Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Fandom:
Character:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Series:
Part 5 of New Kirkwall (Modern AU) , Part 8 of Cover Your Eyes - Part 1 Ordered
Collections:
Cover Your Eyes - Part 1
Stats:
Published:
2013-05-29
Words:
1,349
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
1
Hits:
143

Down the Rabbit Hole

Summary:

About ten years prior to the current timeline, there was an event called The Panic in southern Ferelden. The Chantry claims it was an instance of mass hysteria and enforced this view on the survivors in refugee camps set up by their peacekeepers. Lils and Laica and her siblings were among the refugees.
Since then, Lils has been trying to figure out why the Chantry insisted nothing happened. This is a peek in her head while she thinks about that and some new information she’s come across recently.

Work Text:

 

The single naked bulb cast a harsh light on the concrete walls of the storage unit stacked with crates of papers and clippings, old books in languages that no one even remembered, all manner of flotsam that its owner had somehow acquired. Most of it was junk by the look of it, tarnished bits of metal, broken pieces of wood, scraps of paper, pebbles, incomprehensible notes.

Said owner was sprawled on her stomach in the middle of it, her pen flying over notecards. She scribbled furiously, her pigtails more uneven than usual. Cards and print outs fanned in front of her along with a worn free copy of the Chant.

L1 & L2 & B
W - Y
L - N
P - Y
D - Y

Lils always started with the three of them. Herself, Laica, and Basha. It was what she knew. They heard the whispers. They learned to fight them, but some people hadn’t. Some people turned into monsters. Laica’s Da had turned into a monster and burned her mother to death. That’s where the web of scars on Laica’s back came from. That was real. She knew that was real, and you had to start from what you knew was real.

K1
W - Y
L - Y, 8 years, not current
P - N
D - Y

At least, she didn’t think it was current. She didn’t show any signs of it. How long had it been since Kathil had used lyrium? She’d never asked. She didn’t really want to know. Kathil was the first person she knew of that hadn’t been around Lothering that heard the whispers. She’d been in Amaranthine for the Panic.

Sodding Amaranthine. They’d all heard things at the Howe estate. She wished that wasn’t real. She wished she hadn’t recognized what Kathil meant when she talked about how the voices want.

Trust you. To not let me take too much.

She couldn’t think about that right now. It made sense. It was another piece, but she knew the shape of that one. And that was all it was. All it could be.

K2
W - Unknown, assuming N
L - RESISTANT, SURVIVED MASSIVE OVERDOSE
Disappears Disconnects?
P - N
D - N

She couldn’t ask Kahrin if she heard the whispers, but since she’d told her about the disappearing thing, she probably would have mentioned if that was happening too. So no whispers for Kahrin. Hopefully. No, she just fucking disappeared when Lils looked at her sideways. And she didn’t dream. And she’d gotten a stomach ache from fifty grams of lyrium. Fifty. Twenty grams could drop a man Warren’s size, and Kahrin couldn’t be more than half his weight, if that. She’d been in Amaranthine too for the Panic. No, she’d been at school in Wycomme. But she grew up in Amarathine. Was Amaranthine part of this too?

A & J
K1 reports increased W

Lils stared at the note. Where did that one even go? What the fuck did it have to do with anything? But it meant something, she knew it. Like every sodding thing else.

Her pen flew over another card.

C denies existence of W. C hides existence of W. C claims we’re all fucking crazy. Why?

That was the question she and Laica had never been able to answer. Why did was it so important that none of this be real?

Fear. They’re afraid of what you can do.

I can’t do anything.

Her eyes flicked back to the cards. D, dreams. She hadn’t even thought about it until Kahrin said she didn’t dream. Everyone dreamed, didn’t then? But it was weird. And it fit. Somehow it mattered that Kahrin didn’t dream, that she disconnected, that lyrium did nothing to her.

Lyrium. It kept showing up at every point beyond her and Laica and Basha. She’d never taken the stuff, didn’t like what it did to people, but it’d been there in Lothering. It was all over. She knew people that took it, some of them claimed to the hear the voice of the Maker or that they were dragons. It was usually right before they ended up in the hospital or worse. Some people survived but never recovered. It stayed with you, lyrium.

She chewed her lip and slid over to a footlocker at the back of the unit. She still had that book, didn’t she? It had been dry and dull and almost impossible to read with the archaic language, but she wouldn’t have gotten rid of it. It was worth a fortune to the right buyer, and probably her head to a few others. Most of the copies of it had been destroyed. It was right up there with the things the Chantry preferred to claim never existed and never happened.

The History of the Lyrium Trade in Thedas

In it, it claimed that the Chantry had controlled the lyrium trade for ages, back as far as the Chantry existed. During that time, lyrium smuggling was a capital crime, but a lot of things were capital crimes. Dwarves mined the shit and sold it to the Chantry, who …and this was the bit where it got really weird, apparently dosed their army with it.

Lils scratched her head. Maybe that was a mistranslation. Why in the Void would anyone feed lyrium to people with swords? And there was an increase in demand whenever the templars, that was their army, did something called the “Rite of Annulment”. That apparently happened about every twenty years or so, but the dates weren’t consistent. Sometimes there were spans of fifty years, and other times, two or three in quick succession. So, not only did the Chantry control the trade, it used lyrium in its rites.

Maybe they wanted to hear the voice of the Maker.

She froze, her breath stuck in her throat. With trembling fingers she rubbed her temples.

I’m not listening to you. I’m not listening. Go away.

But that was what you thought. Mortals claim to hear-

She shook her head sharply and grabbed her phone out of her pocket. Shaking, she shot a text off to Laica. “You busy?”

It was time to go. Time to stop running after things that probably made no difference. Who cared about dusty old books and lyrium and things she couldn’t possibly understand?

You can understand, mortal.

Go sod yourself.

The silence in the little storage unit was so thick that it pressed in on her, and she scrambled to her feet. Lils forced herself to breathe as she packed a few things in her bag and wrapped herself in her coat, fumbling with the zipper. She couldn’t be alone right now. It’d be the same in her apartment or wherever she went.

There is no need to fear me.

How long had it been since she ate? Or slept? Her fingers twitched impatiently over her phone, punching buttons to make sure she hadn’t missed a return text. Nothing. Must be busy.

Lils screwed her eyes shut for a moment and forced herself to take another breath. Kathil wasn’t an option. Not at all.

She pushed out of the storage unit and tried to lock the door. The key refused to cooperate. It couldn’t possibly be her shaking hands causing the problem. She could go to the ship. Z and Bela would be happy to see her, but …no. Z’s knowing looks were too much right now. She jabbed her finger with the key and swore at it. Gritting her teeth, she finally managed to get the unit locked.

She poked at her phone again. No Laica. But there was the last text from Warren. Warren. Yes. Yes, that would work. And he had offered. And he felt really good. Fumbling with her phone, she finally managed to type another message. “Coming up for air. That offer for take-out still good?”

She rubbed her eyes, unable to stop shivering. Music. Music was good too. She dug her earbuds out of her pocket and turned on Laica’s album, the volume high, then headed toward the subway.

Her phone pinged. Warren. He was able to meet her. Thank the sodding Maker.