if it ever did.

My gaze drifted to Thranduil who still lay unconscious. The spirit healing had been miraculous, mending wounds that should have been fatal, but it had been a mass healing—broad, unfocused, and imperfect. Though the wounds were healed, the scars remained.

Thranduil's face had once been a study in perfection—but now, that face was gone, buried beneath the devastation of dragon fire.

My eyes closed, my chest burning in guilt before steeling myself to examine his scars.

His face was an expanse of mottled flesh, the burns pulling his features into unnatural shapes. His cheekbone had collapsed inward slightly, the tissue around it hollowed and tight, while his jawline was distorted, the left corner of his mouth twisted into a grimace even in rest. His nose, flattened and partially melted into his face, bore a bridge that was jagged and uneven. The scarring stretched down his neck, blotchy and raw, disappearing beneath the collar of his tunic. The worst of it lay hidden, but I didn't need to see more.

This wasn't Thranduil—not the man who once made me forget how to speak.

Grief surged, unrelenting and tears blurred his unconscious form. These scars weren't just marks of pain—they were monuments to the sacrifices he had made. It was the evidence of his selflessness. His resilience. His unwavering leadership.

I covered my face, desperate to hide the tears that refused to stop.

He was still here, still breathing, still alive. What he looked like didn't matter to me, it had never mattered to me. But how would he feel? What could I possibly say to comfort him? And what about Ellana? She didn't even know!

My chest tightened, breaths growing shallow as guilt sunk deep into my bones. I had known the risks, yet I'd made the call. Even if Thranduil forgave me, I could never forgive myself.

Desire placed a shoulder on me, jolting me out of my thoughts. I stayed still for a long moment, face buried in my arms, trying to gather my composure.

"Erelani, grief and guilt are plenty in this cavern. Get up."

I lifted my head and met her piercing eyes. "What now?" I asked, my voice flat with exhaustion.

Desire had a hard look on her face, "You need to get supplies, food in particular. Hunger spirits have started to circle this region of the Fade."

Her words hit like a slap, grounding me. I glanced around the cavern, taking in the hollow faces of the others, their sunken eyes and gaunt cheeks. I nodded, pulling myself upright. "Right, supplies next."

I assembled Solas, Dorian, and Vivienne, and we made our way out of the cavern, slipping through one of the side tunnels. The midday sun greeted us as we emerged beside the river near the Temple of Sacred Ashes, the snow glaring after the darkness of the cavern.

Fiona and two other mages joined us, trailing behind. At the rear of the group, Desire followed with her usual air of disinterest, yawning audibly, the cautious, fearful glances cast her way ignored.

Desire's confidence really was something else.

Solas stepped up close to me, "Be careful, Herald. The rift you open this time will be different. It must not suction anything in or out, like the ones that spawned after the Breach." He said in that calm measured tone of his, "The rift must be still and stable. If it pulls too much, even for a moment, spirits will swarm to it."

"I understand."

Ahead, Fiona, Dorian, and Vivienne exchanged uneasy glances, their tension palpable. It was Vivienne who finally broke the silence, her tone measured but edged with concern.

"I recall how poorly you reacted the last time you crossed into the Fade, my dear," she said, one brow arched. "Are you certain this is wise?"

"Needs must, Madam De Fer." I scanned the others, waiting for further objections, but none came. I shifted in unease, I had done this once before, but the presence of an audience was discomfiting.

I raised my hand, letting the anchor's energy swirl, the searing heat biting up my skin. The power built, and I opened a rift, tugging outward instead of the sealing motion I usually did. The rift crackled, threatening to split wider with the outpour of Fade energy and I used the residual energy left from the build-up in the Mark to hold the rift stable.

"Excellent, Herald." Solas said, his voice measured as always, but there was a flicker of admiration in his tone, "You are mastering the use of the Anchor."

A tingle went up my spine at his warmth and I glanced back at him only for his eyes to swing away from me upon eye contact.

I glanced back at the open rift shoving my feelings away.

It meant nothing now.

"I'll be back as quickly as I can," I said, my voice calm. "Hold this area until then."

Without waiting for a response, I stepped forward and vanished into the Fade.

I emerged into Minanter forest from the Fade and closed the second rift behind me, breathing hard to recover from the dizziness and double vision caused by the Mark. I fade-stepped onto the main street, and the sight of people walking freely—laughing, talking, alive—made my stomach twist. It was jarring to such peace in Wycome after the devastation of Haven. My eyes scanned the shops near City Hall, until they landed on a familiar figure.

Ellana.

She stood next to a merchant, scanning a list as she conversed with him. Her brows were furrowed, and she seemed frazzled, her red hair fraying around her face, but there was a strong sense of purpose in her bearing.

My throat tightened at the realization that I would soon ruin her peace.

"Ellana!" I called, my voice hoarse.

She turned sharply, her bright green eyes widening as she saw me. "Hahren?" she said, shocked, before rushing towards me. Her expression shifted to concern as she took in my appearance. "Creators, what happened? Why are you here?"

I grabbed her arm, pulling her away out of earshot of the other passersby. "Haven has fallen," I said bluntly, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. "The Elder One attacked. Most of them escaped, but barely. Thranduil…" My voice faltered, but I forced myself to continue. "He's alive, but he was caught in dragon fire."

Ellana's face paled, her eyes widening in horror. "Thranduil…" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Dragon fire? How is he—"

"He's been healed but he's still unconscious," I interrupted, guilt twisting in my chest at the raw pain in her eyes. "Ellana, we have nothing—no food, no medicine. The Breach is still open, and Haven won't last without help."

She swayed slightly, her lips parting as if to argue, but she steadied herself with a sharp breath. "What do you need?"

"Anything you can spare—food, potions, water. Furs, if possible. It's freezing."

Ellana hesitated for only a moment before nodding, her expression hardening with determination. "Of course, I'll come with you," she said. "Give me a moment to gather what I can."

She disappeared into the merchant's stall and returned minutes later, her arms laden with supplies—potions, bandages, dried meat and an assortment of herbs. "This won't be enough, we have to get in touch with Keeper Deshanna and Lady Guinevere." she said, her voice tight with worry, before she frowned in thought "She may be able to arrange donations with the Council's help."

"It'll have to do," I said. "Let's go see Keeper Deshanna."

Keeper Deshanna agreed to arrange a donation, but her attention was elsewhere. She moved with a clipped urgency, her words brief and distracted as she conferred with her aides. Council meetings overlapped, their voices a low hum behind closed doors, and though I caught no specifics, the air teemed with restlessness. Something was afoot.

Her face was grim as she bid us farewell, the weight of unspoken worries lining her features.

I reminded myself she could handle it. The Keeper and the Council had their own battles to fight, and I didn't have the luxury of stepping into theirs. I had to trust them, just as they trusted me to deal with Haven. Priorities.

The oath eased its tenacious grip on me with the rationalisation.

I exhaled sharply, shaking off the lingering effects of the oath. "Come on," I said, glancing at Ellana, who hefted the supplies into her arms. Her expression mirrored my unease, but she followed without a word, fade-stepping back to Minanter forest.

Ellana hesitated as I opened the rift again, her fingers tightening on the supplies she carried. Her fear was evident in the stiffness of her posture, her wide eyes darting toward the crackling tear.

"Ellana," I said gently, stepping closer. "You'll be fine. Just stay close to me, and don't let go of the supplies."

Her fear didn't abate. Her shaking intensified as she looked around the Fade, her eyes locking onto the ominous Black City.

She wouldn't be able to fade-step in this condition.

I sighed and cast a wide array, pulling Ellana and the supplies into the Fade-step. My mana drained dangerously as I stumbled through the rift, fighting the Mark's disorienting pull. I stumbled out of the rift, half-dragging Ellana along with me, before falling to my knees. My vision doubled, the Mark flaring angrily before a familiar pair of hands covered it.

"Focus on the ground. On the breath in your lungs." Solas knelt beside me, his voice low and steady, his hands gripping mine tightly as he channelled energy to calm the Mark. "Focus on the here and now."

The soothing cadence of his words cut through the haze, grounding me. I inhaled deeply, then exhaled, the vertigo ebbing as I centred myself. The searing heat of the Mark dulled, and my vision began to clear.

I raised my head and met his worried blue eyes, my voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you."

Solas's expression flickered, something unreadable almost startled, before he abruptly released my hand, as though stung. He nodded curtly and backed away, before turning quickly to Ellana.

I ignored his reaction, because it meant nothing to me. It had to mean nothing.

The supplies weren't enough. Not nearly enough.

If we were going to secure the volume needed, I needed more people that were willing to brave the Fade.

The success of the first trip swayed others. Desire and Solas volunteered. Dorian, ever the scholar, was curious enough to join. Vivienne and Fiona only agreed to join because they feared the lack of a Circle Mage in the expedition.

Ellana joined too. She could not bear to sit still next to Thranduil's unconscious body, desperate to be busy rather than face her worried thoughts.

Maxwell and Cassandra took up watch at the rift zone alongside the mages, their presence bolstering the defenses.

But preparation required more than just numbers; I had learned my lesson with Ellana and her reaction to the raw Fade. I would not be able to fade-step such a large party with an array if they froze in fear.

The next day I spent hours teaching the mages how to anchor themselves properly and walking them through the intricacies of such a spell. I replicated the array I had drawn, and ran through various iterations of the same spell, in-case they became overwhelmed with the raw Fade.

Solas, Desire and Dorian only listened for a moment before wandering to the side to watch the progress of others, apparently well-versed in the spell.

I ignored the light blue eyes focused unwaveringly on me.

It meant nothing.

The streets of Wycome bustled with life, the marketplace alive with merchants haggling and carts creaking under heavy loads. The salty tang of the sea mingled with the metallic bite of the blacksmith's forge and the earthy perfume of fresh herbs.

Ellana and I were negotiating bulk orders for requisition, while the other mages stayed behind near the rift, delivering crates of supplies to Haven as they arrived.

"You've been quiet, Hahren." Ellana said, glancing at me as we stopped to barter with a merchant. Her red hair glinted in the sunlight, a sharp contrast to the grim determination in her eyes. "The requisitions are going smoothly. Is something on your mind?"

I adjusted the strap of my satchel and hesitated. "I can't shake the feeling that something's coming." I admitted. "That I missed something."

Ellana frowned, her hand pausing mid-reach as she paid the merchant. "Do you think it's safe to keep using the rift?"

"No," I said flatly, earning a startled glance from the merchant. "But we don't have a choice."

Ellana sighed and handed over the coin. "Then let's not waste time. The faster we get back, the better."

We were at the outskirts of the city when it happened.

A rain of arrows darkened the sky, their deadly arcs slicing through the air before striking the city wall.

Ellana and I exchanged quick looks, "Find out what's happening from Keeper Deshanna, Ellana. I'll let the others know Wycome is under attack."

She shook her head, troubled, "Sometimes I hate it when you're right, Hahren." She disappeared back into the city and I fade-stepped to the rift, dropping off the crates to the next mage, Fiona's waiting hands as she readied herself to step into the Fade.

Dorian emerged from the rift, his expression unsettled from the Fade before shifting to concern at my expression. "Herald, what is it now?"

"Bad news." I let my voice carry so that Vivienne, Solas and Desire could hear. "Wycome is under attack."

An uncomfortable silence fell, broken first by Solas, "As unfortunate as their situation is, Herald, we are not in a position to provide aid."

"Finally, a point made by the apostate hobo that I can agree with." Vivienne said, "They have defenses, soldiers and resources. They are far better equipped than we are, Herald."

Another volley of arrows rent the sky, the sharp whistle of their descent piercing the air.

I gritted my teeth, my gaze locking on Desire as she smirked and chuckled condescendingly. "My, my, are none of their words are reaching you, Erelani? Why is that? Because this is your city? What about the others? The ones desperately trying to escape Haven after the attack by the Elder One? Are they not your people, relying on you?"

I looked away, unmoved by her provocation. I paced back and forth agitatedly. Why was Ellana taking so long?

"Herald," Dorian began hesitantly, "this city is fortified. They will be fine without you."

I remained silent. Fiona approached slowly, her tone cautious, "What are you waiting for, Herald?"

"I am sworn to protect all the people in Thedas, not just the Inquisition." I answered solemnly, "Ellana has gone to learn the situation in Wycome. I'm waiting for her."

I closed my eyes and focused on Ellana's rune. It pulsed faintly in my mind—she was in the heart of the city. Suddenly, she was on the move.

"Hahren!" Ellana materialized beside me, breathless, her voice edged with panic. "The nobles who fled Wycome have rallied armies from nearby cities. They're claiming an elven uprising has overrun the city, and they're starting with the alienages. They're killing anyone who stands in their way."

"Didn't the Council fortify the city?" I asked.

"They did. The arrows are the only things getting through and there have been no casualties so far."

"Do the Council have this handled?"

Ellana paused, her expression shifting from confusion to grim understanding, "The alienage has been evacuated, and the garrison is holding. They can manage without you, Hahren. If you want to return to Haven—"

A deafening roar split the air, shaking the ground beneath our feet.

"Oh dear," Fiona whispered, her voice trembling, "Not again."

I turned towards the sound.

A red dragon cut through the clouds, its scales shimmering with a sickly crimson glow in the sun. On its back, a cloaked rider clung to the beast as it unleashed a torrent of flame, fires sweeping through the city.

Screams rent the air, echoing to the outskirts of the city.

"Imposter!" A terrible guttural voice echoed through the air, "Show yourself! Know me! Know what you have pretended to be! Exalt the Elder One! The will that is Corypheus!"

Terror gripped me only for a second before the compulsion of the oath faded completely.

Finally.

My heart thudded furiously. Tingles rushed up my spine and I felt the sides of my cheeks ache.

Ellana's terrified face froze upon seeing me. "Hahren, why are you smiling?"

"It seems Wycome will need us after all," I said, the crazed grin unrelenting on my face as fire and screams consumed the city.

Oh, I was looking forward to this.

AN:

So, I split the chapter.

Perhaps someone will guess what happens next? Or not? I am excited to have the story pan out in its whole. Even have an epilogue outlined, but it seems like it would be better for it to be its own mini series.

I've been excited about this story after a long time. It's a plot that makes sense for my version of Dragon Age.

I have said that this isn't a tragedy, right? It will be dark though and have some mature themes. Nothing too severe, but I've never seen the world of Dragon Age as something that is easy and kid friendly (sorry Bioware! Just my opinion here!)

Anyways feedback is always welcome.