Healing the Dark - Dragon Age Inquisition Fanfic

"Is she...?" Varric was hesitant to say the word. 

"Alive," Solas replied from where he knelt by her prone form. 

Varric watched him examine her, checking her mark. The Breach was still in the sky, but it was different, calmer. And no longer shooting demons and fade debris all over the place. 

"Her mark appears to have stabilised, as has the Breach," Solas said. "We must get her back to Haven."

Varric nodded as Solas picked her up. The dwarf reached up, wrapping her tightly in her cloak. He'd noticed her struggle against the cold. 

It would be a long trek back to the village, but the air about them all was different, hopeful and relieved. Though the Breach remained, there were a few smiles among them. It wasn't a complete victory, but it was a hard-won victory, and one they had so desperately needed. This would give everyone time to rest, assess, and process. It felt like they could finally take a moment to breathe.

Once in Haven she was taken to the nearest empty home. Solas stayed with her while Varric went to fetch Adan. He figured the Seeker was busy with the others trying to come up with the next step. That woman was driven and iron-willed. 

"Master Adan," Varric greeted as he entered the healer's hut. "We are in need of your services." 

The man heaved a long-suffering sigh before handing the dwarf a box of potions and medicaments. "Carry this. I'm assuming this is to do with the child."

"It is." 

Adan picked up a bag and his notebook before following Varric outside. "What's wrong with her?"

"She's unconscious. Honestly, that seems to be the extent of the problem, but just in case..."

Adan entered the home where Solas was tending to Holli, her saturated shoes and socks on the floor beside the bed. 

"She has superficial frostbite on her fingers, toes, and ears," Solas told him. "Other than that, she appears fine. I suspect unconsciousness was brought on by the magical backlash and the strain of wielding such powerful magic. And possibly her exhaustion."

"Frostbite, eh. Finally, a normal problem from the girl." 

Varric chuckled at the gruff man's words. True enough. 

Solas watched the man work. He'd not examined her ears when he'd been healing her before; there'd been no need, and he'd been preoccupied with her more critical injuries. Her ears were pointed. It had been a little difficult to tell given the amount of metal she had in them, but sure enough, they weren't entirely human. 

Though most half-elves looked predominantly human, occasionally they bore some elven characteristics. Her ears were in no way like his own, like any full-blooded elf. But he was certain she was half elven. During Varric's questions on their trek, she'd said they didn't have elves in her world. Or magic. What she was contradicted both those assertions. It was possible she just didn't know... 

Once Adan left, Solas and Varric gave the girl some privacy while they had an elven woman change her out of her wet clothes and into something warm and dry. While that was being done, Cassandra and Leliana arrived to check her status. 

"Still out cold," Varric told them. 

"I suspect she won't be up for some time," Solas added.

"So where do we go from here?"

The two women exchanged a glance; clearly, whatever was going on, they were not going to make Varric and Solas privy to it just yet. 

"The Breach is still there; we must find a way to seal it completely. Thoughts?" Leliana looked to Solas. 

"I believe she couldn't close it because she just doesn't have enough power. No one person does." 

"So we need to get her more power." 

Solas gave a nod. "But this is just theory. I could be mistaken."

"It's something," Cassandra said. 

"Any theories on who the attacker was in that vision?" Varric asked.

"No. His voice was completely unfamiliar." 

The elf exited Holli's room. "She's still asleep, but she's dry and warming up, already looking better." With that, she was gone. 

Varric entered the room. Holli had been changed and tucked into bed. She was a tiny little thing, her long black hair splayed across the pillow, her little form bundled up with blankets. She had some ointment on the edges of her ears for the frostbite. Adan said that should heal them quickly. 

"So the mark is no longer killing her?" Varric asked, wanting to be sure. 

"No. How long that will last, I don't know." 

Varric was relieved she would be all right for now. It bought them time at least, time they could use to remove this mark from her. 

"That's still a relief."

Solas nodded. 

"How do you think she got here?"

"I am at a loss. She says she comes from a world without magic, and she had no idea she was a mage. Yet magic had to have brought her here." 

Varric set Bianca down, leaning her against the foot of the bed before pulling up a chair and taking a seat, resting his feet on it. 

"I'll stay with her, keep an eye on her." 

Solas nodded. "Call for me if anything happens."

"Will do." 

-

Holli sat up, a cry dying on her lips, gasping for breath, shaking hands feeling her chest for blood. A hand on her shoulder had her jumping, eyes wide.

"You're safe, little bird."

He watched the wild look in her eyes dissipate as awareness set in. 

"Varric..." She said, sitting up and scrubbing her hands down her face, wincing at the bright light in one of them.

"I'm going to pretend the disappointment in your tone doesn't hurt," he told her, his smile letting her know he wasn't serious.

"Sorry. It's nothing personal; I'd just hoped that... That the next time I woke up, I'd be in my own world."

"Fair enough." 

"Did- did someone dress me?" She asked, looking down at herself. 

"They did. It was a woman, if that makes you feel less violated." 

"You'd think so, but not really..." She drew her knees up, looking around the place. "So, did it work? Is the Breach closed?"

"No. But it is stabilised; it's no longer growing or spitting out demons."

She looked at the mark on her hand, opening and closing her fist a couple of times. "It feels different. So am I to be carted off for execution now?"

"I don't think the Seeker would let that happen. They still need you to close the Breach after all."

She gave him a wry look. "So what you're saying is as long as the Breach is open and I'm still needed, they won't execute me? Not much incentive to close the Breach then, is it?"

Varric chuckled. 

"How long have I been out?"

"Three days." 

"What!?" Her big blue eyes widened with shock. "Are you fucking with me?"

"I am not, no. Closing that rift, it really took it out of you. Solas said it completely depleted your magic, which was already too low to begin with. And the magical backlash knocked you right out." 

"I don't have magic." It sounded almost pouty. 

Varric figured it was probably best not to pursue that. Until she managed to use her magic, he doubted she would ever believe it. 

"Well, if they're not going to execute me, what is going to happen now?"

"Cassandra brought your things." 

He gestured to a pile on the floor at the end of the bed she had yet to notice. It was her school bag and the duffel with all her camp shit. There was blood on both. Hers she guessed. She repressed a shudder, shaking what little memory she had of being shot away. School shootings were meant to be an American thing. 

She got off the bed, a little shaky, so much so that Varric got off his chair to help steady her.

"Thanks." 

She crouched beside her bag, zipping it open and digging around inside. Surprisingly, not much blood had seeped into the bag, just on her top layer of clothes. 

"I am about to share something with you, Varric. Something I value very highly and of which I only have few," she said, her tone deathly serious. 

"It's not a secret, is it? I'm not sure I want any more of those." 

"No, far better than a secret," she replied, revealing her prize.

Varric just frowned, unsure what it was.

"Damn, so you don't have them here then." 

"What is it?"

"A Snickers," she replied, unwrapping the chocolate bar, breaking it in half, and holding the second piece out for him as she poorly ahhhed the sound of a holy choir. 

He chuckled as he took the piece. He inspected it carefully, even sniffed it first.

"Yum yum," she urged him, taking a bite of her own. Her eyes slipped closed, and she sat on the floor, leaning against the bed. She really needed this. Not just for the hunger—she apparently hadn't eaten in days—but also for the stress.

"It's certainly chewy."

"Good chewy."

"Good chewy," he agreed. "It's pretty damn good." 

"So damn good." 

"Food from another world..." 

"Just think, the first in your world to eat otherworldly food." 

They chewed in silence, grinning at each other. Good, he liked it; it wasn't wasted on him then. After finishing her half, she was tempted to eat another. But she really did only have a few; she needed to ration them. She had a wealth of other junk food in there, but again, she needed to ration it. She was so fucking hungry, though.

Their silence was interrupted as a young woman entered the cabin holding a box. At the sight of Holli, she dropped the box, sputtering apologies and something about Seeker Pentagast wanting to see her at once. The girl seemed almost terrified of Holli as she scurried out the door.

"What was that?" She asked Varric, bewildered.

"That is what happens when someone is being lauded as touched by Divinity."

"What?" 

"They're calling you the Herald of Andraste. They've decided it was a woman behind you in the rift, Andraste herself sending you here to save us."

"Who the hell is Andraste?"

Varric gave a dry chuckle and shook his head. "Try not to ask that in front of the masses. Get dressed, little bird; I'll see about getting you some water to clean up with."

He left her alone then. Little bird?

She'd never had a nickname before. Curtis called her bruvs; she called him bruvs too sometimes. But they both called all their friends bruvs, it was more a term of endearment than a nickname. 

She wasn't sure if she should be offended by litte bird or not; they were fragile and useless. It grated on her that it wasn't entirely inaccurate. She couldn't fight; she'd struggled to climb the mountain, and this whole world was unknown to her. 

The affection in his voice as he said it, though, that warmed her to him. Incentive enough not to be offended by it, she supposed. 

Holli pulled out some clothes, clean underwear, a pair of jeans, her black thermal top, and her pea coat and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her snow boots and woollen socks. Water arrived in short order, and she was able to brush her hair—matted mess that it was—and then pull on her pink woollen hat with the big fluffy pompoms. With that done, she slapped on some lip balm and headed outside, wrapping her scarf around her neck. She felt much more like a person than she had the last time she'd been awake. A shower would be nice, though.

Outside, she froze at the sight of all the people. They looked up at her almost as one as she exited the house. They stared. She stared back. Was she supposed to do something? Were they going to attack? Too quiet for an angry mob...

"Come on, kid."

Varric seemingly materialised out of thin air beside her. 

"What is going on?" She asked quietly.

"Manipulation of the masses," he replied, just as quietly. "Could work in our favour, though. Chantry is this way." 

She shoved her hands into her pockets and followed a step behind him. The people were lining the streets, and every now and then she'd hear a whisper or hushed comment about her. There was a sense of awe in some of them that made her ridiculously uncomfortable and a scepticism in a few that made her wary. 

They reached the Chantry, and she recognised it as the building she had been held prisoner in; she remembered Cassandra practically dragging her out of it. She hesitated at the entrance.

"It's not a trap, I promise," Varric chuckled.

She looked down at him, weighing up his words. He seemed sincere. 

"Would they tell you if it was?" She asked softly, stepping inside. 

"No," he grinned. 

He walked her to the door at the end of the room where they could hear voices inside, and not happy ones.

"Here is where I leave you. When you're done, though, come find me; I promised you a drink."

"Will do, if I get out of here alive." 

Varric chuckled as he walked away. 

-

Varric looked up from where he was poking at the fire; he felt a presence arrive beside him. It was the kid, shuffling closer to the fire and holding her hands towards it. She looked so much younger and smaller out in the daylight. But at least she seemed to be coping with the cold better in those clothes. Her hat was ridiculous. 

"How are you not freezing your arse off?" She asked, looking him up and down sceptically.

"I'll admit it's cold, but I'm a dwarf. We're hardy."

"So it is 'dwarf,' not 'little person'?"

"What?" He asked, barking a surprised laugh. 

"Where I come from, the PC term is 'little person.' Unless they changed it, what's PC changes quite often."

"You ever call me a little person, I'm not sharing my drink with you. We're dwarves here, Children of the Stone."

He turned to his tent, going inside and pulling out a flask—his emergency stash. It was swill, but it was powerful. 

"So how was it?" He asked, taking a swig before offering it to her.

"All good, all good," she replied, taking a drink. She cringed as it hit her tongue, and once she'd swallowed it down, she started coughing. "Bloody hell, is this turpentine?"

Varric laughed at her dramatics.

"I figured this situation called for the hard stuff, not the good stuff." 

"You don't have something that's both?"

"Not for free," he grinned.

She laughed a little then, handing the flask back. "Fair enough." 

"Take a seat," he told her, gesturing to the stump beside her.

It was a little further from the fire than she would have liked, but she did as she was told. 

"I have to say, you're taking this all remarkably well. A new world, things you've never seen before, a mark on your hand that could kill you, a hole in the sky you're expected to close..."

"Oh, I'm not taking it well at all. I'm repressing it and just hoping I'll wake up."

"Well, all right then." He offered the flask back to her, and she took another drink. "If you do need someone to hear you out, though..."

She bit her lip, nodding. She doubted she'd ever take him up on it, but it was nice of him to offer.

"What do you remember? From before you got here."

Her last memories were not pleasant, and the question was enough to send her back there: the screams in the hall, the pops of the gunshots, Katie bursting into the bathroom covered in blood...

Varric recognised the glazed look in her eyes; she'd gone back there. Her breathing quickened and her skin paled. It didn't take long before she was almost gasping for breath, her chest heaving; there was a tremor to her hands. He dropped his hand heavily onto her shoulder, snapping her from it. Her eyes were wide when they fixed on him.

"Not pleasant then," he muttered softly. 

"No, not really," her voice was almost a whisper.

In the quiet stillness it was harder to think back on it than it had been before. It was probably a mercy there were gaps. Probably adrenaline or trauma maybe.

"Like I said, I'm here if you need." 

"They're starting something—they're calling it the Inquisition. Historically, where I come from, Inquisitions haven't been good things," she told him.

She cast him a worried look. Given he didn't know any of the history of her world, he couldn't say.

"They killed thousands, a lot of them burnt alive at the stake... Is that something they do here?"

"I can't say it's never happened, but it's certainly not common practice."

"What about the execution of innocents en masse?"

"Again, I can't say it's never happened, but it's not common."

"I don't want to be the mascot for an evil cult," she told him worriedly.

"If it comes to that, I'll smuggle you out of here myself. We'll start our own cult."

She smiled at him then, a pretty smile with a hefty dose of relief. "With blackjack and hookers?"

The reference was lost on him.