Healing the Dark - Dragon Age Inquisition Fanfic

"What does it feel like when you dream?" Solas asked her.

She sat cross-legged on the floor, Solas opposite her. They were sitting on the floor of the house they'd been making use of while they stayed here. They had offered to use their tents to make more room for the refugees, but no one had wanted to kick the Herald and her companions out into the cold. 

"It depends on the dream. Sometimes I'll wake up annoyed or sad. If I can remember it at all."

"How does it feel while you're in your dream?" He clarified.

"It doesn't feel like anything. It's a dream."

"Are you able to influence it at all?"

"Oh, do you mean like lucid dreaming? I've never been able to do that. They say you have to train yourself to do it, and I've never had much of an interest in trying."

Solas let out a short huff of breath before changing tactics. "Do you recall how I told you mages draw their magic from the Fade?"

She nodded. 

"It is also where people go when they dream, mage or no."

"With the exception of dwarves," Varric added, he was sitting in the corner at the table cleaning Bianca. 

Solas acknowledged that point. 

"Why not dwarves?"

"Dwarves aren't connected to the Fade, so we can't dream."

She turned to face him. "You don't dream? Ever? You just go to sleep and... nothing?"

Varric nodded. 

"Weird," she mused. 

"From my side, you're the weird ones. You just lie down and hallucinate for hours on end?"

"Actually, on average, most people only dream about two hours a night, mostly during the REM sleep stage."

This earned her questioning looks from the others. 

"Rapid Eye Movement sleep stage," she clarified, not sure if that was what they were asking. 

"How do you know that?" Varric asked. "About how long dreams are?"

"Sleep science is a thing where I come from. They study the brain activity of sleeping people to see what happens. We still haven't figured out why we dream; they reckon it could be the subconscious processing the day, or the brain building memory, or a form of mental housekeeping. Some people think there is no why, and that it's just an incidental brain activity. Neuroscience and psychology are still trying to figure it out."

"I don't know if the Fade exists where you come from, or how dreams work there," Solas said, getting them back on track. "But here, dreaming and the Fade are connected. Even if you're not a mage."

"There's no magic where I come from; there's probably no Fade. And I'm not from here, so I'm not connected to the Fade."

"Yet you performed magic today," Solas pointed out. "Given your less than conventional origins, I am willing to believe things might work a little differently for you. But it's there all the same, and you need to learn to work with it."

"All right, fine," she finally agreed.

Maybe he was right, and she would be able to cast spells. Maybe he was wrong and nothing else about her needed to change. 

"The world around us can be manipulated by magic by simply willing it. The practice of magic consumes energy; too much, and a mage can expend their own life force, so you must be careful."

"How will you know if you're using too much? That barrier today felt like nothing. Does it just not require much to work?"

"No, a shield receiving that kind of punishment and existing as long as it did—you should have felt that. The Fade clings to us, and we use that energy to shape the world around us via... our own wells of power. These wells—for lack of a better word—exist only in mages. It is also what determines how powerful our spells are and how much Fade energy we can work with. It's possible you have quite a substantial source to draw from."

"But when I got here, my magic was depleted, right? Do you know why?"

"It could have been from trying to keep you alive or the leap from your world to ours. There is no way to know for sure."

"And it just restores itself over time?"

"With proper rest," he nodded. 

"Well, I slept for three days, so..."

"That likely helped, yes."

"So where has it been my whole life?"

There were certainly times she could have used a bit of magic in it. 

"With no Fade, it was likely you couldn't access it."

"So there could be magical people all over my world, and we just can't use it?"

Reminded her of that myth about daddy longleg spiders being the deadliest in the world and just not having the fangs to use it. Of course, that ended up being complete bullshit. 

"I couldn't say," Solas replied. 

He suspected there was more to Holli's origins, though his belief she was half elven was unconfirmed. At this point in time he had no way to confirm it. He just had the feeling she belonged in this world as much as her previous one. 

"Now, the first step is learning to reach that well of power..."

-

Holli was in her element when she was learning. It was something she enjoyed, and it came so easily to her. Learning to read the language wasn't coming as quickly to her as it was to Solas, but it was by no means slow. 

And books had always been an escape—both fiction and nonfiction of all genres—so she was extra motivated. There was a lot to learn about this world, and books would help. She was getting bloody annoyed missing so much context for things.

Magic was a different beast. Solas had said it was as much intuition and emotion as it was logic and reason. That had been a little harder to get around, but once she managed to conjure fire the first time, she knew what using magic felt like. And once she knew, it wasn't hard to replicate it. 

She was a little miffed he had been right about her having magic. Not at him, at herself. If she had accepted it earlier, she could have been learning it sooner. Perhaps the rift situation with Ralf might have gone better. 

But the irritation had died quickly as she learnt more. Solas hadn't expected much of her without a staff or some kind of tool to help focus it, but she was managing just fine.

On the trek back to Haven, every evening once they had set up camp, she and Solas worked on her magic, and then after dinner they worked on reading. Solas was a patient teacher and didn't judge her for her mistakes, few as they were. 

In their lessons, he taught her about the Fade and its spirits, about the demons and how they came to be. That mages drew them like moths to flame, and she must be careful. That they might come to her in the Fade while she slept, try to make deals with her, tempt her. If they promised to get her home, Solas assured her it was lies. Do not take the deal. 

She wasn't convinced her dreams were in the Fade; she doubted she'd be getting any offers from demons anyway. Nothing about her dreams had changed since arriving here, nothing to indicate they came from anywhere else but her own subconscious.

Once they arrived back in Haven Solas promised they could spend more time on their lessons. These lessons also gave her something to do other than agonise over her situation. 

They would only be in Haven for a short time while they rested from their journey and prepared for their next one—to Orlais to speak with the religious types. 

Mentally she had been working on a grand speech for them—about pulling together against a common threat, making history against this evil, saving orphans, blah blah blah. She'd written speeches for school before, and she did well with them. Granted, she'd never had to convince a religious order not to execute her. 

She made her way up to the Chantry to meet with the others. They wanted to discuss more about what was to happen in Orlais. When she got up to the Chantry, there was quite a crowd gathered around yelling. Were they here to hang her? She froze in her step as she watched.

Commander Cullen stepped in; from this distance, she couldn't hear what was being said, but he managed to disperse them, the crowd wandering off, if a little begrudgingly. 

She joined Commander Cullen out front of the Chantry, where he was speaking with Roderick. That prick was still here?

"What was that about?" She asked.

"Mages and templars were already at war," Cullen told her. "Now they're blaming each other for the Divine's death."

"Which is why we require a proper authority to guide them back to order," Roderick snapped.

"Who, you?" Cullen sneered. "Random clerics who weren't important enough to be at the Conclave?"

"Ha! Nice," she said, holding her hand up for a high five. When he didn't reciprocate, she grabbed his hand and did it for him.

He frowned at her but didn't scold her at least. 

"The rebel Inquisition and its so-called 'Herald of Andraste'? I think not," Roderick spat.

"From the sounds of it, I doubt we'll do worse than the last lot," Holli said. 

"Are you suggesting I exalt a murderer? What of justice?"

"Murderer? I guarantee you your actions have caused more murder than mine," she scoffed. "Why is this wank stain still here?" 

Roderick spluttered at the name-calling, and Cullen looked like he was trying to smother his amusement. Christ, he was hot.

"Clearly your templar knows where to draw the line," Roderick said, injecting a fair bit of venom into the word 'templar.' 

"He's toothless," Cullen replied. "There's no point in turning him into a martyr simply because he runs at the mouth. The chancellor's a good indicator of what to expect in Val Royeaux, however."

He indicated for Holli to walk with him, and they headed inside the Chantry.

"No matter how we might want to, we shouldn't go around calling people names," he told her. "You've got quite the mouth on you."

"Do I? This is how everyone talks where I'm from. Worse even. I'm pretty PG actually."

He cast a questioning look down at her.

"Parental Guidance recommended," she explained. "Some material may not be suitable for children. May contain some profanity, violence, or-"

She ended there. No need to finish that. She wouldn't want people getting the wrong idea.

"Right."

"Greetings, Herald of Andraste."

Holli winced, looking to Mother Giselle. The woman had arrived days before them, given they'd stayed in the Hinterlands a while. 

"Holli," she told her. 

Mother Giselle only inclined her head. "How fares your quest to seal the Breach?"

"It's still faring," she replied, unsure.

"A task such as closing the Breach is a heavy burden. I hope you do not carry it alone."

"I don't really do much at all; the others are pretty much carrying me at this. They just point me in the right direction and I fling my hand about."

She heard Cullen stifle a noise beside her; what it might have been, she didn't know. 

"We remember Andraste, but Andraste did not carry the Chant of Light alone. She had generals and advisors, and though it is considered heresy to say it, she had the aid of Shartan."

That was a new name to her, but Holli nodded along politely until Mother Giselle finished what was really starting to sound like a sermon. 

It was her parting words that had her doing a double take. 

"In any case, I pray this Inquisition proves less brutal than its predecessor."

Holli's gaze quickly shot to Cullen for an explanation, but he just gestured for her to follow. They entered the room at the end of the hall where Leliana, Cassandra, and Josephine were waiting. 

The women greeted them both before getting right into it. 

"Having the Herald address the clerics is not a terrible idea," Josephine said.

"You can't be serious," Cullen scoffed. "We'd be throwing her to the wolves."

She shot him a flat look for that.

"Mother Giselle isn't wrong: at the moment, the Chantry's only strength is that they are united in opinion."

"And we should ignore the danger to Holli?" Leliana asked.

"Let's ask her."

"I'm not sure we should be leaving it to her; she cannot fully comprehend—"

"I'm fifteen, not five," Holli cut Cassandra off. "I can comprehend just fine."

"You're fifteen?" Cassandra asked. 

"Yes, how old did you think I was?"

"Younger. You're very small. Combine that with your complete ignorance of our world..."

"Is that why you've been treating me like a troublesome child?"

"A little. You are also just troublesome at times."

"Look, I know I can't fight for shit, and I haven't learnt near enough magic to defend myself. But I can talk, and I learn quickly. I can address a bunch of churchies."

"I assume you won't be calling any of them wank stains or churchies," Cullen said, his amusement clear.

"As long as they're not acting like Roderick was."

"They probably will be. Maybe even worse."

"Fine, I won't call anyone names. I can fake pleasantness too. I worked in food service before I got here. Did Mother Giselle give you the names?"

"She did. But this is nothing but a-"

"What choice do we have?" Cassandra asked, quite the about face from her comments before. "We must do something. Right now we can't approach anyone for help with the Breach. Use what influence we have to call the clerics together. Holli is willing. And Solas, Varric, and I will be there to protect her."

There was a long moment of silence, Cullen and Leliana the last holdouts. But once Cullen gave a resigned sigh, Leliana caved as well. 

"All right," Leliana said. "I'll have it arranged by the time you reach Val Royeaux."

"We'll leave early tomorrow morning," Cassandra said.

"Cool," Holli said. "I have a lesson with Solas now; I'm gonna take off."

She gave them a little wave before disappearing out the door.

She was trying to be more positive about the situation, help more, and feel like less of a burden. Everyone here was trying to help, at the very least pulling their own weight. What skills she had weren't really suited to this environment. There was a tavern here, but the woman who ran it already had all the help she needed. So Holli focused on learning to read the language here, practicing her magic, and trying not to make Rythal's job any harder or bigger than it needed to be. Holli could clean up after herself anyway; it wasn't that hard.

"Hello, Solas," she greeted. 

In the couple of days since they had been back, he usually waited near Adan's for her to arrive for a lesson. 

"Good afternoon, Holli," he returned. "You're ready, I take it?"

She nodded, falling into step beside him. He felt it best they didn't practice magic within Haven's walls. There were still some very nervous folk about. 

They made their way out the gate and around to the other side of the frozen lake, finding a sunny spot—for all the good it did. It felt like the sun's warmth just couldn't make it all the way down here. Their practice area was close enough to Haven that they could call for help if needed, but hidden enough that no one from Haven would be able to see clearly what they were up to. 

"Is there magic that isn't, like, offensive or defensive?" She asked. 

So far she'd only seen it used to fight. When they had been in the Crossroads, she'd seen it used to heal, but not to help with the cleanup or the everyday little tasks.

"Yes, but explain to me what you mean by that."

Solas had told her magic essentially rendered reality mutable, that mages can reshape it. But so far she hadn't seen much of that—just people flinging the elements around. 

"Like... casting a spell on a book to make it read itself out loud to you, or making yourself fly, or giving animals the ability to speak to you..."

"There are schools of magic that do not focus on battle, but those particular spells... The first I've never seen or heard of, the second—while it has been attempted, very few have managed more than brief levitation without the aid of shapeshifting. As for the third, many mages have tried. None have been successful."

"Have you ever tried?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I've never needed to."

"Does it have to be about need? Can't you just try something to see if you can, or because it might be fun?"

He looked at her a long time, but she couldn't figure out his expression. He didn't look angry or annoyed at least.

"Most consider magic too dangerous to be fun or too powerful to be wasted on frivolity."

"But it can be?" She pressed.

"You're welcome to try once you have a bit more experience."

"What about long-distance communication?" She asked. "Has anyone invented that?"

If she could figure out a way to make magic take the place of her everyday modern conveniences, that would be handy. Not that she had anyone to communicate with, but the Inquisition could probably make use of it. 

"How would you work it?" He asked curiously. 

"I don't know. Mirrors, then you could get the visual. Connected books you could write messages in."

Like texting, but obviously different. Medieval texting.

He let out a thoughtful hum before commencing their lesson.