Chapter Text
Withdrawing...
I wake up with the first rays of sun, and, as has been my habit of late, climb the roof of the Crimson Curtain. Most of the patrons are still in deep slumber after strenuous activities at night; the brothel’s business is booming. Especially ever since Archons’ son and heir has graced our establishment with his presence, visits in Curtain became the latest fashion.
To respond properly to this new influx of customers we have bought building right next to it and under dwarven architect’s strict supervision joined them in one. We have now two larger rooms suitable for orgies - and no, I do not dwell on the debauchery that happens within. As long as my girls remain unhurt and they pay their due, I am glad to leave the more carnal details in the hands of Tress who has taken over the duties over Curtain after Riv’s abrupt… retirement.
I look at Minrathous, with its rooftops basking in the sun; creating an appearance of gold covering them. It remains enchanting, even while knowing it is merely metallic illusion. Only Archon could afford such wastefulness; but the Royal Family thinks such ostentatiousness beneath them. No, it is an artful play on materials, and the result is much warmer and more welcoming than gold would have been. Minrathous has lost a lot of its glamour after the disastrous Crimson March of Andraste; but it remains my favourite human city on Thedas.
Leaving it won’t be easy.
I perch myself on the edge of the roof, overlooking the barely waking up street below, and fall deep in thoughts. There have been many changes in Wings since my curt letter to the Inquisition, which ended our association. Most notably, Valeria’s departure. Even after six months, a pang of pain accompanies the thought that my daughter has definitely severed our association, leaving me none the wiser as to the reasons for her decision.
She didn’t even bother to come and announce it personally. She sent a short message informing that she has decided to tie her future to the Inquisition - which immediately forced me to recall Dagna from her post and assign Nervlis with unenviable task of finding her replacement. With Valeria’s loyalties shifted, I did not want to risk our dwarf; Dagna is too valuable to lose in such circumstances. We immediately put her to work back in one of our laboratories, a joint project with Merchant’s Guild. Bianca was very glad to have her back.
Nervlis wasn’t surprised by Valeria’s decision - nor did he seem particularly grieved about it. It is only after his reaction that I’ve realized they have split up; and apparently, a while ago. I haven’t noticed... but it explained a couple of things, like Valeria’s relocation to Skyhold. I can’t believe I’ve missed this… But then again, as recent events have proved rather extensively, I am far from infallible judge of characters. Riv had me completely fooled - and my only consolation was that I wasn’t the only one. But Nervlis, for one, had figured out that something was off a long time ago.
Still, I wish I knew what pulled them apart. Maybe it was the same thing which made Valeria so angry with me. I wish I understood.
The crimson of the sunrise is replaced by a yellowish glow, and with it the streets below enliven. Standing up I stretch leisurely, and jump down a couple of floors, landing with a soft thud on my balcony. Cole lounging in the corner lifts his head up, and grins brightly in greeting.
‘A pleasant day to you, Pride.’
I nod back, the doors swinging back and forth after my passing. A stack of reports and Nervlis already await me in my office, and I set down to the more mindless part of my work.
Cole had come a couple of months ago, with Dorian. He said that there was nothing keeping him in the Inquisition anymore, and that he missed me - cutting off any protests I might have uttered. I could not begrudge him my presence, especially when I missed him too.
He and Imshael did not take to one another at all, and for a while my office and quarters became a literal battlefield, spirit and demon constantly looking to get the better of one another. Either in words or in actions; and once a priceless vase was broken, a couple of important letters smeared with blood, and my bed marred with distinctive claw marks, I have had enough. I’ve told them, not mincing words, that I had no need of disruptive retainers, and that if they didn’t cut it out I would be getting rid of them - both of them.
This quieted them down immediately, and I’ve had no trouble from them ever since. This did not resolve their conflict by any means, and at times I could feel their mutual hostility through the bond - but as long as they kept it nice and quiet, they could hate each other to their hearts’ content.
I’m almost done with the most immediate concerns by the midday, when our work is interrupted by a skittishly looking young Wing. Clearly awed by both our presence, and the important role he has been given, the youth nervously stammers out his message.
‘Mmmy Lady, there’s a man dddownstairs.’ Sweat drips from his forehead and he wipes it away impatiently. ‘He has cccome asking for Sola.’
I can see Tasha’s hand in this, for few of my Wings would know to refer this request to me. I was not aware she had taken to managing lobby - but that is a question for another time. Frowning, I close my eyes and reach within, pushing my aura outwards until it stretches far enough to brush against the stranger’s presence. As our powers collide, I feel a friction on my spine, and a familiar warmth spreads through me - along with irritation.
He was supposed to give me space, Creators damn it!
Slamming my hands on my desk in uncontained anger, I stand up rapidly, knocking the chair down. Nervlis looks at me with slight concern, unaccustomed to such displays from me, but I wave it away carelessly.
‘I will deal with this.’
Two flights of stairs are not enough to calm either my rapidly beating heart, or my irritation. Both with him - but predominantly, with myself, because I cannot decide whether I am more glad to see him, or more annoyed because he is pushing when he promised not to. I have a slight scowl on my face when I reach the reception room, and it shows. When I twirl my fingers around, the Wings scurry away, responding to the command with more promptness than usual.
Fen wears a serious expression and has his arms crossed defensively, but his eyes brighten at the sight of me.
‘I believe I was to be given time.’ I note flippantly, masking my troubled feelings. His shoulders sag ever so slightly in almost indiscernible resignation, but his reply is undaunted and cutting.
‘True. But it was not indefinite. And my patience is running short.’
Something snaps in me in frustrated reaction to his commanding tone. This is not my lover come calling; this is my liege demanding deference. And if that is his wish, then that is what he is going to get. With softly drawn breath, I reach to my extensive training and only slightly faltering, perform a whole low courtly bow, with one hand hovering over my heart and the other baring its wrist in a gesture of submission.
‘As my Lord commands.’ I keep my eyes down, as proper in our disparate stations.
‘Pride.’ I can hear anguish in Fen’s voice, and I can feel him closing in on me, his steps muted by the carpet and his own lightness of movement. He grasps my chin with two fingers, and forcefully lifts my head - and then me - up from my bow. ‘Do not hide behind these rituals from me. Bent neck doesn’t suit you.’
The pressure of his hold on me lessens to a soft caress over my cheek, sending shivers up my spine. His closeness makes my heart beat in a rapid staccato, and a flush travel up my cheeks. Creators. Our attraction to one remains unwaveringly intense, I catch on his slightly hitched breath before responding.
‘You can’t have it both ways, Fen’Harel.’ My voice shakes a bit, as I look into the storm of his eyes. ‘Either I am your subservient and you’ve come to bring me to heel; or I am your friend and equal and you have to give me time, the way you promised you would.’
‘I would never have you as anything less than my equal, my Pride. On the contrary, I would gladly elevate you above me - worship you and the ground you walk on.’ I begin to shake my head, and he sighs dejectedly at my blatant disbelief switching the topic. ‘I have given you time aplenty, I believe.’ I attempt to turn my gaze away, but Fen doesn’t allow it, keeping my face in place and eyes locked on me.
‘And yet that is not enough, or I would have told you so.’
‘Have some mercy on me.’ Begging suits him no better than subservience does me, I discover, hiding a grimace. ‘One letter, Pride. A single-sentence missive in fifteen months, and even that was regarding politics. What was I to think?’
‘That I’m still angry, perhaps? Because that certainly is the truth.’
‘Angry about what? I’ve apologised for my deception, it was truly remiss of me. But I have had my reasons, if you would be willing to listen.’ A flash of anger crosses Fen’s eyes, and I feel relieved by this. Finally, I can be on even ground with him - rejecting his broken pleas would have been beyond me; but this is the Fen I am much more familiar with. The one who I can put off.
‘There are always reasons, Fen, but at the end of it there was your selfishness. And that’s what I find unacceptable.’
‘True enough, I was selfish.’ His voice creaks ever so slightly, and I look at him beseechingly. I have spoken the truth, for my anger hasn’t abated - but it no longer burns so brightly as to deny him the right to explain himself. Maybe I will become more pliant with his honeyed words; and I have no doubts he will do his best to cast himself in more favourable light. But I owe him at least to listen, because he also has a point - I should have written something. That I did not was a result of my wounded pride getting the better of me - not an unusual occurrence that with my pride often dictating my moves, but in this case I should have known better.
‘I was selfish to want your declaration before relating you the information regarding June, but can you really blame me? In the past, regardless of the situation you had chosen him, time and time again. Against your own inclinations; against your better judgement you would return to his side. And you cannot fool me - it wasn’t only fear that chained you by his side. Had it been fear only, you wouldn’t have allowed it to have a lasting hold over you; your very nature would have chafed you, demanded your departure. No, you felt obligated to remain with him; and you felt guilty for not loving him enough, and so you stayed. Was I supposed to simply let you go, and allow you to repeat the same pattern over and over again? No, Pride. I deny June from having you ever again. And if I had to stretch the boundaries between us, manipulate you into achieving this result, then Void take me, this is what I have done, and would have done again. I am not watching you walk away from me ever again, my Pride. You are mine, forever and ever.’ After his impassionate speech Fen exhales, and looks at me expectantly. I bite on my lip, taking it all in - both spoken words, and the upheavel hidden in his eyes and tense posture.
‘I wasn’t going to pick it up back again with June, Fen.’ I finally speak softly, shaken to the very core. I did not think his behaviour was rooted in such fear...
‘Maybe not initially, but I have no doubts June could have convinced you. The damned youngster is just as cunning as I am, especially when it comes to someone he desires as desperately as he does you. June wouldn’t hesitate from using your guilt against you, just like I wasn’t above using your love for me to ensure there are no tricks left he could employ to sway you.’
Could his words possibly hold a grain of truth in them? Certainly, I felt obligated to be loyal to June; because I believed I had hurt him enough. It’s hard to imagine that anything could sway me to his side… But when I think of the me from a century ago, I can easily see myself falling for this. However, I’ve changed significantly since then - grew more unyielding. No, I am fairly certain nothing June would have done could sway me.
But I do not think Fen knows that - I don’t think he fully appreciates whom I’ve become.
But that is my fault, not his. I’ve not taken care to reassure him enough; left him wondering while I remained steeped in my own doubts and worries. We will need to overcome them, for our relationship to fully flourish - or we will continue hurting one another, both inadvertently and on purpose. As long as we remain uncertain - as long as I fear he will turn away when faced with the darkness in my soul; as long as he believes I am capable of leaving him for any reason… We will keep wounding one another, lashing out in fear and anger.
I do not want our relationship to become this bundle of misunderstanding and pain.
But in order to speed the healing process along, I need to learn and forgive him for the things he does to protect himself - and hope that when the time comes for me to make my mistake, Fen will do the same.
Sighing deeply, I nuzzle my cheek against his palm, allowing his other hand to reach out and pull me into embrace. Fen’s erratically beating heart pounds next to my ear, and I can feel him bending down and kissing the top of my head softly, draping himself more firmly over my body.
‘I understand, Fen’Harel. It does not mean I agree, either with your actions or the conclusions you have reached, but I understand.’
And I really do. Fear of losing what’s most precious to us makes us do unreasonable things; and my wolf has lived in fear for a long time.
I take him by the hand and lead to my quarters, impatiently shooing my bonded spirits away through our connections. Cole sends his happiness back and flickers away, while Imshael lingers for a bit, finally relenting with amusement at my more direct threat to make him regret trying my patience.
‘You feel a whole lot more like yourself now.’ I mutter quietly, immersing myself in Fen’s aura with delight. It brims with energy, at close quarters completely overwhelming his limiter. He is nearly back to his old power - now missing only the sweet tang of Fade cloaking him and gathering with his every move to fulfill his bidding.
We will get there. I believe in him.
‘Getting the orb back helped.’ Fen smiles and presents to me the round artifact. It burns me slightly on touch, and I draw my hand back surprised by this reaction, but keeping it to myself. ‘A lot of my power was bound to its protection spells; now that it is unlocked and in my hands, I could dispel them and access it again.’
I have on the tip of my tongue the many questions about Corypheus and what, exactly, has he done - but I immediately scold myself into patience. These all can wait. Instead I tackle the topic which, I know, will make my wolf unhappy.
‘Regardless, I spoke the truth before - I need more time. My preparations to leave are not done; and I can’t just leave my Wings stranded without leadership so easily. I’ll find my way to you soon enough, ma’Fen.’
Fen closes his eyes briefly, before asking curtly.
‘How soon?’
I waver uncertainly, weighing it in my mind.
‘I suppose… Six months.’
I can see the protest dying on his mouth, as he draws me into a kiss instead. Fen would love to object; I feel the conflicting emotions clashing in his mind. But he chooses to keep it to himself, glad to have my forgiveness instead when he hadn’t thought he would receive it. I sigh into his mouth, pliantly opening up for him and allowing his tongue to sweep over mine. The passion makes me lose coherency, as Fen holds onto me with desperation, expressing the longing he had felt for these past months.
We go no further than kissing, submerging ourselves in our closeness without needing more. My bones feel like mush when I cling to him as he worships my face with delicate caresses, his astonished awe at being able to do so expressed in the widened in amazement eyes.
‘I thought you wouldn’t forgive me quite this easily.’ Fen admits once the initial heat has cooled somewhat, and I lie against him pressing my back into his lean, strong chest.
I lift my head to look up at him with raised eyebrow.
‘Do you believe me to be spiteful?’
‘I know your pride has been wounded, vhenan.’ Fen nudges my neck with his nose, speaking against my skin. ‘I know how much you hate it.’
I consider his words leisurely.
‘That is certainly true. But I can see past that, my wolf.’ I touch lovingly his bald scalp, murmuring softly. ‘I did mature some during the time we’ve been apart, you know. I can see more than just my pride now.’
‘I’m glad.’ Fen does not specify what exactly is he glad for, and I do not ask.
He departs the following morning, as I expected he would. There was no way Fen could waste six months while waiting for me; there’s too much to be done. He draws me into a kiss in the lobby, as I am walking him to the exit - a very heated, and very public kiss. I blush with mortification at such overt display of affection, feeling the glances of my Wings burning with curiosity on my back; but nonetheless I respond with enthusiasm, opening up before him. I have missed the way he could make my body quiver and writhe from pleasure with the simplest actions. I drown my senses into the unique sensation that is Fen, allowing him to cloud my senses just for another brief moment of respite.
And then its back to business. There are many changes taking place in a short amount of time in Tevinter; and sometimes I feel like there are not enough hours in the day to do everything that needs to be done. I have barely managed to prevent the marriage between Archon’s eldest daughter and Duke Gaspard. It worsened the Tevinter-Orlais relationships considerably, but with my input Magister Lucanus has managed to convince the Archon not to meddle into the brewing new civil war - and not to risk his favourite child to such uncertain fate.
I could care less about the spoiled princesses’ life or death during that ruthless Game, but I was quite concerned about Briala’s fate, should Gaspard gain advantage of such marriage. It was a close call; and barely after it was finished there was Minerva’s and Dorian’s wedding to consider with all its implications. Dorian has been preparing to take over after Tessarian, and I have been teaching Bethany how to support him in this role as a future Wing’s leader.
Yes, I have chosen Bethany as my replacement. I would have left that role to Nervlis, alas, once I’ve begun my groundwork, almost a year ago, he had come to me and firmly announced he has no intention of leading Wings.
‘Are you certain?’ I asked helplessly. ‘There’s none more deserving than you; and I would rather see no other.’
‘I am your second, Fean’Na. I have never wished to lead; following you is my sole desire.’ Nervlis replied stately. I did not ask how he knew I would leave once this was done - he, out of all my companions, could always read me best. Not quite as well as Fen, but still nearly presciently.
‘My road will not be easy; nor it will revolve around freeing slaves, anymore.’ I warned him, in spite of the futility of it. When he smiled knowingly and just nodded, I closed my eyes in defeat and agreed.
‘Very well. I will find another - but know that you are making my job much harder.’ But my grumbling was half-hearted, and Nervlis just smirked knowingly while presenting me with alternatives without a pause.
Truth to be told, I was - am - quite flattered by his devotion. I have known that while both Tasha and Ryanth have always been loyal, they were loyal to me as friends; I could certainly count on them, but... they wouldn’t just abandon everything to accompany me on my journey. Neither - and there was a painful pang at the thought - would Valeria, as the case was, with her readily leaving Wings behind for another organisation. For the first time I have realised that Nervlis was loyal to me first, and to Wings second. It made me wonder how many more things I have missed, with my absence from the organisation - both in mind and in flesh.
Or maybe it had begun much earlier, like with Riv, only I hadn’t recognized the signs?
Remaining in Minrathous helps me to catch up with the most recent news around, and I finally find out the identity of Minerva’s mystery lover. To say that I am shocked to know it is Fenris would me a humongous understatement; and Nervlis laughs at me seeing my dumbfounded expression. He, of course, had been aware of it right from the start of the affair. Fenris, too, is quite amused - and in the privacy of my chambers, Imshael also makes fun of my lack of comprehension in such matters. I fume quietly to myself - I always realized things when it counted; and who was Minerva’s lover made no difference in the grand scheme of things. Regardless, Imshael wears a mirthful twinkle in his eyes and doesn’t hesitate from bringing up my failings at any excuse for the next month or so; while Cole remains blissfully bewildered by the whole matter.
Isabela and Hawke have more or less made up, and Hawke fully embraced his role in Wings - and that is another reason why I believe Bethany to be the best choice. I would have made Arissar my replacement; but that would cause unnecessary tensions on the political front. The Archon had - after many proofs - accepted that there are Qunari willing to work within Wings without betraying our cause or spying for their contemporaries on Par Vollen; but asking of him to accept a former Ben’Hassrath in such vital position is simply too much. But I am certain that Arissar will be able to successfully assist Bethany, and lead her in the right direction. With her brother taking over her duties in Orlais as another source of support, I see no better candidate for the position.
There’s an assassination attempt on my life, easily thwarted by dark cloud of demonic fury that is Imshael and no less indignant if much less cruel flash of light that is Cole. I barely manage to open my eyes in reaction to the commotion in my bedroom before the whole ordeal is done and over with; but my spirits demand I switch my quarters to a safer ones regardless; unusually unified in their desires. After a couple of days of meagre protests I relent - only to find out that Nervlis has had them prepared the moment he had heard about the event. He admits somewhat abashed that he was ready to force me into accepting the change if I dallied for much longer.
I am of two minds whether to feel amused or aggravated by the attentiveness of my guard dogs. I wish they stopped treating me like an invalid; I am capable of defending myself, thank you very much, I’ve managed for three centuries!
Somehow, it doesn’t convince them, and from that day onwards I am always accompanied by one of the spirits. They take to blending into shadows to be more inconspicuous, but I remain aware of their constant presence in the vicinity through our singing bond. I suppose I ought to be grateful, but I’m mostly exasperated.
The time passes by swiftly, and before I know it, the sixth month I’ve settled on with Fen draws to a close.
My relegation of the leadership into Bethany’s hands is marked by a large ball, gathering all the major Wings from across Thedas and Tessarian and his family. I knew I had to officially distinguish the occasion, even if it was quite a pain to organise. But the Wings are happy with the celebration, even if a bit saddened by my impending departure. Bethany has a harried look in her eyes, asking me for the thousandth time whether I am really convinced there’s no other way. I make Arissar drag her away before I explode with invectives - my nerves are quite frayed after the thousand and one details that all required my immediate attention prior to the event.
I greet the guests at the entrance dressed in regal white - and if none of them are aware of the connotations and my fealty payed to Arlathan and Fen, then what? And if the dress is not quite as pristine and well crafted as the one I have left in my sanctuary, well. One cannot have everything.
Mingling with the crowd, I ensure all their needs are met, fulfilling social obligations with growing impatience. For all my irritation, the ball is a splendid success, and the Wings honor the occasion with appropriate restraint and gravity; but the overall mood is far from solemn. My people - soon formerly my people - are glad to shed their mantles of killers, spies and informants for the more festive personas. I am happy that they are happy, even while counting the hours till midnight.
A short while before the planned speech, when my false smile develops a nervous twitch in a corner and I am all stiff from the posturing, Cole suddenly disappears from my side. A couple of minutes later a new guest enters the ballroom, gathering everyone’s attention with his brilliantly clad in pure white form. I instinctively find my way through the crowd, drawn to his familiar aura; my irritation inexplicably dissipating in his presence.
‘You’ve come.’ I stammer amazedly, while taking in Fen’s splendid form.
‘I did. Although my invitation got misplaced; a dreadful accident, I’m sure.’
‘I did not believe you would have the time for such frivolity.’ I reply a touch apprehensively, berating myself for not even informing him of the occasion.
‘I don’t.’ Fen’s eyes are laughing, as he bows deeply over my hand, bringing it to his lips. ‘It doesn’t matter, though, I came regardless.’
‘No, it does not.’ I say softly. I feel a shiver of pleasure that he had prioritized me over the countless responsibilities he surely faces.
‘Is it too late to claim my dance with the hostess?’ Fen asks, and without waiting pulls me in the direction of the dancefloor, subtly maneuvering my movements.
‘Need you ask?’ I twirl around to face him and bow in reply to his dignified nod, allowing his hands to find their places on my thigh and arm.
And suddenly the stars and moon shine brighter; the music sounds more clearly, and the ballroom is draped in a myriad of colours.
Or maybe it’s just me, seeing things differently.