Norana Lavellan isn't Andraste's anything (notyourherald) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-05-13 12:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, cassandra pentaghast, leliana, norana lavellan (the inquisitor) |
Who: Leliana, Cassandra, and Norana
What: Delivering bad dream news.
When: End of April.
Where: A bar somewhere!
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for drinks and mentions of NPC death.
Status: Complete!
Cassandra wondered at her luck since she’d come to Orange county. She kept ending up in a bar. This time, it was at the request of one of Leliana’s friends. She supposed it was a good opportunity to bring Leliana her copy of the Chant of Light. It was a thick book, dog-eared and a little scuffed in places. The leather was worn from constant touches of her fingers, and the pages were filled with notes and musings and studies, all along the margins.
She touched it lightly with her hand, running her fingers over the sigil on its cover. They had plans to study it together, and she thought maybe they could do so tonight.
She ordered water, and moved the book to the side.
Leliana thought she needed a little something more than water tonight.
She’d dreamt after Alistair’s coronation. Revered Mother becoming the Divine, and she becoming appointed as the Divine’s Left Hand, the sinister agent. Kirkwall had made an appearance; she’d slipped in under the title of Nightingale, it was very poetic. That dreaded disaster was on the horizon, Leliana knew that much, and when she arrived, a glass of whiskey straight was procured before meeting Cassandra at the table.
It was likely going to be one of those nights.
“Hello,” was her quiet greet, soft voice as usual. Norana wasn’t in sight yet, but she had spotted the book. It caught her interest quick. “Is...that?”
It would be another few minutes before Norana actually showed up. The usually confident woman was sitting in her car, taking some moments to ground and center herself. This was a huge deal, and there wasn't really an easy way to say what she needed to say. Maybe she could find a way to ease into it.
Yeah. Sure.
When she finally did step into the bar, she scoped it out before she sat. That had been a trick the Nightingale herself had taught her, and the two of them were easy to spot. It looked like maybe they were sharing a moment, and she moved around to the other side of the bar to down a shot of something 100 proof before ordering something more substantial.
Cassandra had dreamed of course of Kirkwall. Of what Anders had done. Of the war that had come. If even half of what Varric had said could be believed, then finding Hawke was imperative. But she had gone into the wind and Cassandra had woken with anxiety eating away at her.
She nudged the book towards Leliana. "Yes, it is what you think it is. Go ahead. Open it."
Leliana had been surprised she hadn’t received something like this, but perhaps it was coming. Weighing on her chest rested an amulet; from the chantry, carved to resemble the sunburst on the Divine’s throne. Dorothea becoming Divine Justinia and being summoned to aid at her side gave her the itch to wear it, and her fingers went to squeeze it.
“I have a lot of this written....” Pages were flipped, gently, like she was treating the book as if it was some sacred tomb. To her, it was. “Maybe not word to word, but...close. Message is still clear. It is the same story told.
Leliana took a deep breath. “What do you think Norana summoned us for?”
“I do not know. Based on my most recent dreams, it cannot be anything good.” Cassandra’s eyes were locked on the book, as if it held secrets she’d yet to learn. “It seems as though every dream brings something more and more terrible. Dragons and blood mages. Blights and darkspawn. War between Templar and Mages. What is next, I wonder?”
"What's next... is a hole in the sky." Norana replied, walking up to the table. She'd decided on another shot before approaching them. The alcohol and the heat in the bar had made her cheeks flush so red that the white branches of her vallaslin stood out starkly against it. Otherwise, she seemed untouched by the dreams. No pointed ears yet, and she was grateful to still be the same height and build.
"I think you're going to want something stronger than water, Cassandra," She added, as she scooted onto a chair and set her drink on the table. "Leli." Norana added, nodding at her friend.
“I would prefer to have my wits about me,” Cassandra countered. This was business, not pleasure, and she would not imbibe when there might be something terrible she’d have to witness, hear, or do. Norana had already sat down, so she didn’t offer her a seat.
A hole in the sky. Color Leliana simply shades of intrigued, thankful that she opted for something that would help in regards to coping with whatever information Norana so graciously wanted to spoil. And she was curious, anyway, no doubt about that, and knowing what was to come would help processing these dream events.
She’d been bracing herself for Kirkwall for weeks, and it was coming. Only a matter of time now before the news would come of Anders and his descent into desperation. Madness, maybe? Isabela told her of Justice. That was madness.
“She can share mine,” she announced, offering Cassandra a wink before all jokes were set side. “Now, what’s this about a hole in the sky, exactly…?”
Cassandra nodded. The thought of a tear in the sky was an ominous one, but she didn’t have context. Where did the hole lead? To the Fade? If it was the fade than she was going to need a stiffer drink than water. The very thought put ice in her blood. “A hole to where?”
"To the Fade. That's what everyone seems to think, anyway. It's large and green and threatening to destroy the world." Norana was glad she'd already started the drinking, and took a sip off the one she'd brought to the table before she continued, "And I... fell out of it. Your guards found me in the ruins after the explosion that created it."
Little pieces of information at a time, that was the way to do it. Reveal the explosion, then discuss who died in it.
It was enough to set Cassandra on edge and she very nearly jumped across the table. She nearly knocked her drink over. “What. Did. You. Do?!”
Norana was probably lucky she hadn’t led with the divine’s death.
“Cassandra,” was Leliana’s hiss, tempted to kick their token hothead from under the table to stop her from being so…willy-nilly. Was that the word? Cattywampus? Either way, there was no need to overreact quite yet, regardless of Norana’s declaration of a possible apocalypse. Wasn’t terribly shocking - they did face almost complete obliteration in regards to the Fifth Blight. All those darkspawn, that pesky not-so-little Archdemon. A hole that led to the Fade, though?
The idea itself caused Leliana to sip her drink. Slow, though. She’d pace herself. “Let her continue, yes?”
"...I don't remember what happened, but I don't think I DID it, either. Whatever caused it left... something on my hand. A magical mark, and in the dreams so far it's killing me. But the both of you did interrogate me for a while. Plenty of people blame me. Well, they just need someone to blame. The explosion was very large, you see." Norana took another sip from her drink and was glad that Leliana's training in this life had taught her how to keep her hands and voice steady.
“How did it happen? Where is this hole?” Cassandra picked up her glass of water, and gripped it so tightly there was a really good chance it would break. Magical marks, large explosions. If they’d interrogated this woman, then it had something to do with the war, or with the Chantry.
Well, those two questions Cassandra blurted were the ones that rested on her tongue. Arms crossed over her chest, those bluejay eyes burned into Norana a bit harshly. Details were missing. Plenty of details, actually, and she wasn’t sure if she knew or if she was keeping some in the dark, purposefully. Perhaps a scenario of both.
“Another explosion, how very poetic.” This time it wasn’t Anders, but the Fade itself. Nothing like a civil war, but something on a global scale of a magical threat. Was that on top of the Mage-Templar Rebellion? Horrible timing, that. Many casualties is what Leliana already assumed. Why couldn’t anything be cute little nugs and drinking dwarven ale? “I am going to echo Cassandra’s inquiry.”
"I don't know how it happened, not exactly. But the explosion was at the rebuilt Temple of Sacred Ashes." Norana let that sink in a bit, while meeting Leliana's gaze. The spymaster knew very well that there were details missing from the puzzle, but Norana had no intention of holding anything back. They needed to know about this, before they dreamed about it themselves. It was just a matter of softening the blow. Ramping it up.
Well, that time was probably now. She couldn't skirt around the truth forever, "It has to do with the war. The Divine organized a conclave at the Temple, it was an attempt to make peace between the two sides. Lots of members of the Chantry and the Mage Rebellion were there, Templars of high rank too. And my Keeper sent me to spy, because she foresaw that the events there would have an effect on us all. She was... very right. The casualties were... devastating. The Temple is a pile of rubble."
There. Maybe the two of them would realise what she meant by 'devastating casualties'. Norana took another sip of her drink and hoped that they'd put the rest together themselves.
The Conclave. The Divine had wanted peace, and they had discussed reviving the Inquisition. Cassandra remembered some of that, but she'd hoped - prayed - that this woman had been referring to something else. But all that came crashing down, and her hands subtlety started to shake. Her vision started to tunnel red. Though she already suspected the answer, she asked anyway. "And... what of the Divine?"
Wrong time to sip her drink, because Leliana almost choked, and had to cough into her fist a bit to clear her throat. How does an official gathering to discuss the rebellion suddenly turn into a breach in the damn sky? Nothing was adding up, and at the mention of the Divine…
“Justinia,” she wheezed after the final cough, a hand to her own neck. She remembered plans for rebuilding the Temple, because by then she’d been summoned to aid the Divine. Be that shadow behind the sunburst throne, take care of darkest of situations because she was the only one that could. “The Divine - it is Justinia, yes?” Dearest revered Mother Dorothea, she had literally saved Leliana from herself after what happened to Marjolaine. She helped her see through the darkness, where she bathed in the Maker’s life - she was a friend, a mentor.
A selfish part of her hoped it was years later and another Divine had been elected, because if Norana was referring to what she thought, then…
"It is... Justinia, yes." Norana admitted, her tone solemn. For these two, it was a lot to take in. She'd dreamed enough past that at this point to understand why, too. That they were her 'hands', that they'd been close to the sunburst throne, though the dalish elf in the dreams wasn't sure what those positions actually did.
She carefully slid her drink over to Cassandra's hand, in case the woman decided she needed a sip of something stronger. "I'm sorry. I wish I knew more, but I don't have any answers for you. Whatever happened in the dreams, to me and the Temple and the Divine, it really did scatter my memory. Varric thinks it's an excuse, but it isn't."
Cassandra stared at the drink, then lifted it to her mouth, and knocked it back. She slammed it back down on the table. The sheer ramifications of Norana’s words were only beginning to sink in. On the personal level, the loss of the Divine, and the likely loss of friends. Regalyan. And the meta level. The damage to the chantry and the templars. The damage to the world that could come from this. Forcing herself to pull together, she picked something less personal. “The Chantry will blame the mages. The mages the Chantry. The war will only get worse.”
Of course it was Justinia. Maker.
Leliana had taken a deep breath, her composure held together barely by the seams, and took the final sip to drain her glass with a tad bit more grace this time around. Which meant no choking. She barely felt the burn in her mouth, that bitter taste. Things only seem to get worse as the dreams progressed, didn’t they? “Discussion of war aside, let us talk about the apparent mark you have gleaned from this breach? And that it is killing you?”
Whatever it was, it had to be relevant to whatever happened. That was her gut, anyway - it was typically on the money.
"That's what Cassandra has told me. The breach, your words for the hole in the sky, has these pulses of magic. It's currently expanding at an exponential rate, and every time it expands the mark on my hand spreads. It'll probably devour me... I'm kind of hoping that it doesn't. She was leading me somewhere, probably closer in? I think she had an idea of how to stop it, or maybe she just thought that bringing me to the explosion site would jog my memory." Norana didn't THINK she'd actually die from it. Bull knew about the explosion and if the mark had actually killed someone she figured he would have known about it. He probably would have mentioned it, or at least she hoped he would have.
She didn't bring that up, though. Bull wasn't sitting at this table, and including him seemed like the wrong idea. Her hand waved a waitress over so that they could order more drinks, "I wish I had better news. Or answers. I'm sorry that I don't."
Norana’s hand seemed normal. There weren’t any kind of death rifts in the sky. There were no demons. So why was Cassandra’s gut turning to ice and why did she feel a familiar tingle of fear down her spine. But it was something to tackle head on, she hoped. That was the best way. She thought about it, for a moment. “Whatever created that energy in your hand... Perhaps there is a way to use it to close the Breach.”
Leliana desperately needed another drink. Preferably of the dwarven kind. Why couldn’t that potent little thimble of ale make it over here? Granted, it’d be several days of memory loss and possibly landing somewhere mostly in the nude, but no other pick of poison would do it for her.
But alas, best to stay lucid and have her wits, like Cassandra so stubbornly insisted.
“We have to remember to draw the line between dreams and this reality,” she reminded, the tone cold and insistent. They’d been speaking like this all had happened here, like some hole in the sky that led to the Fade bled over and demons were pouring out. Dark spawn didn’t make an appearance, did they? An archdemon hadn’t graced them with its dark wings of flight. Some things bled over, yes, but nothing to that extreme, correct? “Cassandra may be onto something, but I suppose we will not know for sure until you dream again?”
"When last I dreamed, she was taking me closer to the breach. So I suppose... that's what we're going to find out soon. If they're connected, or if it can fix things." Norana held up the hand that was supposed to be afflicted. It didn't hurt, and it didn't glow, but it had definitely started to itch.
She wondered if that meant anything, or if her own consciousness was causing it to itch simply because she was thinking about it too much, "It's obviously not here, in this world, no. None of this is happening here, but I thought it was worth the warning. We can't really deny how much the dreams affect us. My own face reminds me every day."
The line. The line between the dreams and reality. The line of reality. Cassandra groped for the concept and latched onto it like a life raft. “There must have been other survivors. People with knowledge of such things. But if I had enough reason to believe, or hope, then I would take any shot in the dark in the face of such a cataclysm…”
“I am sure we will learn more as time passes,” Leliana assured, fingers pressed against her temple as if a migraine was being fought against. They could speculate all they want, they wouldn’t know until their eyes closed and they dreamt. A story that would unfold behind their lids would tell them the course of this disaster, in the end. Like most things, she hoped it would work itself out - and that it wouldn’t lend to something else. “Any word of the Warden? Of Hawke?”
"Nothing that I've heard or seen yet. We all knew in the clan that the Champion of Kirkwall had been involved in the explosion, but that she disappeared. We know less about the Warden, your Hero of Ferelden. Just that she stopped the blight." Norana shrugged a shoulder. To the clan, those names had less meaning. Mainly only the meaning that the other shemlen gave them, though Clan Lavellan tried to stay a little more on top of current news and events.
The drinks that she ordered arrived, and she picked her new glass up. "But I guess it's no mistake that we're all being brought together here?"
“Leliana knows how I feel about coincidences.” How long before the Champion or the Hero showed their faces? What would she do then? Cassandra thought that she might have to drink herself stupid. Just for a night.
She groaned, almost like a heavy sigh mixed with a disgusted noise. “The world in our dreams seems to be like a train, running off the tracks. I only hope we can stop it.”
“Better to go through all this together than to endure it alone,” Leliana contemplated, her voice softer. Might be the comfortable warmth of alcohol that finally hit her blood, making tense muscles relax, but she reached for the new glass to slowly nurse. “I feel as though we will be familiarizing ourselves with the insides of these bars a lot more often than we’d like, hm?”
It was a little overwhelming, but coincidences were not a thing. The Maker had a path paved, and they would go down it for a reason.