Chapter Text
Three damn weeks had passed since the letters appeared. The long weeks of gathering materials, of anxiety and hope. Each of the houses had assigned people to help with the procurement, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And perhaps it was by now, because Rook had shown that it could be done differently. She had given them all hope in difficult times, even though Viago knew that she would simply dismiss it if it was mentioned in her presence.
Lucanis had kept him, and Teia updated: when the dagger had been completed and worked exactly as the Mortalitasi and the Tevinter mage had predicted, and also about the fact that the first rescue attempt had failed because she had not been where they had suspected her to be.
Lucanis’ expression was a mask of bitterness and despair, which he tried to hide, but that did not satisfy Viago. Anger surged within him that he could only partially contain. His rational mind understood that he shouldn’t hold Lucanis accountable; sometimes things were just not that straightforward, yet his irrational self yearned to confront him and erase the emotions from his face. He felt like a stranger to himself.
Now he held a letter in his hand that did not deserve the title of letter. It was simply a short message:
Viago
We returned to Tearstone Island, but she was not there, even where she was captured. I’m sorry.
Lucanis
He emitted a howl that was almost inhuman which called Teia to him. She rushed into the room and looked at him on alert.
“This bastard doesn’t even have the guts to say it into my face!”, Viago shouted beside himself with rage. He crumpled the paper and threw it across the room, but that wasn’t enough. So, he turned to his desk and with a smooth motion swept everything off. He breathed heavily, and the urge to destroy something was nearly overwhelming. He felt tears of rage welling up, so he pressed his tongue firmly against the roof of his mouth to keep them at bay. He would not allow himself to lose control like that ever again.
Teia stepped closer, the letter in her hand and an expression on her lovely face that he found unbearable. Without a word, she glided her hand up his arm to his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Come on, you need to calm down, Vi.”
“How am I supposed to calm down?”, he protested, but Teias grip on his shoulder tightened. She guided him away from his desk to the sofa he sometimes used for short naps since he hardly left the diamond anymore. She forced him to sit down before she also sat down a little way away from him. Then she pulled him back so that his head rested in her lap.
“I don’t have time…”
“Shush.”, she said in a tone that made him do as he was told. However, he adjusted his position to make it at least a little more comfortable. Teia started to brush loose hair from his forehead and softly hum an old Antivan children’s song.
This, along with her gentle touches, caused the anger to slowly fade away, leaving only the worry for Lilya, his Lee. Nevertheless, his rational self regained the upper hand again.
“We’re wasting our time.”, he finally said. This time, Teia did not set him straight. “To stop Elgar’nan, we don’t need Rook. She did what she had to do to get them all ready for battle. Lucanis killed the first God; he will be able to kill the second one too if he manages to retrieve the real dagger.”
“You don’t really believe that Vi.”, she said softly. “Lee is important for morale.”
“We need to act, Teia. We don’t have any more time. We know that he has taken over Minrathous and we know that Solas is there too. We can’t wait any longer and can’t rely on Solas to handle it alone, especially we will also have to stop him.”
“So, you’re saying that Lucanis and the others should give up the search?”, she asked. “After you’ve been busy turning your office into a dump, after you were told they still haven’t found her? I don’t believe you, Vi. I agree that we don’t have much time left, but I also believe we’ll need her. She has shown everyone that anything is possible, without her…”
Viago closed his eyes and saw the images from back then, when she had fought against the two blighted dragons in the Hossberg Wetlands. He had observed her while the ballistae were being prepared. He had not been able to see her face, but her posture radiated unwavering willpower and defiance, and yet he could not get her relieved cry out of his ears when the poisoned bolts hit the two dragons. As if she had not expected him to rush to her aid in person. He had taught her better.
He tried to imagine how she was doing now. Trapped in the fade, with no hope of rescue. It seemed nearly impossible, but he felt certain that she didn’t anticipate anyone making even a single effort to save her.
She knew that saving the world was the top priority. She had made that clear with her letters. They had been farewell messages, although when she wrote them, she had assumed she would truly have breathed her last by the time the letters were delivered.
Teia was right: Lilya had always put the lives of others before her own. She had done this back when he brought her to Salle and had expected the punishment of the Fifth Talon at that time, she had done it during her attack on the Antaam, when she freed Varric and Harding among others, and she had proven it when she faced the dragon in Treviso. This reckless, foolish, brave woman.
“You should be there for the next attempt.”, Teia said softly, continuing to gently brush his hair. “I know you couldn’t forgive yourself for not having tried it yourself. I read the letter you sent her back then. You promised to follow her into the fade, so you should do it.”
Viago was quiet and kept his eyes closed. He fully concentrated on her nearly intolerably soft caresses. They centred him allowing him to think more clearly. She was right. As she had been so often recently. Usually, he was the voice of reason in this relationship, but it was nice that she had taken over this role this time. Sometimes he wondered how he had deserved her.
He opened his eyes and saw her smiling down at him.
“You stubborn, foolish man.”, she said fondly. A tone rarely used but never failed to have its effect. He raised his own hand and let the tips of his forefinger trace over her lower lip.
“When she returns, it will be time for her to come home.”