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The eluvian nestled into the closed-off portion of the Winter Palace pulsed long after Falen’s party stumbled out of it, Cullen and Josephine waiting on the other side for them.
No one knew why Falen had not come through with them, and the eluvian would not let them reenter.
“Fuckin’ piece of glowy shite!” Sera yelled at it, kicking the frame in vain. “Why won’t it let us go back and find her?”
“I don’t know,” Dorian replied, “I wish I did.”
“That qunari said Solas was behind this,” Cassandra added. “Maybe the eluvian took her to wherever he is?”
“That doesn’t make sense. Why would it separate us?”
“Maybe because she’s elven?”
“That’s bull, because then I would’ve been dragged with her,” Sera glared. “She’s upset, she’s hurt, and it’s all his stupid fault.”
Josephine looked more worried than before, wringing her hands anxiously. “What do you mean she’s upset? I know the anchor was hurting her, but…”
Dorian took up the explanation as Josephine looked to him. “It spread and started consuming her, letting out these discharged pulses that would knock her around without any warning. She went flying a few times; I think it knocked her unconscious once. None of us know how to handle this, Josephine. I’m sorry. And without Solas or Morrigan here, we don’t know how to tamper with eluvians.”
Josephine’s hand stayed clamped over her mouth, tears nearly threatening to spill. Cullen put his hand between her shoulders and got her to sit on one of the nearby barrels. She nodded her thanks, shaking. “Maybe it took her somewhere else because of the anchor?”
“It’s as good an explanation as any. Unless we can activate another eluvian, we just have to -”
The eluvian began pulsing with stronger intensity before glowing, Josephine standing up immediately as a shadowy figure began forming from within the mirror. “Falen!” Seconds later, the Inquisitor stepped out of the eluvian, the mirror going brightly before becoming completely dull behind her. “Maker, Falen, what’s happened!?” She rushed forward, catching her as she fell to her knees.
Falen didn’t have the strength to move, breathing hard as blood dripped out of her too-long sleeve. “What the fuck?” “Fal, are you alright? Give me your arm!” “Guards! Get the healers, now!” She heard her friends’ voices and the rising panic in them, but she couldn’t focus. Her shoulder was on fire, what was left of her arm was even worse, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she buried her face into Josephine’s shoulder and screamed.
Dorian dropped beside her immediately, working to move the useless sleeve. He barely jumped back in time as Cullen stepped in, easily cutting it away with his knife. “Can you cauterize it?” Dorian nodded. “Do it.” Cullen held onto the joint just above where Falen’s arm was missing and her shoulder, stabilizing her as Dorian drew fire into his hands.
“I am so, so sorry, Fal,” he whispered. “Josephine, whatever you do, don’t let her go.”
“Never,” she snapped, angry in order to keep terror out of her voice. One arm was wrapped around Falen’s waist in a vice grip, the other combing through her hair. “That’s never happening again.”
“Hey, hey Fal - we’re gonna throw a bunch of pies at the Orlesians once we’re good here, right?” Sera was at Dorian’s left, not showing her usual uneasiness at his magic for once in her effort to keep her friend occupied. Falen couldn’t move to face Sera even if she wanted to, but she appreciated the distraction as the archer listed off the the pranks she wanted to pull that required Falen’s full involvement.
She screamed again as fire moved under her nerve endings despite Dorian’s careful application of it to stop the bleeding. He wasn’t trained in this, he barely knew a thing about field medicine, but the healers wouldn’t get here in time if he couldn’t stop the bleeding now. He felt ill every time she screamed and tried to jerk away, but between Cullen’s grip and Josephine’s embrace, she had nowhere to go. He hadn’t even noticed that Cassandra had a hold on her legs to make sure she didn’t kick out at any of them in self-defense.
He wiped the fire out of his hands as soon as the majority of the bleeding stopped, just in time for the healers to burst into the room, a stretcher just behind them carried by Iron Bull and Krem. Dorian had never felt so grateful that the Inquisitor’s friends refused to let basic guard duties fall to the actual guards. They moved her out, barely saying a word to anyone but Falen who had gone unconscious and themselves, green and blue magic shimmering over her as they tried to heal her arm as quickly as they could.
Iron Bull got her onto the stretcher with no effort, and he and Krem moved quickly as the healers ordered them to the infirmary to patch Falen up as best as possible. Dorian and Sera followed them, meaning to guard them to their destination and to keep prying political eyes from the Inquisitor, but Thom Rainier and Varric had already beaten them to it. Bianca was primed and ready to fire at less than a second’s notice, and as they moved forward a barrier snapped up over them, Vivienne waiting for them by the gate.
Dorian sagged in relief knowing the rest of the Inquisition would never let harm come to her.
“What should we do?” Cassandra asked, coming up to the entrance with Josephine.
“I’m going to the infirmary. I refuse to leave her alone,” Josephine replied.
None of them wanted to leave Falen as injured as she was, and thus most of the high-ranking members of the Inquisition sat in a vigil in front of the infirmary, save for Josephine and Vivienne, one refusing to leave her lover’s side and the other directing the mages helping the Inquisitor.
Dawn broke, and a few servants of the Winter Palace brought down tea and some breakfast breads courtesy of the Divine. Bleary-eyed and no one having slept much, if at all, the Inquisition wolfed them down without much talking. Vivienne came out within an hour, looking exhausted and almost haggard.
“What happened?” Thom asked. “I’ve seen soldiers with wounds like that; it’s never taken a team of three mages an entire night to patch it up.”
She sighed. “It wasn’t taken off with a simple sword; the anchor literally ate her arm away, and the magic from it was taken by another magic that we’ve never seen before. It was all we could do to keep that from killing our Inquisitor.”
“Shit-lord,” Sera spat. “I call firing off the first arrow at Solas when we find him.”
“Feel free, my dear, but however he did this probably saved her life.” Sera scowled further. “She’s asleep, for now. I want her to rest for at least today after that kind of blood loss. It was a good thing you were able to seal off the arteries, Dorian. She wouldn’t have survived if you had not.”
He thought he’d feel relieved at that, knowing he saved his best friend’s life. But he couldn’t stop hearing her screaming in pain at something he did, even if it was for her own good, and he couldn’t forgive himself for that. He simply nodded shortly at Vivienne; she seemed to understand.
Varric rubbed a hand down his face. “I’ll pull some of my contacts in. Give me a week and I can have a prosthetic that can withstand her magic. I might need you or Sparkler to test that part, though. Hard to for dwarves to test hurling a fireball at someone.”
Vivienne nodded. “I’ll send someone from the College to work with you, that won’t be a problem, my dear.”
Sera jumped and swore when Cole slid up behind her. “I can feel her, now. The magic from the mark isn’t hiding her anymore.”
“See anything unusual, Kid?”
Cole paused before speaking. “Fear, terror, what does this mean for my people? How did we get everything so wrong? We fought to reclaim, to revive, to restore, and everything we thought was true were lies.”
“Because it’s all his fault!” Sera yelled. “It’s his fault she’s upset and I want to put an arrow in his foot!”
“What happened, exactly?” Thom asked.
They explained everything they’d learned in the Crossroads. The true fate of the evanuris, the so-called elvhen gods, how Fen’Harel created the veil to seal them away, and in doing so, destroyed the world. How the vallaslin were never meant to be proud, how they were the markings of slaves and telling of who owned them. How completely devastated Falen had been speaking to the spirit of the Archivist, the only able to speak in the same language as it, her world rocked as her people’s fate was revealed.
Varric was the first to speak, muttering something about how ‘Daisy was going to shit herself,’ followed by an order to his Seneschal to get a letter to Hawke and his Dalish contact that they’ll be needed at Skyhold, and to apologize to the Captain of the Guard that he won’t be back as soon as he thought.
Waiting was all they could do for now, but the immediate danger was over. She survived whatever magic Solas had used to remove the anchor, and the aftermath wouldn’t be something she’d have to handle alone.
The Inquisition, no matter its form, would always have her back.