"But you didn't know the Inquisitor before the Temple of Sacred Ashes," Lana pointed out, her eyes darting to the side in confusion.
"When Cassandra approached me, asked me to lead this army, I refused. I feared what that would turn me into. Until..." Cullen's eyes drifted down to their conjoined hands, watching her fingers slip against his gloves. "Until she told me that they'd tapped you to lead the Inquisition."
Lana gasped, a choke catching in her tender throat.
"I had no idea what your thoughts would be on Kirkwall, on the rebellion. I feared you would hate me for the part I played but I knew I could trust you. That I needed to help you, serve you, give you whatever you needed. The Inquisition may have my arm, but you've always had my heart," he pressed his forehead against her, his eyes slipping shut. In a wistful voice sweeter than the breeze, he whispered, "Lana, I-I love you."
Oh no... She knew it, she'd known it for far longer than she ever admitted to herself. She'd chased it from his lips every time she feared he'd let it slip with a kiss or a distraction. She thought if she could buy more time then maybe she wouldn't have to hurt him.
As more awkward silence piled up between them with Lana not returning the sentiment, Cullen's hopeful smile faded to dejection. "I see..." he whispered, trying to pull his hands away from hers, his entire body shrinking in on itself.
"Cullen, wait," she gripped tighter, shaking her head to knock away her tears of regret. "I care about you. You're so much more than what I'd, I...you've been on my thoughts for, in the back of my mind as I..." Her head dropped down and she gulped at the air, wishing she could explain it. "My heart's shattered, broken from Alistair, from my wardens, so many losses I... I could love you with the pieces, but I want to be more, to give you more, to love you with the whole thing." She bit down on her tongue, trying to summon the words to damn her, "But that will take time. Time to mourn, to repair it and move past the heartache." Her head rose and she stared mournfully into those soft amber eyes. "I couldn't ask you to wait. It wouldn't be fair to--"
"Maker's breath," Cullen yanked her tight, his lips pressing against her forehead, "Is that all? I've waited ten years for you, a bit longer will not kill me."
A braying laugh shattered through Lana's throat, dragging the last of her tears with it. Beyond flabbergasted, she'd never expected this reaction, never thought that he'd understand, forgive her for not being ready. Her slack arms dug under his surcoat and knotted behind his back, pulling herself deeper into him. His metal armor bit into her chest, but she didn't care, the pain knocking another laugh from her throat.
"How did I ever...? I keep expecting I'll wake up, discover this was all some trick of the fade," Lana mused.
Cullen snickered, his lips pressing into the top of her head. She broke from her tight hug and took his hopeful lips in a kiss. Returning with as much fervor, Cullen's hands curled up to caress her cheek, pulling her deeper into the kiss. As she slipped away from him, Lana sighed, "You don't taste like the fade."
"I love you," he whispered again, his eyes brimming with a salty joy. Lana swallowed, guilt rising up her stomach, but he shook his head, "It's all right. I...you don't need to return it. I, take all the time you need. Please. Don't feel afraid, don't need to shut me out. I," Cullen twisted his head down, a bittersweet smile breaking his cheeks, "I fear I wasted so much time never telling you the truth, and I don't want to do that anymore."
Nodding, Lana brushed her fingers across his cheek, "Then tell me it any moment it crosses your thoughts. And, in time, I hope to return the favor."
"I trust you will," Cullen whispered. Upon the battlements of Skyhold, kissing this man who loved her beyond reason, Lana felt another piece of her heart slot back into place. After Adamant, she'd find the time, make the time to fix it all.
Chapter Twenty
Stay Safe
Lana glared through the rift splitting open the veil, the unnerving power of it felt as if something reached into the back of her head and yanked everything forward. It undulated just beyond their reach, the promise of Adamant's dark skies visible through the crack even from the distance. Terror demons lay in pieces at their feet, the final vestiges the fade dared to throw at them. They were finally free to get away from this nightmare and return to the real world, except for one small problem.
"How are we supposed to get past that?!" Hawke shouted. Her breathing caught as she tipped her head back to cut off a nosebleed. Above them towered the demon the Wardens tried to bring into the world, the creature that stirred the calling up inside all of their minds and drove them to madness. The reason Clarel finally saw through far too late.
The Inquisitor watched his people climbing up the hill towards the rift back to the real world. Cassandra had a grip upon Varric to hoist him up, while Dorian turned back for a moment his haunted eyes slipping over the last three left behind. The nightmare had no interest in them, only in the ones remaining cut off from freedom. A twinge ratcheted up Lana's side and she reached under her robes to massage it away. It must have happened when she flung herself in the path of a Pride demon's lightning whip. Dorian was stunned, too far away from anyone else to help, so Lana leapt in front, summoning a forcefield as quick as possible. Only the end of the whip snapped against her stomach, the rest ricocheting off her spell.
"One of us has to..." the Inquisitor gulped. The anchor embedded in his hand, the reason they walked in the fade to begin with, flared awake. "To distract it."
"It should be me!" Hawke shouted again. This wasn't her usual spunky response prepared to take on the world without a thought for her own well being. Something in the nightmare scraped away at her revealing the wounded warrior hidden below - the one she boisterously shouted over to keep anyone from ever finding. "Corypheus wouldn't even be here if I had finished the damn job."
Lana gripped tighter to her stomach and pain burst behind her eyes. Wetness clung to her fingers as she flexed them into the wound, the blood dribbling so fast it soaked through her thin gloves. She gritted her teeth trying to heal it, but her mana was low and the nightmare knocked around in her head. The spell slipped thrice through her fingers, and even then, she was uncertain if...
"I'll do it," Lana whispered. Her free hand gripped onto Hawke's arm, drawing her attention.
"Like hell you will," her cousin screamed, the voice snarling at Lana for even implying she couldn't get the job done. "The wardens are gonna need you to fix all the shit they broke. Which was a lot, by the way."
"No," Lana twisted her head, a small laugh rumbling in the back of her throat. All of this, every step through Adamant she strived to save the wardens from themselves, to prove they deserved it. Then to discover Corypheus didn't need a darkspawn army because he had wardens the whole time... She couldn't face her own people and they wouldn't listen to her. Lana was the warden who should not have survived, they'd never follow. "It should be you. They'll have to listen to the Champion of Kirkwall."
Hawke snorted, her shoulders poised as if she intended to rip the nightmare in half with her bare hands. The Champion herself snarled up at the demon moving at a glacial speed towards the rift, her bluster almost palpable. Then a foreign sheepishness crawled across her face. Her own past haunted her eyes as she broke her warrior's stance and whispered, "It should be me. I've got the big sword."
"And I've got the big stick," Lana laughed. Maker, in those first few days traveling the deep roads with that rowdy, rambunctious, infuriating woman she never thought she'd come to care so much for her. To find in her a family Hawke was so damn insistent upon. She wasn't about to let that last connection break now. "Go, just...you need to be there. To keep the Wardens in check, to keep them safe." Lana inched closer to her cousin and whispered, "To keep Anders safe."
That was enough. Hawke's body collapsed, her muscles falling slack as she crumbled from the mention of her abomination. Maker only knew what he'd do, what Justice would do if word of Hawke's falling reached him. The man dangled upon a spiderweb thin thread already.
Hawke gripped tight to Lana's arm, almost pulling her in for a hug, "Cuz, I..."
"We don't have much time," the Inquisitor exclaimed extending his finger towards the nightmare demon making a move for the rift.
Lana nodded her head, certainty filling her brain. Many questioned what kept her alive after the archdemon fell, and, despite knowing the how, she also often wondered the why. Perhaps this was it. She shook Hawke's hand one last time, and smiled, "It was good knowing you, cousin."
"You too," Hawke answered back, her trademark smile completely erased.
Slipping away, Lana paused before facing her end. One thought danced in her mind. Turning to Hawke, her willing sacrifice facade shattered and in a broken voice she whispered, "Tell Cullen I'm sorry."
The Inquisitor glanced around confused, but Hawke nodded her head. She mouthed 'I will,' and slotted her sword on her back. "Let's get going, greeny," Hawke shouted. Without complaining about the nickname, the Inquisitor gave in to the warrior's manhandling. Together they scrabbled up the rocky cliff aiming towards the rift while Lana turned away from it. Turned away from that last salvation.
She yanked her arm out of her robes to find the green fabric up to the forearm stained red with her blood. Yanking off her staff, she drew up what little life remained inside of her and ran towards the demon. The creature was beyond anything she could imagine; mouths where there should never be, unblinking eyes staring off every inch of its massive hairy legs. It was literally every nightmare come to life, as if it couldn't pick one so it slapped all together into one demented horror. As Lana advanced on the creature, the demon picked into her mind, attempting to draw forth the weaknesses it tasted in her earlier. The nightmare dug everything it had into her mind drawing up new fears, ancient primal ones, little things she shook off with every step. But something rang like an echo of a jarring bell through her soul.
Raising her hands, Lana prepared to blast fire at the nightmare's midsection, when she caught sight of her skin. Pocked and burned, the flesh was tugged and puckered until a mottled grey mass dangled off her bones. It was the hand of a demon given flesh by a mage's failure. She stumbled out of her run, both hands flying out to catch her. Scars shredded up her arms; the mark of a demon bursting from her flesh turning her into the worst thing a mage could be, an abomination. The demon cackled in her head, promising unlimited power in exchange for her complete sacrifice. How could she? Why would she ever?!
Then Lana caught sight of the Inquisitor and Hawke struggling up the incline. A tentacle slithered through the air towards them, the nightmare intending to pick both off without either seeing it coming. How easily it could knock one away or scoop them up to bash against the rocks. Shaking with a fury she forgot was possible, Lana drove the fear out of her mind, her own skin sliding in place over the vision of the abomination's. Ice filled her heart, her brain, her soul - there was no room for fear as long as there was winter. Sensing it lost a grip, the Nightmare twisted back to its little mage when Lana unleashed all the ice spells at her disposal. A blizzard opened up above its massive head, every single bulging eye pierced with icy hail. Twisting her staff around, she shot an ice bolt through its tentacle, the force strong enough to nearly slice it off. Black blood splattered the ankle deep water. Only a strip of skin, stretched from the plummet of the limb, kept the tentacle attached to the creature but useless.
Screaming with indignant fury, the demon turned fully away from her friends and focused upon her. She rose up to face it -- the drain knocking against her body, trying to pull her back -- but Lana was made of sterner stuff. The nightmare lashed its pincher wide above her head attempting to smash her into the ground, but Lana snapped her staff around, the blade slicing across it. Black blood poured out of the demon's arm as the arm skittered away into the pools, the claw itself smashing into the ruins and cracking with a wet thud.
"You will die," she said throwing up a barrier. It snaked into her mind, but she was ready now. Shuffling through every little fear in her brain, it struggled but couldn't find a purchase. Lana replaced each terror in her brain with a small joy in her heart. Her fear of failure was met with an old friend, the fear of loss was exchanged with sloppy puppy kisses. The nightmare roared in an impotent rage, but Lana was fighting more than just the demon.
Pain seized up her side and she collapsed to a knee, her body splattering into the pools seeping around them. Her own blood dripped down her leg, the gore oozing into her boot and absorbing into her sock. She didn't have long. Andraste, Lana prayed, guide them. Glancing up at the rift, she could only see a speck of what was possibly Hawke and the Inquisitor running towards it. They still needed time.
That demented voice screamed in her head, "I will break your mind, I will rip apart your heart, and leave you nothing but a jibbering mass."
Lana sneered to chew back the red haze building across her vision and dipped into her spells. There were so many tricks she knew, complicated and ancient incantations designed to combat demons. But the most primal of them all surged through her. Snapping her head up, she smiled, "You will still die." Every last ounce of mana inside of her burst free, shattering the air itself with fire. The nightmare shrieked, trying to scamper back from the flames whipping towards it, but there was no escape. Fire licked up its arms, legs, down the back coated in eyes. The putrid smell of burning hair covered over the vile stench of the fade as black smoke poured from the twisting wretch. It screamed more curses in her brain, trying to drag her down with its own pain, but she was lost.
Every ounce of energy spent, Lana collapsed on the ground. The pain clawed up from her opened wound to twist against her heart and yank it downward into the abyss. So this was it. Maker, I'm sorry. She tried to inch along the ground, to fight it, but there was nothing left of her. Collapsing upon the ground, Lana gave in. Her mind slipped away from her, the last of her consciousness bobbing along a golden sea. Something rose in her thoughts as if another presence dug into her, but it wasn't the shredding fingers of the nightmare demon. This was a gentle caress against her soul. The loving embrace drew forth a recent memory to flit through her dying mind.
Adamant's doors were broken, the battering rams having finally smashed them apart. The Inquisitor wiped off the warden's blood upon his daggers while Lana tried to not look in the dead mage's face. She didn't know that one. Cullen slipped in, his own soldiers at his back. He spoke hurriedly with the Inquisitor laying out the battle plan. After mentioning Hawke, Lana searched the walls for her cousin but either they were too far away or Hawke was already through the resistance and inside, probably punching pride demons to death. The Inquisitor nodded his thanks and motioned for the rest to move out.
Then Cullen, his lips smacking, called out, "Ah, Warden," and he waved her over towards him. She glanced at the Inquisitor, but he didn't watch her, his own focus on the forces swarming up the walls.
Stepping away from the first of many of her dead peers, Lana slipped in close to Cullen and asked, "Yes, Commander?"
In spite of the rage of battle driving to its crescendo, the Inquisitor, and Maker knew who else listening in, Cullen leaned down and whispered in her ear, "I love you."
Lana's eyes slipped closed. Every ounce of his heart was poured into those three words he intended to make up time for not speaking before. She wanted to kiss him right then and there, but... Twisting a spell up in her brain, she grabbed onto his arm and dug into the gap between his glove and vambrace to touch bare flesh. The protection spell flared around him, only a hint of the golden glow to guard him from errant arrows visible. Cullen gasped from the magic rush, then a slip of a blush rose upon his cheeks. Perhaps this was her way of kissing him good luck.
Before she took her finger away, she whispered back, "Stay safe."
The memory should kill her, knowing that she failed him as much as she failed everyone else, but a rosy warmth overwhelmed her senses. She felt as if she'd dipped into a luxurious bath instead of lay dying on the frozen ground of the fade. For the moment the pain c
eased in her side, the bleeding stemmed. Lana raised her head and watched as the rift flared first from Hawke and then the Inquisitor jumping through to safety. To freedom. To end all of this. Chuckling, Lana lifted a foot under her. She didn't have the strength to rise, but she wanted to glare into the nightmare's face, to watch as it realized what happened.
All three hundred eyes, half of which were now blackened from her fire, rotated towards the rift, then back to the human laughing at the absurdity of it all. Snarling, Lana shouted loud enough for her voice to reach the Black City. "You lose!"
Both mage and nightmare watched the breach shake and twist as the Inquisitor flared up his anchor from the other side. The nightmare's only way into the world sealed shut behind him. Lana expected it to finish her off, for one of its scythe arms to impale her quickly. But the nightmare screamed, its legs skittering about as if it danced upon ice. Fear was terrified. Then she saw it, a force of nature itself rolling and twisting through the fade. As if someone threw a rock across a still pond, the ripples blew apart the nightmare's domain, scattering every piece of it deeper into the depths of the fade.
Lana didn't have time to think. Unearthing her staff, she jammed the blade deep into the ground and summoned her magical fist to bury it further. Her hands wrapped around it, clinging for life as the first wave hit. Air scattered from her lungs, her body plunged back along with the nightmare. It shrieked again, but those spindly legs had nothing to hold onto. Another ripple tossed the monster upon its back, and before it could right itself, a third sent it flying into the air.
My Love Page 43