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2015-12-06
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Echoes

Summary:

Written for the DARBB. Vivienne is an awakening vampire, and Cassandra is the last of an alien race, fleeing the destruction of her home. They meet in the mountains.

Notes:

Thanks to magenta and etharei for the beta and for keeping me on track. And to Sydbull for inspiring this fic, and for getting me to consider a pairing I never really had before. :)

Work Text:

The ship is quieter than she thought it would be. She had expected … she’s not sure what she had expected. Some kind of noise, anyway, to indicate their movement through the stars.

Movement is … inadequate, Cassandra thinks, as she stares out at the stars and planets rushing past, as the ship unerringly finds the ancient Pentaghast trade routes that had once sustained her family’s fortunes on Nevarra.

Now … now there is just herself in this too-small ship, hurtling towards Maker-knows-where.

There are small noises - the “shush-shush” susurration of the thrusters as they push the ship - the Seeker - towards whatever its final destination might be.

Nevarra is gone, and Cassandra cannot go back. There is nothing behind her but the burnt-out shell of a planet that could not stand up against its enemies. She sets her jaw and pushes those thoughts out of her head. If she lets herself be overwhelmed by sadness and grief now, the temptation to open the airlock and throw herself out of it will become too tempting.

Her uncle worked hard to get her here, she tells herself as she checks the systems again. They are all automated and are obeying commands that were programmed into it years before.

Cassandra tries not to think of the implications of that, as the ship hurtles along the ancient routes, spinning and spinning in the darkness of space.

 

Vivienne is dreaming. She shifts in the darkness and frowns, but she does not wake. She is aware enough to recognise that she is dreaming - and that it has been a long, long time since she had such awareness - but she does not wake.

She knows that the great Purge is behind her by years, possibly centuries. Her bones know this; it is in their memory. She knows that this means her beloved Bastien is likely dead. She frowns again into the darkness, her body shifting restlessly as the knowledge settles into her bones and her skin.

Something - no, someone - someone is coming. Vivienne can see an impression, like a fleet and flighty spirit weaving in and out of her dream - of black hair and a direct gaze and an unfamiliar but heavily accented voice.

She can feel herself sinking again, sinking into the darkness, and she fights, briefly - she almost had a name …

The dream spirals away and Vivienne sighs, no longer dreaming but still restless in her centuries-long sleep.

Someone is coming …

 

Cassandra looks at the map in front of her, a holo-projection spit out by the ship’s nav-systems. She studies the world intently, framing the names of unfamiliar territories with her mouth even as she traces them with her fingertips, highlighting first one area, then another, then another … a name catches her attention and she taps on it twice, bringing it to the fore.

“Skyhold,” she murmurs to herself, studying the available information. It is an ancient fortress, now pressed into service as a scientific research station. It’s isolated; high up in what looks like a range of snowbound mountains. But it is home, as far as Cassandra can tell, to many different disciplines. Including … she taps the screen again gently. Including the study of potential extraterrestial life.

She transfers the Skyhold data to her own hand-held nav, and takes it back to her small bunk, curling up as she begins to read.

The planet the ship is heading for is a blue and green ball hanging in the depths of space. Cassandra reads as much as she can about the different countries and cities, studying and memorising. She progammes the ship for landfall as near as Skyhold as she can manage - a flat plain near to the mountain range.

For the rest, she will have to rely on her own will and tenacity.

For the first time since her flight from her dead homeworld, Cassandra feels the rocky and dangerous tendrils of hope.

The planet is still several days away, but Cassandra begins making preparations anyway. It will not do to be caught unawares again.

 

Vivienne is dreaming again. She has surfaced from the darkness enough to see in her dream the same black hair and direct gaze. In her sleep, she reaches out a hand, as though she can touch the person on the other side of the dreamscape she now inhabits.

But as much as the Fade was once hers to bend to her considerable will, now it merely shows her shadows of things that may or may not come to pass.

She sees the face of the person - a woman Vivienne realises in her dream - framing a word, and she holds on to it so that she might remember it when she eventually wakes up.

“Skyhold …” her own mouth frames in unconscious imitation.

In Vivienne’s own time, Skyhold had been a mighty mountain fortress, a buttress against the evils of the world. Now, unknowing years have passed and the Fade offers Vivienne nothing but an echo of memories.

She is left with the impression of the same direct gaze, and of an immovable fortress before the darkness reclaims her.

She does not dream again, but somehow she knows that she will wake up very soon. The knowledge and the hunger of it beat in her bones and on her skin; where she carries her memories of Bastien and of her life before the Purge.

Before Bastien turned her and claimed her for his own. She had been young, but also very much in love and - as foolish as the memories that live in her skin now make her feel as she sleeps - she knows she would not have changed a second of what had happened, even though it has meant sleeping for so many years.

Because now, someone is finally coming who will wake her, and bring her back to life.

The memories in her bones and in her skin seem to sigh and settle at this, as Vivienne herself settles into the darkness, content now not to seek the Fade again.

Content to wait for the woman whose name she does not know, but whose eyes she knows now as well as her own gaze.

The ship is spiralling out of control.

 

Cassandra has buckled herself into the only seat, gripping the armrests. She is not sure what has gone wrong, all she knows is that if she dies, everything about the Nevarran people - their history, their cultures - everything will die with her.

She grips the chair and grits her teeth and waits.

Vivienne stirs. Something - no, the someone in her dreams is coming. But something is wrong … Vivienne frowns in her sleep and whispers “slow down, slow down …”

If the ship does not slow its descent, Vivienne knows in her bones and her blood, it will crash, be destroyed and she will never meet the owner of the black hair and the too-direct gaze.

She cannot waste her dream in such a way. So, in her sleep, she spins a net as fast as she can; working against time and gravity and impossible odds to slow the ship down long enough that it might land safely.

Cassandra feels it; feels when the ship starts to slow its descent. She still grips the arms of the chair and stays in her safety harness, because what if it is her imagination? What if she wants to live so badly, that she is imagining the ship slowing down?

But - she checks the display in front of her. No - it really is slowing down.

She really might - she really might just survive this. She takes a deep breath, and then another one, and braces for impact as best she can.

Vivienne sinks below the surface again, knowing in her bones and blood that she has done all she can, for now. The ship will land near where she rests, although lately, “rests” has not been entirely accurate. Then, she will meet the owner of those direct, grey eyes and she will finally know her.

The ship enters the atmosphere but it neither speeds up nor slows down. It simply … glides. Cassandra has no idea what is happening, whether there is someone looking out for her. She hopes so, because it looks like she might survive this - this headlong flight; this gamble on safety and survival.

The ship comes to rest - and it is not a gentle landing but given that Cassandra expected the ship to fall apart - bouncing and skidding until it is stopped by a large wall of white.

Snow, Cassandra realises after a while, and feels the absurd urge to laugh. This planet, this world, this … Thedas.

It has snow.

 

Vivienne is waking up. She can feel it, bones to blood to skin. It hurts, but she had expected it to hurt. Waking up hurts everywhere. But she needs to wake up, she needs to be awake for the woman with the direct gaze and black hair.

She is safe, Vivienne knows that much. Cradled by the snow, she is safe for now. She knows this as her own body fights to come back from 500 years of slumber. It comes back piece by piece, so slowly, but Vivienne knows that the most important thing right now - in this crucial moment of change - is patience.

Cassandra prepares herself carefully to leave the ship. She puts a Patch on her arm and taps in the conditions outside, waiting patiently as the clothes flow around her. There are sturdy boots, and trousers and tops all made of the same weather-resistant fabric. It’s too warm in the cradle of the ship, but she knows as soon as she steps outside, she will welcome the warmth.

There is a jacket, gloves, and a hat, all of which adjust around her to her own size until everything feels like a comfortable second skin.

She clips a Phase One to each hip, and attaches a Phase Six to the harness on the jacket on her back. Their weight is negligible, but comforting at the same time.

Then, she prepares a pack, attaching another Patch to the wall of her quarters, tapping in what she believes she might need. The pack forms at her feet, and going through it, Cassandra notes rations that can be eaten either hot or cold, a flask of Nevarran tea, a couple of blankets, and a small tent that folds to nearly nothing.

There’s also a pod of Patches, but not all that many, Cassandra notes, so she will have to be careful with how she rations them. She’s delaying now, she knows, which makes her slightly uncomfortable, because it’s not like her to put off facing down any unpleasantness.

She takes a deep breath, shoulders the pack, and takes the remaining intact NavPad.

One more look around - and she presses her palm against the door to activate the opening mechanism.

This - whatever is next - is it.

She may perish in the snow.

She may never get to Skyhold, to the research facility to ask for help.

She is the last of the Nevarrans and the idea that she could be lost on this mountain range on a strange planet … Cassandra shivers. It makes her feel lonely, and the devastation at losing her entire world threatens for a moment to overcome her.

She straightens her shoulders and sets her jaw. She is Cassandra Allegra Portia Filomena Pentaghast, lately of the planet of Nevarra, now … now seeking a new home. She will not give in to despair and grief.

Not until it is safe to do so.

The door opens, and Cassandra steps out into the new world. One step at a time, she tells herself. That’s all I need worry about for now.

As Vivienne wakes up fully, she stretches, raising her arms above her head and reaching her fingertips as far as they will go, doing the same right down to her toes. She sighs as the last vestiges of her long sleep leave her.

She knows, in her blood and bones and skin, how long she has been asleep for, but she tucks it away in her memory for now. For now, she doesn’t need that knowledge as much as she needs to get up, get moving; feed, somehow.

It has been 500 years and she is hungry.

There are beasts in the mountain range she has been sleeping in. She can sense their blood, sluggish and slow with the snow, but sufficient.

Vivienne rises slowly, careful of her body now that she is fully aware. She allows herself a brief thought of her beloved Bastien, then tucks that away. She will mourn him fully when she does not feel so weak.

She is wearing the robes that she was buried in, the material magically enhanced to not decay as she slumbered. They are thin, and somewhat impractical for the world outside, but they will suffice - for now.

Feeding is first. Then finding the woman who has been haunting her dreams lately. Then … well.

Then, Vivienne will just have to see.

She finds a hapless black bear once she ventures out - its winter lair close to her own tomb. It does not wake as Vivienne releases her fangs and feeds; feeling its slow heartbeat become sluggish and then - nothing.

She sits back and sighs, letting the soporific feeling of fullness overtake her for a moment. She could sleep in here, she thinks - in this cave that the unsuspecting bear had chosen to ride out the snow and the cold. It’s bare but almost cosy in its own way.

However, she has things that she needs to do. Feeding is done. Now it is time to find - well, whoever this woman is that Vivienne has been seeing lately. She closes her eyes for a moment, and fixes the image in her head.

She knows where the ship came down - where it crashed. From the cave, she just needs to head straight down, and hopefully whatever is meant to happen next will come about.

 

Cassandra pauses outside the ship, checking her Nav, and breathing in the cold, somewhat thin mountain air. She takes off her pack and fumbles for a Patch, carefully adhering it to the side of her neck. After a few seconds, the thin air becomes easier to breathe, and she is able to take in a deep breath.

By the time the Patch runs down, she should have adjusted.

She lingers, for a moment. The ship is her last link to her homeworld; the last vestiges of Nevarra. There is only her now - Cassandra Pentaghast. Former Seeker, brash and sometimes impulsive warrior and now - explorer. She feels a shiver go through her then, that has nothing to do with the cold, or the thin air.

Explorer. Growing up, reading stories about men and women who struck out to explore new worlds … these had fired Cassandra’s imagination; appealed to the romance in her nature.

The reality - the reality is very different. Sadder, for one, as there is no one back on Nevarra - there is no Nevarra for her to send tales back to.

Her stories now - whatever stories she may find on Thedas - are all her own.

The loneliness is overwhelming and Cassandra has to swallow back a sudden lump in her throat. Her eyes burn with unshed tears and she takes a deep breath.

“You can stay here by the ship, Cassandra,” she says to herself, finding the sound of her own voice oddly comforting in the echoing loneliness of the snow, “and die, and your trip will be for nothing. Or. Or you can try and find a path. Find a way to Skyhold. And then - “

And then, she has no idea.

“One step at a time, Cassandra,” she says softly, finding comfort in her own voice again.

“Just - one step.”

She takes another deep breath, shoulders the pack again, and steps away from the ship.

There is a path not far from where her ship came down. Little more than a track, but it is not covered in snow at least. Probably some kind of animal trail, Cassandra thinks as she checks her Nav one more time before heading in the direction of the path. But from what she can tell, the path she is heading for leads upwards - towards Skyhold.

She takes another step, and another, and soon she is ascending the mountain, picking her way carefully up the narrow path.

She does not allow herself to speculate on what she might find at the top - if she gets that far. Instead, Cassandra concentrates on the path just in front of her. One foot, then the other, then the other … it’s hypnotising and calming in its own way.

For the moment, she does not have to struggle for survival. Her clothes have adjusted to the climate and to her own needs and she is comfortable in them. She is armed, and she has supplies. She could - if necessary - survive out here on her own for quite some time.

She hopes, however, that she does not have to.

There is a path, Vivienne sees as she leaves the bear’s cave. Faint, but there. She can smell other animals close by - some kind of mountainous ram or goat, that does not hibernate during winter. She follows the path with her eyes as far as she can see, then turns to study the top of the mountain.

Her eyes are keen, and sharpened now with the feeding. There is something up there … some kind of fortress? Vivienne frowns as something rattles loose in her memory. Something had stood up there even in her own time - something she had seen in her dreams lately … Sky - something.

Skyhold. Yes. It was an ancient elven fortress of some kind, though Maker knows what it might be used for now.

But. It is not Skyhold that occupies Vivienne’s mind, but the woman from her dreams. She feels an overwhelming need to find her. And then - well, Vivienne thinks as she picks her way carefully to the path and starts heading downward - then, we will see.

The path is narrow and steep, and some of it is still buried under the snow. But Cassandra is patient and well-prepared and she persists, climbing up and up and -

“Well, my dear, it has taken you long enough.”

Cassandra starts, badly but it’s barely a thought for her to take out her Phase One and point it at the woman ahead of her on the path. She is … striking, a part of Cassandra’s brain supplies. Her dark skin almost glows against the brightness of the snow, and her presence is undeniable.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

The woman carefully moves down the path with the kind of grace that Cassandra can only envy and puts herself right in front of Cassandra’s Phase.

“My name is Vivienne, or Madame de Fer, if you are feeling particularly formal. As for what I am doing here… for now, let it suffice to say I have been waiting for you.”

“Waiting for me? Why? What is it you want with me? How could you have been waiting for me? I do not understand.”

Vivienne sighs and gently places the tip of one finger on the end of the Phase, pushing it aside.

“That - whatever kind of weapon that is, will do you no good, my dear. And - as hard as it is for you to believe right now, I am not here to hurt you. It is difficult to explain but … you woke me up, in a way.”

Cassandra hesitates, her instincts at war with each other. She feels the need to fight; to defend herself but at the same time … an older instinct rises up; one that whispers to her that this woman - this … Vivienne is telling the truth.

She holsters her Phase One and says, “All right, say for now - just for now - that I believe you. What is next?”

“You have come a very long way,” Vivienne says softly, almost to herself. “I picked that up when I saw you in my dreams, but -”

“In your dreams? What are you talking about?”

Vivienne laughs softly and shakes her head. “So impulsive. All right. You are going up the mountain yes?”

“I - yes. I am trying to reach a place called Skyhold. I do not know if you know of it. It is a science research facility and I am hoping that they can help me.”

Vivienne nods, like she had been expecting Cassandra to say just what she said. “Skyhold … yes. In my time, it was a fortress. I suppose that enough time has passed that a research facility makes sense.”

Cassandra frowns, confused suddenly. “What do you mean, in your time? You appear to be younger than I.”

Vivienne smiles and Cassandra feels oddly pleased; oddly warmed by Vivienne’s regard, which is just.

Ridiculous.

Cassandra gives herself a mental shake and shifts her feet, waiting.

“All in good time, my dear. I shall tell you everything that I know - everything that I possibly can. But first, perhaps, we should seek some kind of shelter? I believe night is closing in. I am not in need of such things, but I believe that you are.”

“More mysteries,” Cassandra mutters, but she has to - grudgingly - admit that Vivienne is right. She will need shelter, and soon.

“I have a tent that I can put up, in my pack,” she says. “I just need to find some kind of clearing.”

“Oh, I believe that I can help you with that, though it will take a little bit longer without my staff. Let’s see … that belt of trees over there? You would be protected from the wind and I can clear the snow for you.”

Cassandra hesitates, confused again and she can feel anger rising with the confusion. She clenches her jaw and takes a breath, refusing to let her emotions have mastery over her.

“I .. do not understand what you mean.”

“Magic, my dear. I am talking about magic. Or do you not have such things where you are from?”

Magic. Of course. Cassandra sighs and lets her Seeker senses curl outwards. The only excuse she has for missing that Vivienne is a mage, is how tired she is and how far she has come.

“Yes, we have magic. I am sorry. You are not seeing me at my best.”

Vivienne laughs lightly and heads towards the small belt of bare trees she had pointed out earlier.

“Given the journey that I believe you have made, my dear, I think that I am. You are clearly a woman of great strength and perhaps even greater depths. Do not sell yourself short on that count.”

Cassandra doesn’t know what to say to this but she can feel a flush forming on her face that has nothing to do with her exertions in the thin mountain air.

“I … thank you, Madame de Fer. That - is very kind of you.”

“Please. Call me Vivienne.”

“Vivienne, then. I am Cassandra.”

“Cassandra. It is delightful to finally meet you.”

The dreams, Cassandra thinks. How can this woman - this Vivienne who is so self-assured she makes Cassandra feel like a callow youth all over again - have been dreaming of Cassandra before Cassandra even landed?

And why?

She sighs and lets some of the fatigue she has been holding off through sheer willpower seep into her bones. She is sure - though she could not say how - that she can trust Vivienne. And if Cassandra cannot trust her own instincts in this hostile and cold landscape, then what is she left with?

She watches quietly as Vivienne casts a muted flame spell, enough to melt the snow under the bare trees, but not enough to set them alight.

It warms the clearing briefly and Cassandra is able to set up her tent in relative comfort.

She offers Vivienne some of her rations but Vivienne declines with an elegant wave of her hand.

“No thank you, my dear. My own diet is very … specific. Sleep now. I will explain in the morning, I promise. Good night, Cassandra. Maker be with you.”

Cassandra finishes her mug of tea, and stifles a yawn.

“Good night Vivienne. And - thank you.”

“Sleep. We will talk more in the morning.”

Cassandra is vaguely aware of Vivienne moving around their small camp, but she is so bone-tired that she simply drifts off as soon as she lies down.

Whatever might be happening with this strange woman, Cassandra feels oddly safe with her. Almost … at peace.

She wakes up after an unexpectedly dreamless sleep to find Vivienne has a small fire going and what smells like some kind of meat roasting on a makeshift spit.

“I … “ Cassandra has no idea what she was going to say, because suddenly her stomach gives a loud rumble as the smell of the meat reaches her senses.

Vivienne smiles. “I am not a skilled hunter or camp-maker my dear, but I thought - when I saw a couple of hares when I went to feed, I thought perhaps you might appreciate some meat to vary your diet, so ..” Vivienne indicates the meat - the hares over the fire.

“It was a messy business, and I’m not sure how much meat is actually left, given that I have never actually … skinned anything before.”

Cassandra sits down in the small clearing, which she notices is warm and dry and carefully turns one of the hares, her stomach growling again as a sizzle of fat drips into the fire.

“I … thank you. It smells delicious. Will you not - share?”

Vivienne sits then, too, elegantly crossing her legs and letting out a small sigh.

“I would, my dear, were I still human. That is … part of what I should tell you, before we go any further.”

Cassandra carefully pulls the spit off the fire and begins picking the meat off. She sighs in contentment as she begins to eat. The ship rations are all well and good, and perfectly balanced but sometimes, she admits to herself, sometimes she just needs the simple pleasure of roasted meat, however it comes about.

“You said yesterday that you had dreamed of me before I landed. How is that possible? How can you dream of someone before you even meet them?”

Vivienne frowns into the fire at that and sighs. “To be honest, I am not certain. Let me tell you my story and perhaps some of it will become clear.”

Cassandra nods and picks another piece of meat off the skewer, carefully licking the dripping fat from her fingers as she does so, determined not to waste any of it.

Vivienne regards her in silence for a moment and Cassandra wonders if she has somehow caused offence - Vivienne’s speech and mannerisms are those of a great and noble lady, and seeing someone lick their fingers like that … Cassandra stops and feels her face flush.

But.. Vivienne’s eyes are watching her lick her fingers yes, but not in a manner that suggests censure or judgement. If Cassandra did not know better she would say - she feels herself flush again, for a different reason.

She fumbles for the flask in her pack and pours herself the remaining tea, which is still hot, though now very strong.

“I, um, yes. I would very much like to hear your story, Vivienne.”

“There are certain things … I must ask you to suspend any disbelief until I am done. Is that acceptable”

Cassandra laughs, softly. “I travelled here across countless galaxies from a world that was destroyed by an asteroid storm. You - have magic, yes? I think that you can say anything to me, and you can be rest assured I will not be sceptical.”

Vivienne bows her head slightly and smiles. “Thank you, my dear. I know that we only met yesterday, but your faith in me already gives me hope. I will try to keep this as short as I can.”

“We start 500 years ago with what became known as the Great Purge. Vampires - my kind - were much more plentiful then. And, of course, when you have one group of people that is much more plentiful than another, and they have certain abilities and certain … needs. Well.

“I don’t know if you know what vampires are, or if you had anything like it on your own world, but essentially we are … or were - I don’t know if there are any others in this time - long-lived blood-drinkers.

“As you can imagine, my dear, we made the rest of the human population … wary. There was a mage who specialised in a branch of magic - a specific branch of blood magic - and he found a way to taint human blood so that it became poisonous to us. It did not affect the humans at all, but vampires … we began dying in great numbers until we realised what was happening.

“By then - by then the Great Purge was all but over, and we - as a species - were nearly spent. My - my love, Bastien, found a way to put me to sleep to keep me safe. We travelled from Orlais to this mountain range in secret.

“Bastien … I had managed to stay the effects of the Purge but I could not - I could not save him. He sent me underground to sleep, until - until it was safe. And then … the next thing I remember, my dear - is you.”

“In your dreams,” Cassandra says softly, feeling the peace of the surrounding forest and the warmth of their small clearing like a soft suspension from reality.

“Yes. In my dreams. I did not know your name, who you were, anything really. But I knew - I knew that you were heading straight for me.”

“That it was finally time for me to wake up.”

Cassandra is quiet, letting Vivienne’s story sink in properly.

“So - you really have no reason to trust people - humans, I mean. And yet, here you are, with me. Because of your dream?”

Vivienne stares into the fire for a moment, and Cassandra lets the silence cover them both.

“Yes, I think because of my dream. I … I cannot explain it any better than that, I am sorry. I just … knew. Knew that I could trust you, I think. Knew that you would be important - to me, if not anyone else.”

Cassandra blinks as she stares into the fire. “That … is a lot, but thank you for telling me. Shall we -\ pack up the camp and move on? Skyhold is still several days’ walk from here.”

Vivienne helps Cassandra strike the small camp and pack everything up. She finds the path again easily and they begin walking up the mountain again in comfortable silence.

Cassandra checks her NavPad once in awhile and Vivienne looks around, curious about the scenery around them.

“So my dear - you know my life story. Or, the part of it that led me to you, at least. May I ask - what is yours?”

Cassandra pauses and tips her head back, contemplating how much of the mountain there is left to climb.

“Of course. We should stop for the night anyway. It will be dark soon.”

Vivienne finds another small clearing and creates a fire while Cassandra sets up her tent and fishes in her pack for rations. She drinks some of the tea from her flask and lets it warm up her insides.

Her clothes are calibrated for the conditions on the mountain, but she is still feeling the cold somewhat.

“My homeworld …” she begins, and then falters, staring into the flickering flames. She tries to gather her thoughts but finds them slipping around, the grief she has been holding at bay threatening to overtake her words.

“I am sorry - I have not thought about it much. I - could not. I am - the last of my kind. The last of the Nevarrans and I - it is a hard, hard thing.”

She feels light pressure against her gloved hand then and looks down to see Vivienne’s hand covering her own.

“I am sorry, my dear. I did not intend to upset you. If you do not wish to tell me then, I … I understand.”

Cassandra takes a deep breath then, and - risking much, she knows but some … impulse or instinct drives her forward - turns her hand over under Vivienne’s and shifts it so that she can wind their fingers together. She glances up to gauge Vivienne’s reaction, and sees a small, warm smile on her face, and the firelight reflected back in her dark eyes.

Vivienne tightens her grip and Cassandra can draw strength from that. She has been alone for so very long …

“No - I - I need to talk about this, I think. It - I cannot carry it around alone forever.”

“Take your time, my dear. I will listen.”

Cassandra nods and squeezes Vivienne’s hand. She takes a deep breath and starts over.

“Nevarra was … I do not know how to tell you. I am not a wordsmith of any kind. I was a warrior, working for a group within the military called the Seekers of Truth. We were … elite. A small group, close. We lived and trained together and took on missions for the Nevarran royal family.

“I … loved it. My family - the Pentaghasts are - were - a large clan but not close. I found family and purpose with the Seekers. We were the ones … we found out about the asteroid storm first. We went to Nevarra City to warn the king, but he refused to believe us and discredited our order.

“We were disgraced and cast out. I .. went to my uncle - the head of my family. He. He did believe me. He said he would prepare a ship, and that I was to take it - the only one he could find, was a single-passenger ship, but the Pentaghasts also had ancient trade route treaties which meant that all that had to be done was for the route to be pre-programmed.

“I left - the asteroids were coming as I left. So many and the noise. I thought, at first, that I would be caught up in the storm as well, but I … was lucky and my ship was thrown clear of the atmosphere.

“I looked back - once - but all I could see … all I could see was flames. My whole family, my Seekers, everyone but me … gone.”

Cassandra swallows hard against the lump in her throat, and blinks away the stinging tears in her eyes.

Vivienne says nothing, but she tightens her grip for a moment and it grounds Cassandra in the present again; where she is and where she needs to be going. She is also, suddenly, exhausted.

“I believe I will … turn in for the night. Thank you Vivienne, for listening to me.”

Vivienne rises the same time as Cassandra, a graceful flow of limbs that Cassandra knows she could never hope to imitate. She focuses on it for a moment; giving herself something else to think about.

Vivienne leans forward, and brushes her lips against Cassandra’s cheek. They are cool against her flushed skin and Cassandra sighs, closing her eyes and taking in the comfort of the gesture.

“We are both the last of our kind, my dear. Perhaps that is why I dreamed of you. Something in your grief called out to mine.”

“Perhaps, yes. I cannot say. But I can say - I am glad that your dream meant that you came looking for me. This journey is much easier to make with - with you by my side.”

“Indeed. Now, go and get some sleep, my dear. We still have quite the journey ahead of us.”

The next few days pass in a blur of snow, and walking; fireside talking and easy companionship. Vivienne is surprised, her dreams aside, to find how much she is enjoying Cassandra’s company.

She is .. attractive, yes, in a very straightforward way. She is honest to a fault, and brave. A true warrior, Vivienne thinks as they pick their way up the last of the trail towards Skyhold.

Cassandra stops, and Vivienne stops beside her. There is a gate, and what looks like a long bridge beyond that.

“Skyhold,” Cassandra says softly, even as she reaches out her hand. Vivienne takes it, winding their fingers together and gripping tight.

“Yes, my dear. We are here. I am ready when you are.”