Work Text:
“Shall we dance?” a sudden voice asked.
Startled, Jace looked over his shoulder to see a beautifully dressed man standing behind him, hand outstretched. The Inquisitor’s fake smile was quickly replaced by one filled with warmth and a hint of mirth. The former Templar before him stood decked in the finest of male Orlesian finery. He wore deep crimson clothing, a color that suited him well and cut a fine figure. Finely embroidered gold thread created the fabled sword of mercy across the dark sash Cullen wore to compliment his outfit. And on his face, he wore a black mask, trimmed in gold and set with rubies along the eyes. Oh, his beautiful eyes. Eyes like the dawn. Eyes that held the fires of the sunset within their depths. Eyes of creation, of life. Cullen was truly a breathtaking creature, and he managed to take Jace’s very breath away. The man stood proud like a lord of old, commanding the attention of an entire ballroom with his mere presence. He evoked an image of another era, a world long past.
“Viv?” Jace asked playfully, shaking himself out of his awe-induced stupor.
Cullen quirked a small smile in response and kept his hand outstretched. Jace, without hesitation, reached forward with his hand only for Cullen to grasp it and bow over it with effortless grace.
And so they danced. Under the gaze of an Orlesian empress and her nobles, the pair lost themselves in each other’s movements, alone in a world made for two.
-------------------------
Jace awoke to darkness, briefly disoriented. He was still not used to sleeping in the guesthouse Celene had given as a gift to her most useful ally. It lay on the city’s egde and overlooked the Waking Sea. Jace felt the hard, broad body next to him stir, before a large, sleepy hand reached over to pull him back into Cullen’s warm embrace. The mage reveled in his lover’s warmth for a few blissful minutes before managing to extricate himself from the muscled arms of his Templar. Jace quietly stepped through the darkness to find a silken robe to throw on before leaving the room he shared with Cullen. He silently stalked the dark halls of the mansion, lost in both thought and in memory. But only when he reached the great balcony overlooking the sea did he pause.
Waiting for him was a hooded figure, one who watched the reflected stars within the waters below. Strangely, Jace felt no alarm in seeing this figure, which beckoned to him. The battlemage felt his feet begin to move of their own accord, and when he tried to shout, he found that his voice had been silenced. Finally, the control over his body dissipated as he reached the side of this unknown person. Gloved hands drew back a hood that unleashed deep white tresses of hair, whiter than the snow even in Skyhold. This snowy hair cradled the face of a woman ancient in years. But upon closer inspection, Jace could see the remnants of beauty that had once graced this creature, an echo of what once was. A beauty that had enthralled many men, launched wars, and wrought destruction, all in service to her.
Ah, but it was the eyes that truly completed this vision. Jace beheld orbs of moonlit yellow that glowed with a fell light. Eyes that spoke of the deep mysteries forever lost to time, of words unspoken since the birth of light itself. In her eyes, Jace could see the beginning of all reality, as well as the end of all things. The man began to tremble in fear. His anxiety doubled when the woman smirked in an almost predatory fashion.
“Well, well, well...what have we here?” she queried.
“W-what are you?” Jace replied in fear-stricken awe.
“I am the call in the night. I am the prayer left unspoken in the dying heart. I am the longest shadow, the darkest dream. I am the void that swallows the light, dear boy. But more importantly, I am an old, old woman, who has seen more than you can imagine.”
“Why are you here?” Jace queried into the night, eyes turning towards the Waking Sea.
“To give words of advice, for you are sorely in need of it.”
At this, Jace jerked his gaze from the waters below to the woman. “I don’t need your help,” he said. “I know what I must do.”
She turned her poisonously amused gaze towards the heavens above, and loosed a grand sigh. “Empty words to cling to in the night, as your world falls around you.”
Jace’s face creased with confusion, unsure of what the witch was referring to.
At his silence, her fell gaze once again settled on him. She whispered, “Are you prepared for what is to come? We have already begun the plunge into the abyss. Now we must see if this world is ready to fly. So again will I ask, are you prepared?"
“I am," he said resignedly.
She smirked. “Liar. You cling to the broken promises of an ancient order, hoping to end a threat that is beyond your mortal comprehension. What you dub ‘The Breach’ is merely a herald of what is to come. And from what I see here, you will perish, as will everyone you love, all lost to the dying light.”
Jace in a tired voice asked, “Have you come to torment me? Make me question everything I have done, everything I will do?"
The witch's fell eyes softened at the desperate tone in the man's voice. “Know this, childe of the stars: be all that you are, and never doubt the paths you have trodden. Regret forever poisons the soul, leaving one trapped in what might have been.”
Jace just nodded at the witch in resigned acquiescence.
“Step carefully, young man. No path is darker than when one's eyes are shut.” And with those parting words, the woman began to glow, and radiant golden light surrounded her. Jace was forced to cover his eyes, lest he be rendered blind. A strong gust of wind threw the man off his feet. Dazed, he watched the largest high dragon that he had ever seen fly into the night, the hunter's moon illuminating the gargantuan form. As he rose to his feet, he could hear the night guardsmen exclaim in awe at the creature's majestic form.
Shaking his head in quiet confusion, he turned to head back inside. However, barring his path was a woman in Orlesian finery that bore startlingly familiar eyes. The ever-mysterious Morrigan studied Jace's form, undoubtedly having witnessed the conversation between himself and...whatever that creature was.
Taking a chance, Jace asked, “Was that-”
“-my mother? Yes. Flemeth, the infamous Witch of the Wilds..." Morrigan replied in a bitter tone.
Jace stood in stunned silence, in awe of the legend he had just held a conversation with. What had he been thinking? Flemeth could have crushed him in a heartbeat. His own magic could not hold a candle to her level of power.
Morrigan stepped past him, to stand before the balcony's edge. “She spoke to you of sacrifice, did she not?”
Jace shook his head, trying to cipher through Flemeth's cryptic words. “I suppose she did, in a somewhat confusing fashion. I don't know if I can truly follow her words.”
With her back to him, the woman replied, “She once spoke to me as she did you. However, I chose to be selfish. I chose to fight the fate that destiny had bestowed upon me. As a result, I have seen more of this world than you can imagine. I have walked paths that few have dared to dream of, seen beings that you could not comprehend, worked magic that would shatter your mind…"
Morrigan's tone had turned wistful, lost in the her distant memories.
Tired of the games, the Inquisitor raised his now glowing hand, and asked the witch plainly, “What am I? What is this mark?”
She told him, “You are the grand composer of this opening act. One meant to catalyze an age of change for this world. Another shall rise in the east to close this tale, but that is not your path to walk.”
With a growing amount of anger, Jace threw his hands up in frustration, “Why can no one tell me what the hell is going on? WHAT IS THIS ACCURSED MARK?!”
Morrigan's expression turned regretful and sad. “I cannot tell you more than I already have. To speak more would compromise your freedom to choose, and that is the one thing I will never take from you. I am sorry.”
Just like her mother had, Morrigan's quiet form began to glow. Instead of a radiant gold, this woman glowed an angelic blue. Where her mother's light had demonstrated nothing but pure power, Morrigan's light was soft, and being bathed in it soothed some of the aches that beset Jaces's heart. But before she was entirely consumed, Jace could see the gentle tear that rolled down her face. A small breeze flew around the balcony, as Morrigan's body dissolved into countless beautiful butterflies, each glowing a dazzling blue. Jace came to the edge of the balcony, to watch them fly up into the moonlit night. A hand touched his shoulder, and before he knew it, a hand had slipped around his waist. Cullen now stood beside him, both lost within thought and memory, watching the beautiful blue creatures dance across the sky.