Relationships: I feel like it’s a little early for that…
Summary: Siheta and the Iron Bull have a very candid discussion.
Notes: Don't get excited. I'm not...I mean, I've been sitting on this for a while and thinking it wasn't any good. I figured, it wouldn't hurt to post it.
“The Iron Bull.”
The mercenary captain in question was almost startled to have Siheta approach him, let alone speak to him.
“That’s my name.” he grumbled, eyeing her with unmasked suspicion.
She lifted a single eyebrow, almost as if she didn’t believe his statement ….then again, she was always looking at him like she didn’t trust him. He didn’t really blame her. In fact, it was nice of her to do him the courtesy of conveying genuine emotion. Sure, it was doubt, but at least he was confident it was authentic.
“A word in private, if you please?” It wasn’t a request. That much was obvious as she turned and sauntered away.
Bull sighed, rolling his eye expressively in Krem’s general direction before hefting himself up and following. She walked into the tavern, which felt odd. He supposed he could understand the logic. There are two entrances/exits and both were easy to monitor. Still, it didn’t fit with...well, with them. The tavern was a place of revelry, and the mood between them was tense at best.
“You know, if we keep this up, people are gonna think we’re fucking.” He drawled.
She did not dignify that with a response, and he was a little perturbed that even the notion of it didn't so much as make her blink. Did anything get a rise out of this woman? Or was she just a cold fish through and through?
“I don’t really know you, the Iron Bull.” she began. “However, if I did, I think I would like you very much.” Now it’s his turn to look unconvinced. “You tend to make everyone around you very happy, and in spite of how intimidating you appear… you make them feel safer if you can.” she explained. Her eyes drifted, as though she were inspecting those words them seconds after she’d spoken them. She evidently approved of them, sealing them with a nod. “Yes. I would probably like you very much, were it not for the Qun.”
He gave a single big nod at that, snickering as he sat down in his usual spot. It felt a little weird to be in here with no one else.
“All that isn’t to say that I don’t appreciate you as you are, but...well.” she turned and walked around the table, sitting down once the length of the entire table was between them. “The Qun makes me nervous for many reasons, most of which I’m sure you can understand without my naming them.”
He had the good sense to look squeamish. “Is that what you asked me here for…? To talk about the Qun?”
“No.” she soothed, settling forward onto her elbows. “I’m prefacing our conversation with this because there’s something else that I want to tell you. And I want you to understand, I’m not telling you this because I have any desire to see your reaction to it. I’m telling you this because you’re the only Qunari I know here; and, more to a point, you’re the only Qunari Amy knows.”
Bull’s face froze as he considered this. Slowly, very slowly, he nodded for her to continue. “Alright.”
“Last night, Amy said two words in perfect Qunlat while she slept. She said these two words twice in succession. Then she settled again.”
“You know Qunlat?”
“Why wouldn’t I? It was my parents’ first language.” she said with an almost doting smile. It was strangely reminiscent of the Tamasaren he had been so familiar with… His only response to her statement was to shrug.
“Well, don’t keep me on the edge of my seat, woman. What’d she say?”
“Katoh, Hissrad.”
At that, everything in the Iron Bull went still. As if the words were a trigger that literally made him stop.
His brain was trying to process what she was telling him, but it didn’t make any sense no matter what angle he tried to approach it in.
Amy shouldn’t know about ‘Hissrad’. No one should...Not that she hadn’t gained a reputation for knowing what she shouldn’t. And he’d never given her the ‘just say ‘Katoh’’ speech (though if he’d had the occasion to do so, he’d be one lucky son of a bitch as it’s usually a prelude to more enjoyable things).
When he finally remembered where he was and came back to himself enough to cover his tells, he was more than a little irritated to note that Siheta looked strangely satisfied. Dammit, he gave her that one. She just dropped two words, two repeated words that Amy had said, and he forgot to hold his reaction. Vashedan!
“To be clear… you’re just.. telling me this. Like..” he leaned back, throwing his right arm over the chair back while making a vague encompassing motion with his left arm. “...like just for the sake of letting me know it happened?”
“Well…” she began before letting out a heavy sigh, that damn-near indulgent smirk on her face still. “I don’t know anyone named Hissrad, but I reason that you may.”
“You know that the Qun is big, right?” Bull grumbled. “And besides, it’s less of a name and more of a title. There could be a bunch of guys walking around as Hissrad.”
Both of her eyebrows rose so loftily as she nodded with an almost amused hum. “Would we call this collective of Hissrads a Qun or a Ben hassrath?”
He half growled, but it only earned him a soft chuckle. At least someone was enjoying this brouhaha. Still...the fact that she was being so congenial was...it felt more like light-hearted teasing than barbed discourse.
“I am only telling you for your benefit.” Siheta soothed, and yet he wasn’t the least bit soothed. “Take it as you will. After all…” she shrugged. “It could’ve just been a random dream.”
He huffed out an exasperated breath, full of his disbelief and bitterness. No matter how it may seem, things were seldom ‘just random nonsense’ when it came to Amy.
He snapped back into himself, into his persona when she shifted to stand up. She rifled through the sling pouch on at her waist. His brow lifted when she sets a canister of horn balm on the table.
“Amy got some for you too, huh?” he asked.
“She did.”
He squinted at her as she pulled out the buffing cloth and brushes.
“...uh… You know, I got the same care package.” he figured his ‘you too’ question was enough to enforce that he also has all of this at his disposal.
“Maybe. But you’re doing it wrong.” she replied, brandishing the file. He huffed an indignant response. “You just smacked the balm on without doing any of the filing or buffing repair first.”
She slid up behind him, and he had to work real hard not to tense up when she began filing at the base of his horn. Even as it burned, there was a satisfying element that crept into his ear bones and down his neck. It’d been ages since anyone tended his horns for him.
“Can I assume you'll want similar treatment?” he finally managed to grind out.
He didn’t see her smile, but her words didn’t feel cheeky or cruel. “I wouldn’t be against it.” So ridiculously, ludicrously sincere, this interaction with a Tal-Vashoth. Well...maybe she wasn't exactly Tal-Vashoth since it was her parents who had defected. But still... she was of the opinion that the Qun was wrong and... and it felt strange to be able to relax around someone like that. This sort of thing was usually reserved for people he considered closer to him... He grunted and groaned about it because he had an image to uphold. It wasn’t as if he could just sit here and get pampered, after all.
He didn’t think she wanted to try and kill him… and if she did, he was certain he could take her. But as time passed, he began to relax. His horns needed the help since he had a heavy rack. She worked deftly, and all the irritation he felt simply melted away.
Then it was her turn, and she accepted his efforts with more grace than he’d accepted hers. Conversation and all, it took the better part of an hour before they were done… The door opened not a moment after he was finished making certain Siheta’s hair was fixed without getting any balm in it.
It was Magpie, of all people! Her eyes widen fractionally before returning to their more neutral position.
“Hey… I was looking for you two. Didn’t think I’d find you together.” she said, looking between them before her eyes darted around. “I especially didn’t expect to find Bull styling Siheta’s hair.”
“What! I wasn’t—”
“Why were you looking for us?” Siheta interrupted.
..well, if she wasn’t bothered, he wouldn’t be either.
Hmph.
“They want a gathering in the map room.” She announced, her eyes staying on Siheta. “Your presence is requested.”
Thedas Thurs: Horns In ~ My little kossith...a hilarious pun, as no kossith was ever little. Siheta Adaar’s life is rather bleak after the explosion at the conclave. Her entire band of mercenaries gone, and she’s surrounded by humans that fear and distrust her. Also, there’s an enormous Qunari about giving her his evil eye. When Amy comes along, her focus can finally shift onto something intriguing as opposed to her own depression. But avoidance is no way to deal with your problems... no matter how interesting the diversion is.
Relationships: I feel like it’s a little early for that…
Summary: As dreams went, she supposed being inside Dragon Age wasn’t too bad… At least she wasn’t the Herald (again). Or the Warden (again). Or Hawke (again).
Notes: Hope you guys enjoy this one :)
Amy breathed. Slow and deep as she stared down at the peer post. It was so hard to believe so much had happened so quickly. In the dawning light, it seemed so harmless.
Heavy footfalls drew her attention to her far right. A very familiar silhouette was emerging from the mist there. When the Iron Bull’s eye landed on her...her stomach sunk.
“Bull?” her voice was reedy and rusted. Reasonably so after… whatever had happened yesterday. She took a single step back.
The Iron Bull began to jog towards her.
No… not jog. Charge.
“Katoh.” she said, her voice soft, his approaching charge steamrolled over it. “Katoh, Hissrad.” a plea.
She couldn't imagine a reply from the Qun would come so quickly. There was no way they’d already decided to eliminate her…
She turned to survey her surroundings better… only to freeze.
It was dawn. Still. No one was out here. It wasn't as if everyone in Haven needed to be milling about every day at dawn, but no one?
When she looked back to Bull, the space between them was farther than it had been before.
He was still running. She had not moved from her spot by the docks. Yet he was farther away. And the sun was still just cresting the horizon.
Still.
Everything was… Still.
She turned to face him fully, planting her feet and squaring her shoulders.
“I. Said. Stop.” Her voice was loud, echoing through the valley though she hadn’t raised her voice. His pace slowed, more of a purposeful saunter now, and within scant seconds he stopped three paces from her.
It didn’t make any sense! ...it was like…
Her eyes doubled in size.
“Holy frothing frogs, I’m in the Fade.” she said.
The Iron Bull that was most certainly not The Iron Bull smiled at her. It was… unsettling. A familiar expression in a familiar face that somehow... was anything except familiar.
“What are you?” She demanded.
“Long have I circled around you, always from my side of the veil.” The Bull’s voice, but in Fade-Acoustics, so it sounded distant-echoey-and-yet-near. “From others around you, I see you. But never you… like learning to look for an absence. And I know you.”
Amy tried to stamp down her fear response, but it wasn’t easy. Every time she tried a breathing exercise she’d get caught up in the fact that she didn’t need to breathe. She literally had astral projected out of her body for this genuine Theadosian experience. She didn’t have lungs!
But her brain thought she did.
...it was the weirdest ‘The Matrix has you’ situation… at least thus far.
“Name yourself.” She commanded. She refused to call it a demon. If spirits were or could be as malleable as Solas suggested, she needed to keep a clear head.
“I am Confrontation.”
Oh.
Wait.
...what?
Was she…?
…..okay, yes.
She huffed out an astral-breath. “Seriously.” She couldn’t help the solitary chuckle that plopped out. “My first trip to the fade, first spirit I see...is Confrontation.”
Their eye narrowed. “You do not allow excuses to stop you. You refuse to be intimidated. You act in spite of opposition. And you bring others together and force them to face what is between them.” They nodded, seemingly satisfied with their assessment.
“Gawhd.” Amy grunted. “I am in the Fade.”
“Yes and no.” The spirit said. “This is more… hm.” They tilted their head. “It is difficult to explain.”
“It’s like a pocket dimension.” Siheta’s voice startled Amy, making her nearly jump away from the dock.
Siheta squatted, perched atop the dock in an easy crouch, as though she’d always been there. Her entrance felt a lot like she’d somehow figured out how to be Batman in spite of all this brightness.
“How?” Amy asked as the Kossith hopped down.
“You’re technically still not quite in the Fade.”
Amy’s eyes boggled.
“So...So, I’m dreaming and there’s a spirit,” so motioned to the Iron Confrontation. “And a dreamer is here,” and she motioned to Siheta. “And yet, I’m still not in the Fade?” Siheta smiled at her indignation.
“You’re dreaming the way you normally did before your crossing. You didn’t need the Fade there, did you?”
Amy sighed, drooping. Of course Siheta was right. She knew she was right.
“No.” she droned.
“Well, whatever happened in your crossing that sealed up your magic...it’s…” she shook her head. “It's safe to say that Sam’s mark broke through it. So now your magic is ...loose. It touches the veil in a way that we don’t.”
“Reaching out to you was not easy.” Confrontation added. “Even for those who have no magic, I can easily visit them. This required… effort.”
Amy looked between them, worry puckering her brow. “You’re...you’re not trapped here?”
“No.” Siheta assured. “Surprised at this turn of events, and smug that Solas hasn’t found his way here. But not trapped.”
“I am not trapped either.” Confrontation assured. “Only this contact required effort.”
Amy nodded, relief filtering through her. “Do you think Solas will show up here?”
“As soon as he figures out how, I imagine so.” Siheta grinned. “I’ve learned how to listen for you. And we’ve all been rather preoccupied since you fainted.”
“I fainted?” Amy demanded, appalled.
“Right into Commander Cullen’s burly arms.” Siheta whispered, as though it were some secret to cherish always, her hands coming up to rest against her heart.
“Let’s just keep that between ourselves, shall we?” Amy grumbled, face flattening at Siheta's antics.
The woman's eyes widened expressively. “I’d love to, but Varric was nearby so…”
“Fantastic.” Amy spat, the word sour in her mouth.
Siheta smirked. “Had Cullen and Sam tripping all over themselves.” She muttered, shaking her head. “It was a sight.”
“They enjoy controlling the dance.” Confrontation grumbled. “Being coy, fainting right and left to avoid what they imagine to be unpleasant.” They grinned at her. “Even incapacitated, you deny them that.”
“Alright.” Amy murmured, having enough of whatever that was.
“You could probably change this you know.” Siheta said, gesturing to their surroundings. Confrontation glared from the corner of their eye. Probably recognizing the diversionary tactic, and not appreciating it.
“I uh… I’ll just learn to crawl before I run.”
“Amy it’s you. Your head, your power, your dream.” Siheta soothed, her purple eyes kind and filled with delight. “I know, technically you aren’t a dreamer, but very few non-mages have the ability to control their dreams.”
“I know I could try it, but I’d just...rather not.”Amy said, sighing down at the ice. “At this point… I’m liable to make it look like home, and that’ll only make me more heartsick.” Siheta nodded her understanding.
“Because of your mother.” Confrontation blurted out.
Amy crossed her arms. “Yes. I miss my mother.” her voice a challenge.
“You aren’t upset because you miss her. You’re upset because you feel guilty and cheated, because you never told her that she is the measure by which you judge all women. Including yourself.”
Amy’s expression darkened. “I will punch you in your not real face if you don’t back off.” she said plainly.
Confrontation relaxed back onto their back foot. “Even when you wish to retreat, it isn’t without demanding it.” The admiration in that statement did not go unnoticed... Only, Amy wondered if that was necessarily the best thing to focus on. Was she unbearably relentless?
“I suppose you aren’t wrong.” Siheta decided with a smirk, and Amy could only pretend to glare for so long before just letting it go. “Would you like a change of topic?”
“Please?”
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
Amy took in a breath, letting it out slow as she tried to remember. “The doors of the chantry.”
“That tracks…” Siheta murmured. “But is this.. I mean…” She squinted, trying to figure out how to articulate her question. “This is your first dream?”
“Uh. Yeah.”
Siheta’s eyebrows rose. “I went to sleep a couple of hours ago, and you fainted not long after lunch.”
Amy’s brow puckered, not sure what that meant.
“Navigating the Dreaming isn’t easy…” Siheta shrugged as though she were trying to dismiss whatever she’d started. "You'll learn. I have faith."
“How…” Amy stopped herself, unsure of how to phrase any question as so many were demanding answers. “Ok.” She wet her lips. “How can we make it easier for Solas to get here?”
Siheta pursed her lips. “It makes sense that if the Dreaming and parts of it can enter your sphere… parts of your sphere could enter the Dreaming.”
“Uhhh…”
“I’m just thinking out loud here.” Siheta assured. “For me to get here, it was a combination of listening and feeling. Traversing here isn’t difficult when one can open portals… But could you open your own portals?” she squinted. “I don’t know. Theoretically, the answer should be yes...”
“The Fade strikes me as the sort of place one shouldn’t stumble about in.” Amy murmured.
“Such things haven’t stopped you before.”Confrontation reminded. Siheta sucked a breath between her teeth.
“You know the more I know you, the less I enjoy you.”Amy grumbled. Confrontation’s only response was one of those ‘I-call-it-as-I-see-it’ shrugs.
Siheta was still smirking at this interplay, but it wasn’t an unkind sort of smirk. Amy cleared her throat in hopes of clearing the air.
“Are you certain you want to try getting Solas here? Siheta asked.
Amy took a breath. “You really dislike him.” The statement was an observation, of course, but it was also a call for validation.
“I dislike how I feel about him.” Siheta refuted. Amy’s eyes sharpened. She wasn’t necessarily surprised to hear Siheta speak openly about feelings. She wasn’t typically the sort to cage herself, after all. “What?”
“Just...that turn of phrase. It’s peculiar to me.”
Siheta nodded. “Solas is intelligent and intuitive. He’s also much older than he seems, and that comes with a vast deal of knowledge. I respect him even when I resent him, and I don’t like that.” she shrugged. “He’s also...well, dangerous obviously. Anyone that powerful who can remain undetected is... But, there’s something shifty about him. In this world of ours, I understand wanting to remain as unremarkable as possible...but it goes beyond that with him. That makes me most uneasy. You don't do that unless you legitimately have a reason to hide.” Amy nodded that she understood, and Siheta seemed to relax. As though she’d been waiting to defend herself. “I’m not the only one who thinks it even if others don’t articulate it.”
“Magpie?”
“Magpie.” Siheta confirmed. “And Varic. And Bull to some extent.”
“Ben Hass-hole.”
“Quite.” Siheta surveyed their surroundings. “But even they’re beginning to relax around him.”
“Hm.” Amy murmured. “Without revealing too much… I don't think it’s a bad idea to be mindful of Solas. At the same time.. I’d much rather keep him close. Even at the expense of my own feelings. Because…” she shook her head. “He isn’t an automaton. He has valid thoughts and feelings. And if he's close to us, and we form strong bonds and feelings with him, there’s a chance he’ll form bonds and feelings for us as well.” she shrugged, mouth scrunching to the side. “Doesn’t mean a break won't hurt, but he’ll have all that to inform him as he moves away from us.”
Siheta’s expression was flat, grim. “Risky.” she announced before heaving a lonesome breath. “But worthy.” she finally determined with a nod.
“So…”
“Right.” Siheta took a fortifying breath. “How to invite the old sage in.” she eyed their surroundings till her eyes landed on Confrontation. The spirit had gone quiet during their discourse.
...and Amy wondered for a second how much of their presence was influencing all of this abject honesty.
“How is this affecting you?” Siheta asked, and Amy blinked, her eyes darting between Siheta and Confrontation… it was only then Amy realized that Siheta was addressing the spirit..and Amy suddenly grew concerned.
“Well enough.” Confrontation pronounced, nodding towards Amy. “This one is very concerned with keeping to herself… odd, as this space is herself.” They blinked, looking up and then around. “Honestly… I expected some friction.”
Siheta nodded, her gauging gaze assessing Amy anew. “Commendable.”
“Oi.” Amy grunted. “I’m right here.”
Siheta chuckled, taking a long moment to corral her thoughts. “So… just so we’re all on the same page now. People in Thedas live in a physical world that is next to and within a realm of Dreaming that they call the Fade. It's seperated from them only by a very flimsy barrier they call the Veil. Mages have a stronger connection to that Dreaming and use its energy to manifest effects in the physical world. To be clear, everyone lives with the Dreaming overlapping them.”
“Mages are just aware of it and connected to it.”
“Right.” Siheta confirmed. “When you arrived here, you didn’t connect and the Dreaming didn’t touch you.”
“So… I was like a vacuum?”
Siheta nodded. “A void, yes. But as time passed, I realized it wasn’t so. The Dreaming adjusted itself around you, seeping in where it could… the physical realm, of course. The rest of you, your soul, it was encased in a shell, like an egg. But I could focus on you and feel you in a similar fashion to others.” She took a deep breath. “It took pointed focus to skim that eggshell of yours, but it was possible.”
“Like a needle on an old-fashioned record player.”Amy mumbled to herself.
“If it helps the explanation, why not?” Siheta said with a shrug. “I observed many things about your unique condition, and the more often I pressed in on that shell…”
“The better you got at understanding?”
Siheta winced, suddenly contrite. “Yes...but that wasn’t without consequence. You began to sing more and more, and it became clearer that your magic manifested through your song. And as you used your gifts, they became stronger. Whether that was from, natural practice or my interference… I don’t know.”
Amy hesitated, uncertain. “...Your..?” How did Siheta ‘interfere’ exactly?
“You mentioned a needle...well, my attempts to connect through your barrier isn’t unlike pressing a glass against a door… or… a needle through the wood to peek inside. And once there were cracks, parts of your magic cloud leak out...and parts of the Dreaming could leak in.” Amy stared at her, both shocked and something…a feeling she couldn’t quite name. There was fear, and she felt small and yet amazed at the same time. It was like… seeing a storm coming, and worrying that your house might not stand against it. “There’s no way to test if that process weakened the barrier, because it’s gone now.”
Amy swallowed thickly. “...the explosion?”
Siheta nodded. “The shell is gone. Now, it’s more of a...thin gooey barrier…”
“Semipermeable membrane.”
Siheta’s eyebrows nose and she nodded slow. “Semi-Permeable… a good name for it. Things don’t just float out or drift in, but it’s much easier.” Siheta smirked. “Like your own personal veil.” She sighed, softly. “That being said, you still aren't like other mages. That will make this instruction challenging. Not impossible… just difficult.”
Amy nodded, the shock so thick she couldn’t feel crestfallen.
“It will be difficult to invite Solas here, because it’s something that can be done, but it’s advanced. Also... I know how I would do it, but I don't entirely know what would work for you.” Siheta explained. “Instead, I think I should instruct you in the basics first. It will provide you with a better foundation to build on, and you would be safer.
Amy nodded. It felt like a bit of a let-down, but it made sense.
“Besides, once Solas is here, I doubt he’ll be interested in the basics.”
Amy smirked. “You think he’d disregard that?”
Siheta shrugged. “Solas can get rather caught up in forgetting that everyone isn’t like him, and that such things are normal. He’s like a qunari that way, confused how a woman can fight or a mage could be in command.” she sighed. “A fish can teach a bird to swim, so long as it remembers that they’re different animals and maintains respect for that simple fact.”
Amy chuckled softly. “The simple often confounds the wise.” She relented, relaxing as she resigned herself to Siheta’s basic instruction. “All right. Teach me.” she said, newly determined.
Relationships: I feel like it’s a little early for that…
Summary: As dreams went, she supposed being inside Dragon Age wasn’t too bad… At least she wasn’t the Herald (again). Or the Warden (again). Or Hawke (again).
Notes: ODamn, you guys :D I got a TON of reviews. We all know why, too. Everyone loved seeing Zevran. I know a while back on Tumblr there was a 'Zevran does Skyhold' thing. I'd been world building for Charmer-verse, and always think about my trash crow baby too, and I'm glad you guys came along with me on that :)
It's too late for me, just save yourselves! Go! Read!
The wind was something that Amy could sometimes negotiate with…other days, it was always going to be a problem, and it was just better to keep Bax as close as possible.
The man simply projected heat. And it was obviously a conscious effort of some sort, as he did it at varying degrees.
There were some days, however, when the wind would change... The morning had seen wretched winds…but whatever the weather’s problem was, it sorted itself out long before noon.
This morning she had kept herself very busy. She’d spoken with Mother Giselle and Flissa. Technically, Flissa and Adan had been working together so closely on this project that Amy didn’t even need to consult Adan. Flissa would keep him appraised. It kept people out of his way, and he got to be more of an alchemist and less of a healer… Everyone won.
Mother Giselle reported that, including the 28 mages, the total number of their supporters was now at 48 volunteers (this number included Mother Giselle, Flissa, Adan, and Amy).
“Fan Tas Tic.” Amy had said. Initially, she had reasoned that they could make do with whatever numbers they had. Since the initial estimate had only the 28 mages in play, she’d thought groups of two could bring refreshments to the 12 groups of soldiers… But that seemed very unfair.
Two people were going to bring 22 cups and two pitchers to a hardy group of soldiers? Putting herself in the place of the mages, she thought that may seem intimidating. At least, that’s the feeling she gleaned from Bax, Macie, Elossa, and Siheta. But if four people did it… that’d be a little better. More balanced and less likely for the volunteers to feel overworked.
Flissa had also reported that she and Adan were fairly certain they had a winning mixture. They’d need a few people to help them taste test it… Amy was certain Mother Giselle’s volunteers wouldn’t mind helping with that.
She’d also spent some time asking Cullen if there was an emergency procedure in place for soldiers and civilians. He had gotten that far-off pensive look that quickly turned critical. As if he did have a plan, but he was suddenly re-evaluating it and finding flaws.
She’d told him only to keep it in mind, and maybe they could discuss that at a war table meeting.. Or in the tavern. Or something.
If she was being perfectly honest, she hadn’t ended the walk-about early because everything had been addressed and was running smoothly.
She’d ended it early because today was the day that Sam’s crew came back, and she was anxious to see them. It may be childish, but she’d put herself right in the middle of neutral territory and was eagerly waiting for any sign of them… Like a child on Christmas eve. Also, everything was running smoothly enough.
With the exception of Siheta and Magpie, everyone else had gone off to their respective corners—Wystan with the soldiers and Macie, Bax, and Elossa with the mages.
“So, I saw you talking with that dangerously attractive Antivan yesterday.” Magpie said, as if she were tattling on Amy.
Amy smirked. “Josephine not…that bad.”
Magpie chuckled. “Oh, har-de-har.” She droned. “I meant the elf with the wonderful tattoos.”
“Hm.” Amy said noncommittally. Magpie simply grinned at her, waiting for more. Amy huffed. “Leliana’s friend.”
“Like I said. Dangerous.” Magpie’s eyes were wide with surprise and just a touch of fear.
“Don’t like?”
“Leliana? Of course, I do.” She said as though she were reading the back of packing instructions. “She’s amazing at what she does. Extremely efficient. Is she listening to us right now? Probably. I really love the lady Nightingale. She. Can. Do. No…..Wrong.” Magpie’s tone did not change, but her expression raced from cheerful, to nervous, and then to worried.
Amy chuckled softly. “She’s good.”
“Oh sure. Easy for you to say. You’re safe because you were touched by Andraste.” Magpie grumbled before her face slid into suspicion. “You were, right? Touched by Andraste or whatever?”
“Want me to show on doll?”
“Good one.” Magpie relented. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve completely distracted me from talking about the handsome Antivan.”
It still warmed Amy when she remembered her brief time with Zevran. And it was in a decidedly ‘oh my sweet baby crow’ way…not a ‘my kingdom for a phallus’ sort of way.
They’d managed to talk a bit more. She had gotten the chance to fuss over him while he went on and on about his daughter. Amy desperately wanted to see this baby, but she wasn’t about to even suggest it. She knew that the Inquisitions path would be very dangerous, and the last thing she wanted to do was bring Zevran’s family into the line of fire. She had given him tidbits of knowledge about which parts of the world would be the least safe and was grateful to learn that his home was in none of those areas.
She’d also managed to glean a few stories about his partners…and for the first time in a long time, she found herself envious of their relationship. Not just because Zevran seemed very loved up, but also because of how much the three seemed to talk to each other. The joke about communication being the most important part of a relationship wasn’t actually that much of a joke. It just seemed so healthy. Not perfect, but…they were making it work.
“You’ve gone all doe-eyed and wistful.” Magpie said, sounding just a touch concerned. “He didn’t up and break your heart, did he?” there was a dangerous edge in her voice. A ‘hunt him down and make him pay’ edge, that Amy needed to deflect.
She laughed, one arm tight around her belly while the other covered her mouth. “Silly!” she said, glad to see that tension leave Magpie.
A grin tugged at the edge of her mouth. “Good.” She said, letting that hang in the air between the before rushing out with, “Because I’d find him and fuck his shit up.”
Amy could only laugh. “Peach.” She giggled, swatting at Magpie’s shoulder.
The women jumped when a lookout atop one of the larger boulders cried out, “HO! Party coming through the pass!”
They’d been so busy clucking and giggling at each other that they hadn’t been paying attention tot he road. It was a long ways off, but there were definitely a group of people now visible at the farthest end of the road.
Amy could barely make out Sam, Cassandra, Solas, and Sera, and she assumed the large group that was behind them were Inquisition scouts and soldiers. She couldn’t really tell because the distance made their armor nondescript.
“Walking.” Amy grunted in disgust. “Take forever.”
Magpie grinned. “You’re certainly anxious to have them back.” Amy only nodded.
“Now or never.” This came from Siheta, whose eyes had gone large and round.
“…What?” Magpie asked.
Amy felt her entire body tense up as her eyes met Siheta’s. “Get to her before he gets back.” Siheta breathed, dread tinting her words. “It’s now or never.”
Amy felt herself breathing, deep and even. Felt her muscles tense, her stance lock as she carefully turned to survey the field. She slowly stepped to the edge of the road that separated the mages and neutral space from the field…
Of the many ways that she could defend herself, she knew she was probably most vulnerable to a ranged attack. She wanted to be close to the line of soldiers… to mix in with them a bit, yes, but also to better react to whatever was coming.
She began a slow pace as she glared at the field, drawing a touch of inspiration from Darth Maul (arguably one of the best things to come out of the Phantom Menace).
If they were coming for her right now…she wanted them to feel her seethe.
And then, in a moment when she was still, and the cold was very nearly the only thing she felt, four men in the closest group crouched all as one and leapt from the line towards her.
Spatial awareness was a thing that Amy was very keen on. She knew how much space she would have to draw away, and she knew that it exceeded the space in which they had to make their move.
She immediately began flipping backward, getting a few good turns before planting her feet in a solid stance and screaming as shrilly as she could, bearing her teeth and letting her muscles strain and her eyes bulge. It was a presentation of course. An answer to a threat, equally threatening.
It did its job as well; the men halted for a half second, clearly reevaluating their decisions. This allowed Amy a chance to evaluate them.
That noise, the one that sounded like a sledgehammer on metal, erupted. Siheta let loose a stone fist that sailed into one of the bigger men, heavily armored. Not that it did him much good. The enormous bolder collided with his chest and sent him flailing back. The bigger they are…
“That one’s mine.” Siheta called out, eyeing the fallen figure as she began to round the group of men.
“What the—”
Magpie’s words died as Amy dashed forward, leaping up and wrapping her legs around one of the other men. She sat astride his shoulder, her legs coiled down his chest tightly. He was also heavily armed…but he lacked a helmet.
She reeled back, arching her back backward (which threw him slightly off balance, he was having to compensate as it was to stay upright) before she tensed the muscles of her belly and reeled herself in, jabbing her elbow down against the crown of his skull. She straightened her legs, so that when he crumbled, her feet were planted on the ground. In fact, if the man were not firmly gripped by her thighs, he would have folded like a cheap suit.
That left the final two. Both of them wore leather armor with chain mail beneath.
One of them was very hesitant…as Amy examined him, she could see ‘I really don’t want to do this’ all over his face. She wondered if it was because they’d dropped half of them, or if perhaps he had other reasons for his reservations.
Magpie suddenly materialized, in a move that Amy had seen so many times in the game, it was nearly surreal. It had to be the Shadow Strike. One second she wasn’t there, and then she was leaping up right next to him, using her own momentum to knock him off his feet.
Amy blinked at that before looking back to the last man. “Dance?” she practically whispered.
The other man lunged forward. Amy had taken note of the daggers in his hands and made sure to dodge away from him neatly. It was almost like a dance, and though he may be the one attacking, he was not the one leading.
There is a moment when you can see the attack coming, and the opponent actually leaves themselves open. Normally, seeing the attack would give a fighter the chance to defend….but Amy came from another school of thought.
This was to attack before your opponent attacks, while he is gearing up to attack you. He had been raging at her a while, and that took time and precious energy. She struck out once, when he was reeling back to strike her, landing a kick on his main shoulder.
Though it was with the heel of her foot, it wasn’t a full strike. But it would still agitate the muscle… and one more hit would dislocate that shoulder. There was a marked difference in his range of motion, and it was obviously hurting him to lift that arm now.
Then out of nowhere, Cullen shield bashed him. He went flying across the road like a stone skipping across a smooth lake before embedding himself in some fluffy powder.
“Gah’dammn.” Amy murmured, partially in appreciation and partially in sympathy for that poor bastard.
Amy took short stock of the situation. The man she’d first attacked was out. Just… out. Still. So was the man Siheta was looming over. Magpie had planted herself on her quarry’s chest and held a dagger to his throat. He held both of his hands up in surrender, high above his head. And the man that Cullen had dispatched was not moving.
“Is anyone hurt?” Cullen asked, still crouched, his shield and sword ready.
“Except them?” Magpie growled, not getting up from the man she’d sequestered.
“We appear to be unharmed.” Siheta murmured. “Shouldn’t speak so soon, I suppose, but …their attack appears to have petered out.”
Amy couldn’t relax yet, and it had very little to do with adrenaline. It was in the lack of cold, and the prickling sensation as the hairs on her body stood up.
She looked up to see the horses had drawn closer. They were very nearly home now, trotting instead of walking. Perhaps they had sensed something was happening as well.
Amy thought of their attack and wondered at what Siheta had said. ‘Now or Never’? Why was it important to have her dispatched before Sam returned? Did they think they could possibly survive such an attack? Would they have attacked Sam immediately afterward? What was the thinking?
“Biz are.” Amy grunted. She half turned, facing the coming party.
And her breath squeaked out of her half a second later as something pierced her side…or her back or…the pain was radiating out of her left side and down her back.
“Crossbow!” Cullen roared, but Amy was focusing on standing at the moment.
Standing and breathing, because she wasn’t sure if she could manage anything else.
With her left hand, she reached along her side, gritting her teeth so she wouldn’t whimper as she traced the area of intrusion.
That sledgehammer that signaled a stone fist echoed in her ears.
“Get him! I want him brought here! Do not let him get away!”
Amy was only vaguely aware of Cullen’s barked orders as she felt the protrusion of an arrow…it had hit her at an odd angle, because she’d been turning.
If she hadn’t been… she would shudder to think of where it would’ve struck, but that sort of movement would’ve probably hurt.
As it was, it wasn’t entirely embedded in her skin. She could feel the edge of the arrowhead just beside her under-layer and the thick seam of her breastband.
“Amy?” That was Magpie’s voice. She sounded so soft and sweet in comparison to what Amy was used to. “Hey, you’re ok. We’ll just, uh…we’ll get you somewhere to—Holy fuck!”
Amy had gripped the shaft of the arrow just near the arrowhead with her right hand(the most limited) and with her left hand(which had the most range), broke off the long length of the shaft.
She took made a deep, grunting noise, clenching her teeth and panting unevenly. She would hold her deep breaths and they would sob out of her clenched teeth.
“Daahh!” Magpie half wailed in panic. “Why the fuck would you DO that!!” The frazzled elf wrung her hands, one reaching towards Amy’s shoulder, glancing there before drawing back. It was like she wanted to help, to comfort Amy somehow, but was afraid that touching her would only cause more pain.
“S’fine.” Amy grunted, still unable to do more than stand there.
“It is not fine!”
Amy let her right arm relax. She couldn’t look at her hand now because it was shaking…and covered in blood. The adrenaline was definitely ebbing, replaced with a different type of panic that she needed to quell.
“Amy, you should sing.” Siheta was saying.
“What!” Magpie chirped, shrill and shocked.
“Sing and think about the bleeding stopping. Try to focus on that.”
Amy closed her eyes. She took a deep, settling breath, reminding herself of the body’s functions. Of the necessity of blood to clot, and the process of applying pressure, and how to stop a wound from being critical.
“You’ll remember me…” she began softly. “When the west wind moves… upon the fields of barley.” She began, still shaky but resilient enough. She may never be the strongest, but she would always be resilient enough. “You’ll forget the sun… in his …jealous sky.” She took a deep breath. “ As we walk in fields of gold.”
There was a sensation so out of place, almost as though the tension in her neck were relaxing. It seeped downward as she remembered how to breathe.
“So, she took her love…. For to gaze awhile…upon the fields of barley.” She was breathing properly now, and her voice sounded stronger, more like her. “In his arms she fell, as her hair came down… among the fields of gold.”
“What is going on here? Why haven’t you two moved her yet?” This came from Wystan, who was approaching with his weapon and shield out along with a few other veterans and a couple of their mage friends. Amy could only hear them, their heavy armor rattled fiercely.
“And exactly whose throat am I slitting for this?” This came from a single-minded Sam as he and Solas dismounted their horses nearby. Cassandra quickly followed suite.
“Amy is resistant to healing, but she might be able to help herself.” Siheta said.
“Oh?” Solas was now shifting his gaze between Siheta and Amy with equal fascination.
“Will you stay with me, will you be my love, among the fields of barley?” Amy sang out, the pain ebbing away leaving only the sensation of tightness. It was obvious she would have a limited range of motion. “We’ll forget the sun in his jealous sky as we lie in fields of gold.”
Amy gripped the shaft near the arrowhead tightly in her left hand and then yanked, hard. It took a few seconds to pant, and clench her hands, but for the most part (other than the sharp pain radiating through her once again), she was…. Alright.
Elossa was nearby, Amy knew that much. She had to be, because Amy could hear Elossa humming the tune.
Elossa’s voice was so strong. Amy always likened it to Christina Agulera’s or maybe Shakira’s. It was impossible to mistake even when she was singing in a group. Whereas Siheta’s voice was so breathy soft and sweet, it always reminded Amy of a mother’s lullaby. In fact, when Siheta would sing with her, Amy found herself trying to lower her own volume so that she could hear Siheta more.
“I never made promises lightly, and there have been some that I’ve broken…but I swear, in the days still left… We’ll walk in fields of gold. We’ll walk in fields… of gold.” She could finally roll her shoulders back. They had been hunched for the duration of this.
“The bleeding’s stopped…” Bax was saying this, his voice clinical yet still a touch of amazement tinted his words.
“Many years have passed…since those summer days… among the fields of barley,an” Amy let her face tilt up, almost imagining herself soaking up sunlight like a flower. “See our children run as the sun goes down…among the fields of gold. Among the fields of gold…” She took a steadying breathing. “When we walked…in fields of gold.”
“It seems you were correct…” Solas was saying as he rounded Amy’s back. The fact that he was not only so close, but also very mobile as he circled her, made Amy’s eyes pop open. “While she is not entirely healed, the wound is not fatal, and does not bleed.”
“Smarts like a mother.” Amy half grunted half whimpered.
While singing, she had felt a strange sense of focus… something that made her feel complete and whole again. Now that she was no longer singing, she felt like she’d just woken up, and had been iapub fight the night before. All tight and sore, but at least she’d survived the night.
“Well…if you can joke about it.” Wystan said, his shoulders slumping. It was then that Amy realized he had been very concerned, and that concern was melting with the relief that she was alright.
About five men dragged another to be bound with the group that had attacked them. That was… probably three more than necessary as he was pretty beaten up, but they all looked very pissed, and Amy knew that it was better for them to have at least some direction for that emotion.
“Does someone want to tell me what’s going on here??” Sam was still livid, gripping his daggers and obviously out for blood.
“Subversion.” Siheta said. “These men were planning on assassinating Amy and you, eventually.”
“Oh really.” Sam practically growled.
“Cullen?” Cassandra asked.
“I had been made aware of a plot against Amy, but they had yet to make a move.” Cullen said, his anger simmering. “Amy has always had permission to defend herself as she sees fit… The only way we could hope to catch them is if they revealed themselves.”
“Worked.” Amy noted, her chin jutting towards the group of five men.
Cullen let out a pent up breath. “One way or another.”
He always choose to bottle those feelings, and now he was closing ranks so that the only emotion you could read was channeled anger. He was probably blaming himself somehow, because Cullen did self-flagellation so well.
Amy turned to the men. “Whom do you serve?” She asked, steady as she could. The one that Magpie had bagged was an obvious stand-out from the others. He looked… repentant. The others were grimly tight-lipped. “Elder One?”
She searched their faces as they all met her eyes. All of them. They all looked up at her, and she read complete ignorance in all of them.
“What?” the guilty one said, shifting when his mates glared at him.
“Elder One. One who killed the divine and made breach.” Now there was shock where ignorance had been. “You serve him?” she remained firm, because innocence could be faked.
“What? No! No we—”
“Shut up, she’s just trying to get you to talk.”
“No! I don’t serve the monster that did this! Do you?” Guilty party said, glaring at his teammates while gesturing towards the breech.
“We serve the chantry.” The man who’d spoken growled back at him.
And Amy felt herself relaxing, breath easing out of her now. “Good.” She murmured. “That’s…good.” She said with a nod.
“Right. Not that it’ll matter.” Sam said, and Amy tried to ease herself into his field of vision.
“Sam….” She said softly.
“They tried to kill you.” He murmured, unyielding. “Whoever it was that sent them, it doesn’t change the fact that they attacked you. That has to be dealt with.”
“I know.. But..” Amy tried to figure out a way to put into words what she was thinking. Everything was so jumbled. “These men… they are men. Like ours. They are sons, brothers, uncles, fathers.” She clenched her teeth. She needed to get the words out. “They have every right…to their fears, and to answer them. To pro-tekt..them selves. They are….eee sin shully…who we are fighting..for.”
“Amy.” Sam growled, his head tipped down. He didn’t want to glare at her, but he was honestly a little angry that she wouldn’t just let this happen the way it could so easily happen.
“I’m with Sam on this one, if anyone’s asking.” This came from Bull, and Magpie was nodding as well. “Why you always gotta defend the ones who attack you, anyway?”
“I am not.. Not saying, ‘don’t judge them’… I’m saying… Don’t judge in anger.”
“I’ve always found anger to be a wellspring of fuel, myself.” Sam was still glaring daggers at the huddle of bound men.
“Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.” Amy recited. “Thedas…suffers…enough. And they are part of Thedas.”
“That’s enough.” Solas said. “Amy, what will happen will happen, and you will have to make peace with that.” He said, approaching her uninjured side and attempting to take her arm. “Right now, we need to make certain that you are well. Considering your past behavior, I believe you would not want to experience an adrenaline crash here on the field in front of everyone.”
By ‘everyone’, Amy assumed he meant all of the men and women on the field…. Right.
Amy took a shuddering breath, closed her eyes, and nodded. Solas was…right. She needed to let the process happen and try to not get in the way…at least, as much as that was possible.
It was more comforting when she realized she wasn’t the only one leaving with Solas. Because if it had just been her and Solas…that would’ve probably made her uneasy.
“Where are we going, anyway?” This came from Magpie.
“The tavern.” Solas said. “If we went to the chantry, everyone would trip over themselves. I doubt Amy would want the fuss.”
Amy nodded.
“…Well, at least there’ll be alcohol.” Magpie half grumbled.
“Small wonders.” Solas murmured.
“I have her.” This came from Cassandra of all people. She seemed relatively insistent on lacing Amy’s right arm around her waist, to help support her.
This was good, as Cassandra’s presence had Amy feeling as though she could be knocked over by a feather. It also freed up Solas so that he could open the door to the Tavern and see about clearing off a table for her to sit on.
If anyone were to ask Amy about her relationship with Cassandra, she would respond with ‘What relationship?’. It was enough to know that their first conversation, in which Amy had epic-failed to convey the danger the Seekers were in, had left Amy feeling like an errant child.
Amy knew, of course she knew, that Cassandra hadn’t meant anything malicious by it. But her words had been received so poorly, and Cassandra had made her feel so…so… so stupid…. Amy had always hurried away from Cassandra after that. She just…she didn’t want to be in the way. Not till she was capable of better communication.
…Which…she still wasn’t good at. Knowing that made her very self-conscious around Cassandra.
Amy managed to hoist herself onto one of the tables. Solas was looking around, searching for something.
“I shall return momentarily.” He murmured before leaving.
Magpie pointed at herself. “Should…Should I be doing something?” She asked a little nervous.
“Let everyone know.”
“Got it! I can be a runner!” she clapped loudly before darting out of the opposite door.
A second passes before Cassandra asks the question that has been rotating in her mind as she stared at the exit Magpie took. “Exactly what do you expect her to tell…and to whom?”
Amy shrugged and then winced. “Important thing… she needs busy.”
Cassandra huffed a laugh. Better than a disgusted noise, at least. “You are…very intuitive.” She announces. “I wanted to thank you.”
“Whatever for?” the phrase sounds so like her mother, that Amy nearly wilts at the subtle reminder. She can blame it on being shot, right?
Cassandra smiles, and Amy is reminded of how nice Cassandra could be. “Samuel has conveyed to me…what you have said concerning the Seekers. Also, that you told him to defy Leliana in telling me.”
“Dammit, Sammy.” Amy grumbled, rolling her eyes. “Coulda taken credit.”
Cassandra is still smiling, but it’s tempered with wry humor. “Indeed. For all his claims of being a scoundrel, he’s remarkably straightforward.” A part of her expression turned wistful… it was around the eyes. “He cannot abide willful wrongdoing.”
“Noble Rogue.” Amy grunts in affectionate disgust.
Amy was staring at the Seeker. Still in full armor, though without her weapons. Not that she needed them. The evaluation continued to her countenance. Gauging what could be told and what couldn’t. Wondering if… if it were possible…
“Cass.” She murmurs, gaining Cassandra’s attention. “Must listen. Listen to all I say, or hear none.”
Cassandra swallows. “If this concerns the Seekers—”
“No. But still. Must listen.” Cassandra’s expression became grim, and she gave a single nod. “Varric.”
“What has the dwarf said now?”
“Not what’s said. What isn’t.” Cassandra’s eyes narrowed at this. “Varric knows. Know how to reach Hawke.” The Seeker’s eyes widened in fury, and Amy reached out, a vice-like hold snatching the Cassandra’s wrist. Firm, without pain, and yet unyielding. “Listen.”
Cassandra puffed a few livid breaths into her lungs before nodding.
“Would not matter.” This gets her another glare, but she leans closer to Cassandra instead of away. “First, the feeling. Think of all Hawke went through. Every trial. Every struggle.” Amy clenches her back teeth, but is gratified to see some of Cassandra’s ire fade slightly. “Now. Put… Anthony…in Hawke’s place.”
Cassandra’s eyes rounded in sorrow. She blinked rapidly as they watered and looked away.
“After that… all that… Would you put… Sam’s buhhr-den… on him?”
Cassandra met Amy’s gaze, her own eyes tinted slightly pink. She tilted her head down, nodding her understanding.
“Now. Logic.” Amy said softly, her own voice cracking from strain and the emotion of the topic. “Think. By mir-acles. Varric writes Hawke. Wait for rehh…re sponse. Ahhs…Ass oome. One comes.” She panted lightly, licking her chapped lips and biting her cheek. “How long?” she shrugs. “Weeks?”
Cassandra nods. “Possibly.”
“Given some var…varey… ables. Hawke may not…join. May. But…even if he …does. Greater time. Time away, not here.” Amy shrugs. “You would have… arrived…no sooner. Later, per…haps. Conclave would still…” Amy stops because Cassandra is nodding.
“Then I … I am to accept that the Maker wanted this to happen? That He…” She swallows.
“Faith.” Amy replied with a weary nod.
Cassandra meets her gaze again and she has to remember.
She knows the words, and she absolutely must remember them The right ones. Because the Seeker is and always will be seeking something… And Amy has to use the right words to remind her that she’s had what she needed for her faith all along.
You never needed the feather to fly, Dumbo.
Amy practically hums the words as she remembers them. “For there is no darkness in the Maker’s Light, and Nothing…”
“…And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost.” Cassandra murmurs, her tone lightening as she completes the stanza.
“You are not alone.” Amy recites with a smile.
“Even as I stumble on the path with my eyes closed… yet I see the Light is here.” Cassandra’s smile was only slightly dampened by her sadness now.
Somehow….Though she still wasn’t that good at communicating… Somehow. Amy’s message, the truth she’d managed to deliver, had managed to garner a small amount of hope.
Of all the things a Seeker could find, hope was definitely on the list of necessities.
In spite of all the darkness, or perhaps because of it, the world was still bright.
And then Solas returned, in what could be viewed as.. A tizzy.
“I apologize. Adan and Flissa were quite distraught when they learned the news. They wanted me to explain. Luckily, your friends arrived to take my place…” He looked between them. “Am I interrupting something.”
“No.” Cassandra said softly and not without kindness.
“Sorted.” Amy announces with a nod. “Now… ‘bout this.” She said pointing to her back.
And finally, there was busy work to focus on.
*deep sigh* I did say... that things were going to start happening rapidly.
Though the next chapter is probably going to be a bit of a break. Just because... damn. After all this shit, they're going to need a break.
Yeah...I'm just gonna be over here in my cubby hole, guys...*scurries away*
