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The Last Dance	By : kireinakittie Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 7585 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age II or Dragon Age: Inquisition, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Chapter 6 - Uncomfortable Truth
Evelyn’s return to consciousness occurred in several stages, with vague impressions of hazy candlelight, probing hands and heated voices. She heard Morrigan lecturing someone.
“I excluded you from his life, and I pray for her sake she has the wisdom to do the same.”
More murmured voices, and then “I’ll return to check on her in a bit.” Morrigan’s voice, and footsteps, faded.
“She won’t, you know. She’s nothing like Morrigan.” Leliana’s soft voice.
Then Evelyn drifted into the nothingness once more.
-
Evelyn awoke sometime later, more alert this time. She shifted, becoming aware that she was tucked into bed, her bed, back at Skyhold. Her head felt heavy, as though she’d spent a night drinking excessively, but she couldn’t recall having done so. In fact, she couldn’t recall much of anything, beyond… what… The Western Approach?
“You’re awake! Here.” Apparently Josephine had stayed with her while she slept, and now offered her a cup filled with icy cold water. Evelyn promptly choked on it as she tried to drink.
“Easy…” Josephine said gently, offering the cup once more. Evelyn took it a little less enthusiastically.
“What happened?” She asked, sipping the water and managing to keep it down.
“Err, well, our agents pulled you, Hawke and Alistair from a collapsed mine shaft, and brought you all back here safely.”
“Oh…” Evelyn furrowed her brow, her fuzzy head refusing to remember any details.
“And, well, there have been developments. I’ll send for Morrigan, she seems to be the only one who understands what is happening.”
“Understands what? What is happening?”
Josephine all but fled the room, leaving Evelyn’s questions unanswered. She put the glass down and flopped back against the pillows. Her body ached all over, and she had no real idea why. It was maddening. Thankfully she didn’t have to wait long.
“Finally awake, I see.” Morrigan stated as she strode over to the bed “How are you feeling?” She placed a cool hand on Evelyn’s forehead.
“I’m fine…” Evelyn said, frowning “What’s going on?”
“Hmm, no temperature, your eyes are clear, any pain?”
“Kind of, not really. Morrigan…”
“You were exposed to a poison called Red Templar’s Bane. As you can guess, it’s made specifically for weakening red Templars and it should not have affected you at all. But it did.”
“How…”
“The poison was on Hawke’s daggers, an accident I’m told. Nevertheless, the poison started attacking your blood.” Morrigan reached for Evelyn’s pale hand to show her the faint remnants of the spidery black veins under her skin. “But the anchor is burning the poison away. The marks are fading.”
“What…”
“Your team took refuge in a nearby mine, and somehow managed to trigger a collapse. But when we dug you out it was clear that something had happened. You were all unconscious, for one.”
“Who…?”
“Hawke, and that fool warden.”
“Alistair…”
“Yes, Alistair.” Morrigan sighed and moved over to the fireplace where a pot of water was steaming gently. She put a pinch of herbs in the water and poured a cupful, bringing it with her as she returned to the bed. She sat down and held the tea out to Evelyn.
“What happened?” Evelyn asked, her hand trembling as she took the cup.
“I -think- that someone, or something, cast a spell on you, and, as a result, you are with child.”
Evelyn was shocked into silence.
“The spell bears a resemblance to one that I myself cast some time ago. It is old magic, drawing the soul of an old god into an unborn child, it requires blood magic and human seed. I believe that whoever cast this spell used Alistair to impregnate you, and bound the soul thusly.”
Evelyn shook her head slowly.
“I understand that this is a lot to take in, but we must act quickly. I cannot terminate the pregnancy, I have already tried. The best I can do is accelerate the process…”
Evelyn choked back a sob, terror turning the blood in her veins to ice. She would have dropped the tea cup if Morrigan had not scooped it from her suddenly nerveless fingers. She didn’t understand the mechanics, but on an instinctual level she felt that her body had been invaded and defiled. It made her sick. She tried to get out of bed, panicking as the sheets seemed to tangle around her legs, then tore herself free and scurried onto the balcony where she quietly retched.
Morrigan gave her a moment, but that moment was all they could afford.
“Inquisitor…” She said from the doorway, then more firmly “Inquisitor!”
From her hands and knees on the stone Evelyn looked up at Morrigan, her eyes wide.
“You are the leader of the Inquisition, you are a symbol to these people, your wants and your needs, your fear, none of it matters, do you understand?”
“But…” Evelyn whimpered.
“Take a moment” Morrigan cut her off “Curse at the mountains, curse the Maker if it makes you feel better, and beat your hands against the stone until they turn bloody. But when you step back through these doors you must be ready to ACT.” Then she turned and left Evelyn to her meltdown.
The Inquisitor huddled in the corner, knees hugged to her chest. The thin nightgown offered no protection from the icy chill in the air, but her body was numb, all of her attention focused on the terror that swept over her in waves, stealing her breath. What did Morrigan know? A self-confessed Witch of the Wilds, she had nothing to do with the Inquisition! It was true that there were many people depending on her, but no, NO! This was too much!
She raged.
In time the rage gave way to tears, and then when she had no tears left to cry, Evelyn lay in stillness.
Morrigan was right, the only way out of this mess was through it.
She was unsteady on her feet, but made her way back inside. Morrigan was sitting in a chair by the fire, calmly sipping a cup of tea. Evelyn took a seat next to her and the witch handed her a second steaming mug. The Inquisitor took the hot drink and wrapped her hands around it, grateful for the warmth. They sat in silence for a moment, each sipping away at the soothing tea. When she had nearly finished the drink, Evelyn turned to Morrigan, who was regarding her with bright amber eyes over the rim of the cup.
“What is your plan?” She asked simply, and the witch set aside her tea and told her.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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The Last Dance