Dagna grabbed onto her hand, her eyes dissecting up and down her weapon as her fingers caressed it, "Is this it? The same staff from the Blight? Ancestors, I'd expect this to be in a reliquary or something fancy for people to pray to. Hm, solid core no doubt, and you've kept good care of it but everyone could use an update. What about something from everite?"
"That's quite all right," Lana interceded even as she let the dwarven woman keep a hold of her staff. "I don't need anything new."
"Oh," Dagna slapped her forehead, "of course, what you need is a rune. And not just any rune. I've been working on something that'll... Wait until you see it. It's probably my best work ever. And it'll be perfect for you. Please?!" Her eyes opened wide as she begged to show off to Lana.
Unable to crush her heart, Lana gave a, "Go ahead." Dagna yelped and dashed away to her workstation, Lana's staff in her hands.
The chill off the Inquisitor was evident and grew as Dagna began to sing under her breath. "My spymaster is an old friend of yours. You are related to the Champion of Kirkwall and have some undivulged history with Varric. I later learn you have a connection with the Arishock Iron Bull also answers to. And now it comes to my attention that I owe my arcanist's talents to your machinations." His steel eyes cut through her, causing Lana to stiffen. "Is there anyone else in Skyhold who owes their allegiance to you?"
"None of them would..." Lana began when Dagna broke from her work to wave at the warden with such fervor her elbow smacked into a pile of shields, scattering them to the ground. This wasn't helping her case.
"Right," the Inquisitor shook his head. "Do not think I am unaware of my precarious perch. To have the humans, with ties to the chantry, place so much power in a dalish elf's hands is unheard of. It is not beyond the pale to suspect them to yank it away from the elf savage at their first opportunity."
"I'm a mage," Lana cut in. In the scheme of things, she ranked above him in the eyes of the nobility, but not by much.
"A mage who has already saved the world once, built up alliances across thedas including the entire kingdom of Ferelden, if I am not mistaken."
"Don't let the name fool you, I don't command any armies there." She shifted back to Dagna to keep from wanting to knock those inspecting eyes out of his head. He lived up to his title well.
"No? But the rumors tying you with the King are..."
Lana's fingers bunched up into fists. Despite Alistair taking his perceived high road all those years ago, of course people spread lies that the Hero of Ferelden was seducing the new king, bedding the new king. How else would he stand a chance in power if she wasn't the one behind the throne? She'd shook them off as nonsense knowing that no matter what she wanted, she'd never touched the man when he was king. At least, she hadn't until...
"They are ancient," Lana responded, her own voice ice. "Ask your Spymaster if you don't believe me."
"Who would have no reason to lie, of course," the Inquisitor continued.
She could be enraged at his constant needling of her, but she understood. In this game, you watched everyone. Allies of convenience could turn even more deadly than enemies once the winds shifted. And her insisting she didn't want his job, didn't wish to taste his power, would only seem like a pathetic ploy to throw him off the scent. Leliana could handle herself, probably better than most. Hawke wouldn't care, assuming she'd even notice. Lana knew nothing of the Iron Bull, but if the Inquisitor truly thought she had any command of Sten then he needed to learn more of the world and quickly. Dagna was scrappy, unlikely to let anything stick upon her. No, there was only one concern for where Lana's undue influence lay, and she wasn't about to endanger him.
"If you wish to question me about something, have at it. I've been more than reasonable, more open than most other wardens you'd find." She didn't glare at the Inquisitor, only blanked her face and waited. For a moment, his calm broke, revealing a hint of his own pressures building behind him. She only had the wardens to worry about now, he had the entire world perched upon his shoulders. It was a feeling that still haunted her dreams at night, along with every other problem in her life. If they weren't at odds she'd almost want to offer up her own advice for how to live through it.
"I am asking you now so there are no more surprises later. Is there anyone else in Skyhold, anyone else loyal to the Inquisition whom you have aided or befriended in the past?"
She curled her hands around her stomach and thought, "I believe I once bought a horse off Master Dennet. Though that was ages ago, and it's doubtful he'd remember me now." The Inquisitor's eyes hunted over her face as he bobbed his head, her relation to the horsemaster apparently acceptable. Lana turned away and faced out at the waterfall. Her curiosity was dampened about it now thanks to the politics in the air. "Ah," she snapped her fingers as if suddenly remembering, "And your Commander, I heard he served in the same Circle as I for a couple of years before I joined the wardens."
The Inquisitor smiled, "That should be no problem. I can understand why he would not say anything."
"Oh?"
"His severity in the order is well known. And it's not as if templars and mages make for good bedfellows."
She didn't swallow in guilt or glance over at him, only grimly nodded her head. Mages and templars weren't supposed to be close, weren't meant to get along. But she knew more than her fair share of both sides who defected in the night. How would he, a Dalish no less, understand the complicated world of the Circle? To anyone outside the towers it appeared simple enough. The black chess piece facing off against the white, an eternal struggle where battles are won but never the war. No one ever wondered what happens on the board when the game isn't being fought. The quiet times when the black and white pawn find themselves falling for each other across the few squares in spite of every rule against it. Sometimes, it seemed like it would be easier if they did only hate each other.
"Hey!" Dagna waved her hand again, then ran towards Lana with her staff. She passed the wood to the mage's arms while chattering, "I can't believe you managed to get three enchantments into this."
"It took some doing, and a lot of research," Lana admitted, cupping her hands around that extension of her. Mounds and mounds of research while traveling across most of thedas done during her rare quiet moments. She'd been attending to other matters, but there was always room for improvement for both herself and her staff.
"Well, it's at four now."
Lana started, her head snapping up to Dagna. "Four? Andraste's grace, how did you get four into this?"
"By recalibrating the thaumic energy from your frost rune, I could divert the flow past that, uh darkspawn slaying one of yours. This opened up enough space for me to slot in what I've been working on," Dagna pointed to an indentation she made in the head of the staff. Most mages would have a crystal there, but Lana sacrificed it for the enchantments. Though, she did take the time to carve a small griffin into the end. She wasn't entirely beyond aesthetics. Reaching into her pocket, Dagna unearthed a rune and slotted it into place. The staff hummed to life, power reverberating up and down the core of the wood. Power she'd normally have to work her own mana into it to achieve.
"Maker's breath, Dagna, this is brilliant!" Lana beamed. The dwarf jumped up, clapping her hands in joy, and then she caught the mage in another hug. "What is the rune you inserted, if you don't mind my asking?"
"Ah, it's one of the corrupting ones," she still clung to Lana like a proud child.
"Corrupting ones?"
"Thanks to the Inquisitor's work, I've been whipping them up left and right. They use red lyrium to corrupt any uncorrupted individuals into corruptedness. Corrupting all around." Dagna chattered ecstatic about her invention, but Lana's smile froze. Red lyrium. She'd been tracking the stuff for a few months with Hawke and Anders on her heel. They didn't travel everywhere together. It would have raised suspicion and with each passing day Lana feared she'd finally make good on her promise to end Anders. Maker, she forgot how annoying that man could be, even with Justice knocking about in his h
ead. By the time she thought she had a breakthrough, Corypheus attacked the Temple and everything in the world changed.
"I see..." Lana said, twisting her staff around. She was less than thrilled about the power inside of it now.
"Do you like it? I hope you like it. Please tell me you like it," Dagna sputtered out.
Plastering on a smile, Lana nodded at her, "It's perfect. Maker only knows what I'll face soon. Thank you, Dagna. You've done amazing work."
"She has indeed," the Inquisitor spoke up. Dagna blushed from all the attention, but Lana caught the edge of the threat. The dwarven arcanist did the work only at the behest of the Inquisition, no one else. Lana slipped her staff back and forth in her hands, getting a feel for the imperceptible change in weight. Most wouldn't notice a three gram rune tacked onto the top, but she'd lived with this staff for ten years. A raindrop changed her form.
The Inquisitor watched her, his own arms folded up, "You best prepare yourself. I hear a storm is coming."
Lana squared her shoulders and nodded. She was ready for whatever storms thedas would dare throw her way.
Chapter Fifteen
Storms
Frozen rain splattered against her face and she raised up her barrier, but even that could only block a quarter of the force of nature raging against her. "When he said a storm, I thought he was being metaphorical!" Lana screamed in the wind to her compatriot. Hawke shrugged. She began the night with a shield but it didn't last long. Hawke seemed to be allergic to the things.
The final vestiges of a vengeful winter blasted across Skyhold. Normally, it would require everyone to hole up in their rooms beside the fire listening to the howl of the wind and setting up for a round of babies in nine months, but this wasn't any storm. Perhaps it was because of the tear in the sky, or the increasing movement of people flocking through the mountains that created winds roaring enough to tip towers back and forth. Ice sheets formed within an hour over doors and windows, trapping the faithful inside.
"He said we had to get the main gate closed. Or was it open?" Hawke screamed. All of the mages assembled in the great hall once the storm began. The orders came from the Inquisitor that they were to use whatever magic was at their disposal to combat the storm and keep Skyhold in one piece. Soldiers slipped in and out of the chattering robes to accompany the mages at the behest of their commander. The mages weren't happy about it, but Cullen explained they weren't there to control them, only to provide cover and protection. Even Lana thought he was speaking half truths until she got into the wind. Hawke had to pin her arms down and cling tight to keep Lana from whipping away over the wall.
"We are to close the gates without destroying them!" Lana screamed. She didn't bring proper winter gear with her to Skyhold, certainly nothing to survive this blizzard. If it weren't for her maintaining a constant internal burn across her skin, she'd be as frozen solid as the winch upon the battlements.
"Right!" Hawke wrapped her hands around the massive gear, "Tell me when to turn."
"Maker, help me," Lana moaned. She peered over the edge to spy the great chain leading down to the door. Right now the open door was creating a dangerous wind tunnel churning through the courtyard. If they didn't get it closed, who knew how much damage this storm could inflict. Swiping snow out of her eyes, Lana twisted up the fire inside of her and aimed it at the metal chain. Fire was never her friend, not the way it was for some mages. She could manipulate it, call it into being, but it fought back and using it so close to wood set her teeth on edge. Twisting her fingers as far from the landing as possible, her flames coated the chain. The icy buildup began to melt, dripping away from the gears.
"Try it now!" she cried at Hawke.
Putting those muscles to good use, her cousin leaned into the winch. The chain rose a few feet, taking the drawbridge with it. Lana kept a constant spray of fire aimed far from both of them, her fingers freeing the chain that Hawke hauled upward. It was working and so far she hadn't set anything else on fire. "Wait!" Lana shouted, and Hawke grabbed onto the wheel before it all spun back. "We have to get the other side!"
"How's that gonna work?" Hawke shouted back through the howling winds. "This ain't gonna hold."
"If we don't do it together, the chain will snap," Lana explained, waving her hand towards the other winch on the far battlements.
"Why don't those two handle it?" Hawke gestured to a pair of men inching their way towards the high wall. One was an elf, his bald head slick with ice and snow, the other...Lana blinked and shook her head. For a moment he looked like a bear growling into the winds, a hand thrown up against them as he leaned into it. "Hey you!" Hawke tried to lift her voice over the wind but there was no chance it would carry. Mercifully, the men appeared to have the same idea as them.
While the probably not a bear heaved onto the winch, the elven mage directed his own fire at the chain. Slowly, their side lifted to join with Lana's and Hawke's. "All right!" Hawke cried, "Let's get this door open!"
"Closed," Lana sighed.
"Whatever!" Hawke screamed back, having the time of her life despite the threat of frostbite and high mountain winds chucking them off the walls and to their deaths. Lana directed the next blast of fire at the chain while Hawke did what she did best. In fact, she did it so well, Lana had to call for her to stop on occasion so the men would catch up.
"Are you showing off?" Lana asked, shaking her head. She could only see Hawke out of the corner of her eye.
Her cousin shrugged a shoulder while keeping her grip on the winch, "Wouldn't you?"
It took a few more turns of the wheel, but by and by, the drawbridge shuttered, closing off the gap with a final thud. Almost instantly the wind died down in the courtyard. People rose up from their hunkered down stance to run for it, no longer fighting against the wind to try and secure the horses and tents. At least someone thought to move the injured off the ground and into shelter before the true storm began. The only remaining job was sealing off the winch. Hawke reached for the lock, but it wouldn't budge.
"Uh, cuz, you think you can unfreeze this too?" she asked, pointing at the lock.
Lana twisted around, certain she could do anything, when she spotted the lock buried inside a wooden beam that connected to the scaffolding running down to the door. Shaking her head, she zipped away any fire inside her, even blanketing down the burn. Cold thundered against her skin, the ice nipping like tiny insects across her face and fingers. "So, I just stay here until the storm passes then?" Hawke asked.
"I have another idea." Lana rolled her fingers and called up her old friend ice. "Slip to the side, please," she ordered. While Hawke reached as far as she could without letting go, Lana unleashed her own winter storm upon the winch. Ice sheets piled two, three, four meters thick, coating the winch in an impenetrable shield. Hawke yanked her hand away as Lana finished her dome, sealing the lock until summer or someone with a better control of fire came along.
"And that's why we call you Snowflake," Hawke cooed, wiping her hands against her pants.
"You don't call me Snowflake," Lana answered back, exhaustion swirling through her arms.
"How about him?" Hawke pointed behind her and Lana twisted around to follow it. On the higher level, Cullen stood alone trying to hack his way into a door.
"What about him?" She shook her head, trying to keep up with the conversation, but her eyes didn't drift from the lone man struggling against the winds. Her fingers ached to throw a barrier around him, but it'd never reach at this distance.
"Do you think he needs help?" Hawke asked.
Spinning to face her, Lana nodded, "No idea how we'll get up there."
"I've got something. How're your climbing skills?" Hawke asked. She dipped down to a knee and bundled her hands together like a stool.
Warily eyeing up her cousin, Lana stepped into it. Her fingers tried to find a grip on the champion's armor that was coated in ice. "They're shit, why?"
"Then hang on," Hawke shouted. Like she was chucking a log during
a competition, Hawke threw Lana into the sky. She wished she could say she didn't scream, or curse her cousin in every language available to her, but as her body flew through the stinging night air her brain crashed to panic mode. It wasn't until she was on the downward trajectory that Lana realized she'd have to catch herself or risk a broken leg. Reaching forward against the wind, her hands managed to snag the end of a ladder someone began to pull away from the edge. Her feet dug into the icy rock and she hung just off a fall over the cliff's edge. Whispering a curse and thanks, Lana scrabbled up to the next level.
After making certain she wasn't dead, she turned around and shouted at her cousin, "Why did you do that?!"
"Because it worked, of course."
"Sweet Andraste, take me now," Lana muttered. She wiped her face off, reviving her internal burning to shake off the ice. Gathering what strength remained in her wobbling legs, she chased after Cullen along the battlements. His sword was doing little by way of getting into the door because he kept pausing to check the snow threatening to slip off the roof.
"What do you need?" Lana shouted behind him.
Cullen twisted partially around and nodded at her, "There's blankets and other stores inside that might be useful, but..." he gestured to the snow above him.
"Got it," Lana steadied herself against the winds. This high up, they were no longer an annoyance but a real threat. If she lost her footing, she was going over the wall where a crushing death awaited her. Digging into her mana, Lana called up a spell. Cullen continued his way into the door now with wild abandon. He didn't glance up at the snow drifting ever closer to him with each slash against the hinges, trusting she'd handle it.
The door cracked, bending to his whims, when the snow made a move. Gritting her teeth, and with the force of the fade, Lana shoved every flake of it off the door, over the battlements, and onto the cliffs below. Blinking from her display, Cullen turned around, "I thought you were going to set it on fire or something."
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