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You were in the forests with a basket half-full of elfroot when you had a sudden urge to sleep. It was without reason, you knew, because you’d had no less sleep than any other day this week, and yet you felt your eyelids begin to droop.

You shook yourself and carried on, fighting back the creeping exhaustion. It nagged at you, unrelenting even when you sat to rest against a tree. The heaviness worried you. This couldn’t be right.

You stood shakily and made to head back to Haven where you could ask for a healer’s opinion, but then Cole was there.

“Quickly, you need to sleep!” he exclaimed and touched your forehead. Within seconds you’d fallen to the grass, guided gently by the spirit as your eyes closed.

In the Fade, your spirit friends surrounded you urgently. They told you that Duty had watched Max in the Waking World and seen him disappear.

“The magister spelled him and his companion,” Learning said. “They aren’t dead; we would know. But they aren’t alive either.”

“They’ve gone to the future,” you breathed. You started to relax, knowing things would be all right, but Purpose grabbed your hand.

“They’ve been gone for hours now; the herald’s companions have been imprisoned.”

“They… what?” You looked at your friends in horror. “That can’t be right. No.”

Curiosity was wringing his hands nervously, all childlike mischief gone from his elven face for the first time since you’d met him. That more than anything brought things into perspective.

You straightened your back. “I need to get to Redcliffe. This year will have never happened eventually, but it’s very real right now. I have to make it right somehow.”

A world without Max was a scary thought, even ignoring your personal feelings on the matter. Your hand reached for the dragon scale hanging about your neck and you resolved to ignore how your heart ached already. There were important things to do and important people to look after.

“Corypheus will have the Empress assassinated soon,” Learning murmured from your side. “We must act before chaos is upon us.”

“We’ll guard your journey,” Purpose decided firmly. “We can shield you from the worst of the fighting and help you avoid the rifts. Cole will protect you.”

You nodded, looking at the mentioned spirit. He disappeared from the Fade, allowing you to make final arrangements with the others until you too disappeared, waking on the forest floor. He came to you with a bag of supplies in his hands. Checking inside, you saw your journal and your pendant. You mourned for your cittern and the little shakers that the children had made, but knew they were unnecessary.

As the two of you left for Redcliffe, you glanced back and said a silent goodbye. You hoped Marly and Nanin and the kids would be all right. Ladarelan, you knew, was with Belraj who you were sure would take care of the little nug in your absence. Adan and Flissa would be wondering where you were sooner than the rest, but there wasn’t time to leave any kind of note. You simply had to pray they’d survive the dreadful year to come.

You found travelling again to be strange after spending so long sequestered away in Haven. It took nearly two weeks to reach Redcliffe, weaving around rifts and other hostile entities along the way. Cole was supremely helpful, fending off any trouble that you did stumble across, and you were able to keep in contact with the other spirits through him even whilst awake.

When you got closer to the town, you asked him to tell them that it wouldn’t be safe and that they shouldn’t follow any longer. You knew many more rifts would pop up around Redcliffe and there was a large chance that your spirit friends would be torn from the Fade unwillingly and corrupted. Predictably, Learning refused to part from you, though Purpose was able to convince the others to stay away.

At the town gates, Cole slipped you through by making the guards forget and then you were sneaking into the castle through the secret passage, just as Leliana and her scouts had done with Dorian’s help. Cole told you that the magical defences around the castle had been lowered and you wondered if it was ignorance or arrogance that made Alexius feel secure in his victory.

Cole disappeared when you started to hear arguing. It seemed Felix wasn’t at all pleased with his father. They were both in the throne room, a few guards stationed at the doors, but otherwise alone. It was to your advantage.

“This is the only way to save you, Felix!” Alexius despaired.

The younger man shook his head angrily. “You killed Dorian, Father! He was my friend, your protégé!”

The twist of his father’s lips betrayed his mixed feelings and you knew as well as he that Dorian wasn’t dead, but he said nothing of this. He pleaded with his son to understand and, in a way, you understood perfectly. A parent would do anything to save their child, even commit atrocious acts. You knew he likely wasn’t completely convinced by Corypheus’ plans and was going along for the sake of protecting Felix, and you knew he would surrender once Max and Dorian returned from the future in the alternate timeline.

“I’m dying, Father, you have to accept it. I beg of you; abandon this course of action. The Elder One won’t be able to save me.”

You took that wonderful opportunity to slip from between the shadows. “I think I can.”

Alexius whirled to face you, his staff glowing ominously. The guards were around you within moments and you put your hands up calmly, trying to appear neutral.

“Who are you?” Alexius spat.

“I am a servant of the Inquisition,” you said easily, and Felix put a hand on his father’s arm.

“A servant! Guards, take her to the prison cells,” Alexius ordered.

“I can cure your son,” you told him, as a Venatori grasped your shoulder painfully.

The magister’s eyes narrowed and he put a hand up to halt the guard. “My son is perfectly healthy.”

“He’s dying of the taint. With some time and research, I think I can make a remedy.”

“You? A mere servant?” He waved at the guard, who began to pull me roughly away.

Over your shoulder, not even facing him, you called, “Grey Wardens are tainted yet survive. And I know how.”

“… Stop.”

You were turned then and you went willingly, seeing Alexius stare at you. Felix watched on with worry.

“How?”

Your lips smiled slowly. “They drink darkspawn blood along with a special poultice during a ritual.”

“What poultice?”

“I know what’s in it, but I don’t know the ratio of ingredients.”

His face tightened. “And the ritual?”

“I did say I’d need time and more research,” you answered instead.

After a long minute of him studying you, he ordered, “Release her.”

With your body free to move as you wished, you curtsied slowly and carefully. “I will happily find a cure for your son, but I will need help and I would like a reward in return.”

“You will be paid handsomely,” he dismissed before adding coldly, “if you accomplish your task.”

“I do not want money.” You made your shoulders loose and your face amiable. “I want my friends released from your custody.”

“Your friends?” he laughed snidely. “You mean the Inquisition soldiers in my cells? Why would I release those who would oppose me?”

“Because Corypheus won’t save your son,” you replied and immediately the guard had grabbed you again.

“How do you know his name?” Alexius asked in a low voice.

Rather than explaining, you cocked your brow at him. “You know I am right. Your son will die if you trust the Elder One to cure him. He doesn’t care for you or for Felix. He will use you until you are no longer useful, and then he will throw you away.”

His upper lip curled into a snarl but he didn’t dispute your words.

“She’s right, Father,” Felix said quietly. “Please listen. The Inquisition is not our enemy and she is proof.” With a glance in your direction, he leaned into his father’s side. “Let her research, provide her resources; if she succeeds then release her friends. If she doesn’t, then there will be no harm done.”

“The Elder One won’t approve,” Alexius snapped.

“So don’t inform him. This is a family matter,” Felix tried to convince him and something about his words made Alexius’ face soften.

“A family matter,” he murmured. When his gaze moved up to you, he once again waved off the guard and set his eyes on you firmly. “You will find a cure.”

His tone had no compromise in it and so you nodded, curtsying again with the respect he yearned for. As you rose, you said, “I will need the Grand Enchanter.”

“And why is that?”

“She was tainted once and is no longer,” you smiled pleasingly back.

His breath faltered. “What?”

“I don’t believe she knows exactly how, but I will need her help.”

Truly, the reality that she was a former Grey Warden mattered little. You suspected her miraculous cure stemmed from the Architect’s experiments somehow, which was vague and unhelpful. Still, you wished to spare her from the red lyrium, and you had need of her magic. Her relation to the taint was just a useful enticement for Alexius.

With so many facts being thrown in his direction, his desperate hope began to show. “Yes, yes, of course.” He demanded the guard bring Fiona before turning back. “You will be given space to conduct your research and experiments,” he informed you and ordered another guard to make it so.

Felix approached you warily and spoke in a voice hushed enough to escape his father’s attention. “Thank you for this. I don’t believe you can cure me but that you have put even the slightest doubt in his mind about the Elder One is enough. I will ensure that your friends go free.”

You smiled sincerely at him. “Thank you. Do you think I might be able to see them?”

He looked apologetic. “I don’t believe my father will allow it. Perhaps if you are able to prove you’ve made progress in some way, he might be lenient towards visitation.”

You took a deep breath. “That will have to be enough, I suppose.”

You knew Cole would try and keep them safe in the meantime.

Your first meeting with Fiona was in the dingy little office that you’d been given. You weren’t too far from the prison cells if you were correct, though they were guarded by several Venatori. A guard was also stationed outside your office door, likely to keep an eye on you rather than offer assistance.

The Grand Enchanter looked haggard as she stumbled into the room and she was extremely wary of you. Alexius explained what you were here for and that raised her hackles even higher; she didn’t take too fondly to having her past be known. It took many days until she was even somewhat relaxed around you.

It was with her help, and the guidance of Learning when you slept, that your research began. All of your notes, and some diary entries of events, were written in your journal from Max. You already had a good idea as to how you would make the poultice required. You hadn’t mentioned to Alexius that the process would be more involved than a Grey Warden initiation, considering that Felix had already been tainted for many months. He grew weaker each day and you were made to visit his room with a guard rather than have him visit your office.

After four months, you had created a poultice like those that the Grey Warden’s drank. It had taken time and effort to even procure the ingredients, let alone establish the proper ratio. In that time, Empress Celine had been assassinated and red lyrium had begun to grow more abundant. You suspected Alexius had been ordered by Corypheus to encourage the growth within the castle itself.

You had to consciously ignore the screams of tortured prisoners and hope endlessly that Max’s companions weren’t harmed. You knew Leliana hadn’t been experimented on yet and you were trying to make enough progress that doing so wouldn’t seem a necessary concept to Alexius.

When your tincture allowed Felix to move from his bed for over two hours at a time, Alexius had looked at you with such joyful devastation. In his father’s euphoria, Felix tried to convince him that you deserved to see your friends. Alexius surprisingly agreed, though you were still under guard.

You made your way to the cells in silence. The red lyrium hadn’t developed terribly far in the upper castle, but down in the dungeons it was clear it had been made to fester more rapidly. Your steps quickened until the guard behind you coughed loudly in reprimand.

You’d been only a little surprised when Max had decided to take one more companion with him than had been possible in the game itself. It did make you wonder how Josephine and Cullen were handling this situation nearly alone.

Small little crystals of red lyrium were forming along the walls and in some of the cells. You flinched away from it. Varric spotted you first and shot to his feet. “Poppy, what are you doing here?”

At his exclamation, Cassandra and Solas ventured closer to their cell bars. You could feel the latter staring at you closely.

You managed to smile at the dwarf. “I’m going to find a cure for the taint.”

“Andraste’s ass,” he swore.

“You are helping Alexius,” Cassandra put together angrily.

“If I am able to help Felix, I’ve asked for him to let you all go,” you told her. It didn’t ease her fury.

“You’re crazy. It cannot be done.”

“It could,” Solas voiced and you turned to him finally, seeing his narrowed eyes on you. He looked between you and your guard, before glancing to Cassandra. “It would take immense effort and research but, theoretically, it is possible.”

“You really think he will let us go if you manage it?” she asked you spitefully.

“I have to hope so.”

“Poppy,” Varric was clearly concerned, “how did you get here?”

“I heard about Max,” you said, your throat closing on the name, and Varric’s eyes saddened. “I had to help, however I could.”

“You have no experience in healing,” Solas pointed out.

You knew they would all find your explanation for being here quite odd, but there was little you could do to make it reasonable. Your handy connection to spirits couldn’t be known here in the castle with enemies around you and you certainly wouldn’t be revealing your grand secret, alternate timeline or not.

Your guard grunted behind you and you knew your visit was coming to an end. The three of them were clearly weak from hunger and you could see some bruising along their frames. “Just try not to anger them,” you pleaded quietly. “Keep yourselves as safe as possible, please.”

Varric heaved a sigh. “We’ll try.”

“They don’t always wait for provocation,” Solas noted tensely, glancing at the guard.

You thinned your lips and nodded before being escorted out. One positive thing was the lack of any visible side effects from red lyrium, though you knew with their exposure to it in the cells that it wouldn’t be long.

You felt abysmally far from a breakthrough when Alexius grew impatient. Though you’d clearly allowed his son more time, he wasn’t getting drastically better. You were aware that, despite your efforts, Leliana’s torture had begun in an attempt to find a cure for Felix (without relying on a servant) and, in his father’s fear, you and Fiona were summoned and thrown to the ground before Alexius. Fiona stayed lying crumpled on the floor, but you deigned to sit up on your knees.

The magister sat high on his throne-like chair, Arl Teagan’s chair, and looked down at you both with growing bitterness.

“Why is my son still ill?”

“It will take time –” Fiona tried to say but, at his raised hand, she paused.

“I have given you time! Perhaps you need an incentive,” he sneered.

“Our progress has slowed, I grant you,” you said willingly, “but I guarantee that Corypheus won’t deliver a cure.”

“The Elder One is grateful,” he spat.

You twisted your lips. “Grateful you killed the Herald of Andraste?”

“A mistake,” he corrected sharply.

“Except you didn’t kill him,” you stated. “You banished him through time.”

The magister caught his breath, his eyes wide and fearful. He knew it was the truth.

“Maxwell Trevelyan will return,” you promised him and yourself, not unkindly, “and when he does, your Elder One won’t be the slightest bit pleased.”

With a startled glance at Fiona who frowned in confusion, he ordered a guard to escort her from the room. The other guards were also dismissed and, once you were alone, he sat forward in his chair.

“How do you know of the time magic?” He was clearly nervous.

You raised a brow. “Other than the strange rifts that affected time? I suppose you could say, I know things.”

“You know things?” he repeated distastefully.

You shrugged. “Or I know people who know things. Either way, you know I’m right. When the herald returns, Corypheus won’t care for Felix’s condition. He likely won’t even let him live for your failure.”

“It could be years before that.”

“It could,” you allowed, knowing it would only be several months now. “Are you willing to bet your son’s life on it?”

You were given more time. Fiona continued to throw you distrustful looks. You visited your friends a few more times, each far too short. Felix slowly recovered enough to drop by and chat every day, trying to help.

Alexius had been more gracious of late; he even stopped the experiments on Leliana and other unfortunate souls. You noticed that more and more guards were dismissed from castle duties and being sent elsewhere. Felix told you while Fiona was absent that his father was isolating himself from the more fanatic Corypheus supporters. He was taking your words to heart. There was an unspoken alliance now; if you could cure Felix before Max’s return, Alexius wouldn’t be sticking around.

Cassandra was battered and gasping for breath when you next went down to the prison cells, Varric trying to soothe her. Solas looked up to you sharply when you arrived and relaxed upon seeing no guard behind you. It was the first time you’d been given permission to go alone; after all, there wasn’t much you could do without weapons, magic or the keys.

“Seeker,” you said with shock and rushed to her door.

“I am all right,” she panted, refusing to look at you. She hadn’t warmed to your presence and you understood her caution.

“She hit a guard,” Solas informed you. Your eyes closed in grief at the situation. “Varric has been coughing and she requested more water.”

Quickly, you looked to the dwarf who waved a hand at you in dismissal. Looking at him closer, you realised his brow shone with sweat.

“I will get you and Seeker Pentaghast medicine,” you promised.

“Don’t worry about me, Poppy, I’m just a little under the weather.” But now his condition had been brought to your attention, you realised his voice had an odd twang following it, like someone strumming a low chord.

You stared at him, having known the time would come but still unable to bear seeing it. Your eyes filled with tears. “Varric…”

He tried to say he was fine, one hand still rubbing gently over Cassandra’s hunched back through the bars, but his words were interrupted by vicious coughs. His free hand went to cover his mouth and came back red.

The atmosphere grew grimmer and the tears spilled down your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry I can’t stop this,” you told them all, shakily.

“It’s the damn lyrium, isn’t it?” Varric guessed and cursed at your nod.

“We are all becoming infected,” Solas said, calmer than you thought he should be.

With the gravity of this bearing down upon you and the lack of guards nearby, you made a decision.

“Cole.”

The others were startled by the spirit’s appearance, though Solas glanced between you both with heavy consideration. Cole was clearly uncomfortable; he’d told you long ago how itchy the red lyrium made him feel, how the twisted song was relentless.

“Where did he come from?” Cassandra demanded.

“Cole is a spirit with human form,” you explained quickly. “He has been keeping watch over you since I arrived.”

“Say that first bit again,” Varric eyed him warily.

“You confer with spirits,” Solas remarked.

Frustrated that he chose to focus on that, yet having expected it, you snapped, “Yes, as do you. Cole has made sure none of the guards seriously hurt you, but the red lyrium here drains him and he can’t free you without making Alexius suspicious.”

“It never stops singing,” Cole said quietly. “It’s very loud.”

“He’s an abomination,” Cassandra spat.

“He’s my friend,” you told her firmly. “Look, Fiona and I are still working on a cure for Felix. We’re close, I promise you all. For now, there’s nothing Cole or I can do to get you away from the red lyrium. I just need you all to hold on in the meantime. Cole will provide you regular food and water.”

“Why did you not reveal him before?” Solas inquired.

“There were too many eyes and ears. The patrols have slackened immensely around the castle and this is the first time I’ve been without a guard.” You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “I’m sure my absence will be noted if I stay longer. Please, just keep your heads down. With how weak he is, Cole can’t do much for you except deliver supplies.”

“Where did he go?” Varric looked around, not seeing the spirit anymore.

“He’s still here. Just as he has always been.”

You could hear Cassandra muttering about how unsettling that was, but she was soon drowned out by the sound of boots on stone. You sent the three one last look and left the room before a guard could rebuke you for hovering.

“You told them,” Learning said in surprise that night.

“Only about Cole.”

“Still. You trusted them.”

“They are my friends, whether they realise it or not,” you smiled half-heartedly. “Plus, I wasn’t lying. I believe Fiona and I are close to a cure.”

“I agree. Infusing the poultice with traces of liquid silverite boosted the potency dramatically. I’m glad my information was of use to you.”

Truthfully, this was the first time you’d seen Learning in over a month. The spirit had been journeying around Thedas to speak with older spirits and view memories from eons past, searching for every clue that suggested a cure. The previous visit had given you the concept of cleansing runes grafted into silverite and then melted down. Felix was doing much better; his cheeks were pinker and his eyes less dull.

“You are always helpful,” you told Learning sincerely. “Thank you.”

“Perhaps my newest find will prove even better,” the spirit hoped. At your raised brow, one word was given. “Dragons.”

It seemed so obvious in hindsight. Of all the life on Thedas, dragons had the most resistance. Humans, elves, dwarves and qunari succumbed to it relatively quickly; vegetation had very minimal endurance and other animals died almost immediately, but for dragons, it was a much slower process. The archdemons were heavily influenced and corrupted by holding powerful souls, but regular dragons who encountered the taint were able to live on for hundreds of years by developing cysts around the affected parts.

You had to request and wait for a shipment of dragons’ bones and dragons’ blood. You attempted to create runes on the bones as well as silverite. You swirled in droplets of blood amongst the herbal poultice. After more and more frenzied testing, your hand constantly stretching to hold your dragon scale necklace, you thought you had the answer.

With contained excitement, you knocked on Felix’s door. He allowed your entry with a smile and drank the offered solution. There wasn’t a notable difference in his physique or pallor, though he said he felt lighter. You both agreed for him to take the same tincture two times a day and then checking back in for results.

After a week, Alexius was practically dancing from how healthy Felix seemed. The magister agreed to lighter treatment of your friends and even allowed you to persuade him that they needed to be allocated a different prison. It took all you could not to beam when you heard they’d been relocated to chambers, locked and simple though they were, that hadn’t been exposed to red lyrium.

In the following month, without alerting Alexius lest he misunderstand, you set aside your work on the Blight and instead looked to finding a cure for red lyrium. Fiona, whose fate had been spared of such a devastating illness simply because you’d requested her assistance, was still a little cold and unwilling to trust you, but when you made it clear that you were now focusing on your friends, she spoke up.

“You came to help them.”

You turned to her, confused, your quill limp in your hand. “I’m sorry?”

“All those months ago, when you arrived, I thought you were here on Alexius’ orders. Your goal was to save his son and it seems like you’ve succeeded. I treated you harshly, believing you an enemy, but you’re only here to help your friends.”

Your head titled in question. “I visited them. You knew that.”

“I thought you were spying on them for Alexius, hoping to gain their trust,” she revealed. Her face softened. “I apologise for that. I was too blinded by hatred and fear to really see the truth.”

“It’s all right,” you told her, understanding. You’d been working together for over six months, but all interactions had been professional and somewhat forced by your guards’ supervision. It was easy to see why she wouldn’t believe your good intentions.

“I must ask though: How did you know about my past?” Her expression was still guarded, her eyes fearful. “I haven’t told anyone of what happened. My Grey Warden roots were buried long before I came to Redcliffe.”

Unable to properly answer her but wanting to somehow, you said, “I know all sorts of things I shouldn’t. Don’t worry, nobody else outside this castle knows and I won’t be telling them if we get out of here. Honestly, I wouldn’t have even told Alexius if I didn’t need to convince him I would be able to help Felix.”

She sighed. “It hardly mattered in the end; my past hasn’t been of much help to you and your experiments.”

“You don’t know exactly how you were cured, and I knew that before I came here. I requested your help mainly because I needed magic and I didn’t trust the Venatori.”

Her smile was small and brittle. “Yet you trusted the fool who enslaved every rebel mage in Fereldan.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “I understand that you were desperate. Would I have made the decision to trust Alexius? No. But I wasn’t there, I wasn’t responsible for that many people. I can’t truly judge you for it. Disagree, sure. I’m certain, at least, that you won’t make the same mistake again.”

“Most definitely not,” she said firmly and some of the tension left her shoulders.

In the truce you both forged, you worked tirelessly to reverse the effects of red lyrium. You didn’t have much success, unfortunately.

You decided to suck up your courage and face the wolf. You were sure he knew more about lyrium in general and likely had observations of its scarlet counterpart after months of living near it.

Solas had been placed in the chamber next to Cassandra’s and, as you paced silently along the corridor trying to fortify yourself, you could hear the warrior flinging objects around in her room. You prayed she didn’t aggravate Alexius so much that she was thrown back into a prison cell. The guard stationed to watch this hallway split his attention between eyeing her door with exasperation and watching you with suspicion.

Comparatively, the elf’s abode was so still and silent that your anxiety was only mounting further as you worked up your nerve. In the end, you simply steeled your shoulders and blanked your face, unlocking his door without pause. It had taken you a while to convince Alexius to hand over the key, temporary as it was. You were under strict instructions (threats) to return it to the guard once done and to not allow the prisoner outside of his room. The fact that the walls were coated in anti-magic warding and there were no windows for escape were enough to convince Alexius that you would be unable to sneak Solas out of the castle.

You weren’t entirely sure what to say to the elf. Learning argued that it would be best to simply inquire about red lyrium, implying that the wealth of knowledge he’d gained from being a ‘dreamer’ would have garnered some expertise if not good assumptions toward the topic. You did agree with the spirit, though you were unsure if he would go along with the charade.

He had seemed almost sceptical of you, certainly suspicious, whenever you’d visited them all in the prison; gone was the camaraderie he’d shown you in Haven. (Any hurt at that thought was meticulously hidden away.) You knew you made for a good puzzle, but you were hoping to bypass the song and dance of accusations and revelations in this alternative timeline that would cease to exist.

Learning had been insistent about staying away from him as much as physically possible; concerned by his ability to feel your emotions when he touched you, as well as the power he held, even whilst locked up. It was with this in mind that you entered his room, closing the door behind you as you heard the guard move to stand closer outside.

Solas looked different to the image in your head. He seemed almost frailer, his body thinner and the skin beneath his eyes darker. He had been standing hunched against a wall as if for support until he registered you. Your surprise at his apparent fatigue ( illness, you worried internally) bewildered you enough that when he moved from his position, you couldn’t retreat. 

He was much faster than expected from his overall appearance. He grabbed and pushed you against a wall without pause and all air was forced from your lungs at the impact.

“Why are you here?” he demanded.

“I’ve come to ask for your advice,” you nearly wheezed, though you made sure to glare at him fiercely for the rough handling.

He adamantly shook his head. “Why the Inquisition? Why the Herald?”

“What?” You managed to shove against him enough to loosen pressure on your body, though his hands were still tight on your upper arms. Regaining your breath, you clenched your fists against the stone behind you.

“You placed yourself well, I will admit.” His tone was not flattering. “A servant everyone liked, pretty and coy to catch Trevelyan’s eye. Mysterious enough to draw others in; to entice even me. Very clever.” His words battered you like poison as he practically snarled them. “But I’ve had enough of the façade. Tell me why you infiltrated the Inquisition. Who are you spying for?”

“No one,” you snapped, furious at the accusation from a concealed so-called deity.

“Don’t lie to me. You have a Tevinter magister twisted about your finger as you play with healing, for which you’ve never shown an aptitude before. You had the Herald stringing after you with nought but a few pretty words while the entirety of Haven bowed to your whims.”

“Friends,” you spat at him, “must not be a comprehensible concept to you. And here I thought we’d been getting along so well before this mess happened.”

“A mess that you managed to sculpt to your advantage. You didn’t need to come to Redcliffe; you could have hidden with the rest of the Inquisition. Instead, you are here. Why?”

“I thought to do some good for my friends. Apparently, I have none here.”

There was silence. You both stared at one another, breathing harshly.

“Why did you bother to try? What did you need from me that required my friendship?” he asked in a low voice.

You tightened your jaw. “Companionship. Someone who understood.”

“And what would I understand?” Solas said with distaste.

After a moment, you replied, “Loneliness.” Your throat felt dry and scratchy.

“Loneliness,” he repeated scathingly. “You had the Herald and the rest of Haven. You weren’t alone. You had no need for me or an abandoned nug.”

“They are different things.”

“Perhaps, but what reason would you have to isolate yourself from others if you aren’t a spy?”

“Why did you isolate yourself?” you said in return.

“I didn’t,” he refused.

“You did.”

His face contorted slightly, and he pressed closer to you in anger. “I will ask again. Who do you spy for?”

“No one,” you repeated, frustrated.

“You continue to lie, when the world is in upheaval and you claim that I am your friend yet you stand in my prison…”

One of his hands slipped down your sleeve to grasp your tense fingers and you tried to flinch back.

“You fear me,” he noted, as if surprised. You wondered if he knew that from your expression or the bubble of Fade emotions surrounding you. The fear must have been subtle for him not to see or feel it before, but then, you pondered, he wasn’t the monster under the bed anymore. Not here, where Max didn’t exist, where Corypheus controlled Thedas with an army of demons, where the Fade was ripped to shreds around every corner and red lyrium was growing from the bodies of people still alive.

“You have me pinned to a wall,” you retorted.

“You know there are magic-dampeners in place. There is little I could do to you, refraining from physical brutality.”

“What a comforting thought,” you told him sardonically.

“Why are you afraid?” he pressed.

Your rage boiled over. “You’re the elvhen god, you tell me.”

As soon as you said it, you wished to take it back. But his posture didn’t straighten, and his presence didn’t suddenly loom over you, and you wondered when exactly he’d dropped the pretence because your words only made him still and look at you.

“What are you?” he simply asked.

You laughed at him, somewhat unkindly. “I’m human.”

“No,” he disagreed firmly. “You carry the Fade like a cloak, yet you possess no magic that I can discern. You speak with spirits and know of things you shouldn’t. You know me.”

“I apologise,” you said, not really sorry at all, “for breaking your hypothesis that humans aren’t real or worthy of being called people, but I am as I said. Human.”

“Human,” he sounded out, vaguely disgusted. “You have taunted me for months with knowledge and abilities far beyond you.”

“I’m special,” you grinned without humour.

“That is clear. But why?”

“El'las'in,” you whispered in Elvhen and he went rigid against you. [Great secret.]

“And what secret of yours could be so great?” he rasped.

You suddenly wanted to cry, and a corner of your lips twitched. “Ir enansem,” you said bitterly. [I am blessed.]

He almost bared his teeth at you, “Telharthan.” [I don’t understand.]

You wondered how much it galled him to speak Elvhen to a human, or if he felt any pleasure at all to hear the language aloud. You thanked your lessons with Learning and the other spirits. If you had botched the translation, it would be mortifying. 

“That isn’t why I’m here,” you said, rather than explaining. “Given your… wisdom, I wanted to know if you could tell me anything about red lyrium.”

“And why is that your concern?”

“I want to help you. All of you.”

“How… kind,” he drawled, highly sceptical of you now.

“Look,” you told him firmly, “I came to Redcliffe to help my friends, and yes that includes you. Whether you believe me or not matters little to my cause. Tell me what you know about red lyrium so I can fix this.”

“Fix?” his eyes narrowed. “That implies you are responsible.”

You didn’t answer that. His grip on your hand tightened and you hoped he could feel your remorse about the situation.

“What did you do?” he demanded.

“Nothing,” you replied despondently, truthfully. “But if there had been another way…”

He broke from you violently to turn away. “You are infuriating,” he growled.

You pushed from the wall, glad to be free of his domineering presence. “Will you tell me anything?”

“I have nothing to say,” he said stiffly.

You didn’t believe that for a second, but you knew your visit had done more harm than good and you wished to cut it short now. Moving towards the door, you said over your shoulder, “Max isn’t dead. He will return and prevent all of this, so stay alive until then.”

The twitchy guard waited for you to lock the door behind you before he confiscated the key. You were surprised Solas hadn’t stopped you from leaving but shook the encounter off. This timeline was doomed. You supposed it didn’t matter if he knew the scope of your knowledge, as long as you made sure Max could do what was required. He would be here within four months’ time. You felt your chest ache at that thought and rubbed your hand over it. The dragon scale he’d given you brushed your fingers and you grasped it tight. Soon, you promised yourself.

You still worked on a cure for red lyrium and Fiona still helped you, but your hopes were flagging. You were sure she could see it; her efforts seemed to increase, as if encouraging you to keep going. At night, you were occasionally visited by Learning, who brought snippets of theories for your research.

As Corypheus had summarily encouraged more and more of the Veil to split apart and unleash demons, the Fade had changed too. No longer were dreams separate landscapes unless directly accessed, as they were months previous. Now your dreams mingled with everyone around you, though they at least were none the wiser. You spent your conversations with Learning trying not to stare at the passing faces of those in the castle.

Particularly demoralising was the time you witnessed Cassandra. The Seeker had once always been followed by Faith and yet the spirit had been torn asunder, leaving the woman to listlessly wander in gloom alone, never to know of her incorporeal once friend.

None were aware of their time there like Solas, whose chamber was surrounded by enough magic-dampening that he was currently unable to walk dreams lucidly. Seeing their unconscious thoughts and feelings splayed across their faces felt violating. It was easier to ignore when Learning was around, but the spirit was away more often than not.

When appearing not long after your confrontation with Solas, however, Learning didn’t immediately launch into whatever knowledge they’d gained. It made you pause, wary. Normally they were quick to explain new ideas, knowing it helped you to focus.

“I have… news,” Learning began. Its form was twisting anxiously and you felt your heart plummet through your stomach.

“I’m guessing it’s not good.”

“No.” The spirit quietened. “Curiosity followed you to Redcliffe, against Cole’s instruction. He… changed.”

Breath catching in your throat, you swallowed hard. “Changed how?”

“The red lyrium and the flux of time magic has twisted his purpose. He was forced into the Waking World.”

“No,” you rasped.

“I am sorry,” Learning said softly.

Like a punch to the gut, you doubled over, gasping. Curiosity was innocent. He was your friend. You knew this timeline would be brutal, you knew people would die, but to hear it first-hand… Your friend . Sweet little Curiosity.

You squeezed your eyes shut as Learning hovered around you.

“I can’t do this,” you cried.

“You can,” Learning told you firmly. “You’ve already changed things for the better. When Maxwell returns, this will all go away, but for now; there are people who need your help.”

“How do we know that this timeline ceases to exist when Max leaves?” you asked desperately. “What if this path always happens somewhere and we must continue the journey to our end? We don’t really know how time travel and alternate timelines work.”

You pushed yourself to stand up, to watch the spirit’s indistinct face, truly only a nondescript glow of light rather than a true body. Learning was silent for a moment and you wondered what they were thinking, unable to read their expression when they lacked such features.

“If this timeline carries on,” the spirit eventually decided, “then so do we. Just as we have been. If it does not, we shan’t know either way.”

Tears flowed down your cheeks. That wasn’t the motivational speech you needed, but Learning would never lie to you and you appreciated that. So you sniffled and wiped your face dry and nodded determinedly. You still had work to do.

Over the next couple months, Learning’s support was invaluable. Not only did the spirit still provide important information, but they also kept you going when you felt like giving up. You were growing closer with Fiona and Felix as well, to your surprise. The former Grand Enchanter was often quiet, but she made sure you took your meals and drank enough before headaches set in. Felix was steadily improving with regular doses of his tincture and he was very grateful to you. He dropped by your little office at points, only to spot your notes on red lyrium. It was clear he knew your intentions; he promised to help in any way he could.

With Learning’s help, you found that the cold made red lyrium less aggressive. Felix convinced his father to let you slow its effects, now that you had made some headway. Alexius was reluctant, but his son’s rosy cheeks and bright smile made him crack. With supervision of some guards, you and Fiona went to Varric, Cassandra and Solas.

Varric drawled uneasy jokes as Fiona carefully layered ice magic around the walls of his chamber. (“Trying to freeze me to death, Poppy?”) Cassandra snapped insults at your group, which you tried not to take to heart, and had to be restrained by a guard when Fiona began casting. It was as your little entourage approached Solas’s room that you began to fidget.

You made sure to stay silent, feeling his eyes bore into your head. He was also quiet, only inquiring as to the magic’s purpose once Fiona was done. It was a long process; she had to interlay the spells within the magic dampener wards. You knew it was intricate and were more and more impressed when she finished each time with only tense shoulders from the strain.

Most of the ‘remedies’ for red lyrium were only minor. In the long run, they did very little to slow the parasite, as you’d taken to calling it. Sometimes they were completely useless, but Alexius let you try nonetheless and you could see his loyalties shifting.

Solas tolerated the little experiments easily. He still stared, but refrained from speaking directly to you. Varric was cautious of each cure attempt, even though he agreed to them on the basis that he trusted you. (Or perhaps he knew he was dying, and that this was his only hope.) Cassandra remained argumentative and disagreeable.

It foolishly took you nearly three weeks to realise that it wasn’t simply her distrustful nature; the red lyrium was affecting her faster than it did Varric or Solas. She was more violent and had streaks of paranoia. You concluded that humans were more susceptible to the parasite, which made sense. It was a tainted form of lyrium; dwarfs had a biological resistance to the regular kind, allowing them to mine it safely, and elves had more potential for magic, however latent, especially when that elf was from the days of Elvhenan where lyrium would have been practically pointless. You were unsure how qunari would react and weren’t eager to find out, so that pondering was shelved.

This brainstorm led into another: Red lyrium was a tainted form of regular lyrium.

The concept rolled over in your head a few times. You explained it to Fiona who came to the same idea as you; would your cure for the taint, the cure that was helping Felix, be useful in stemming the advance of this parasite? It also reminded you that both those suffering from the taint and those suffering from red lyrium all heard a ‘song’ of some description. Grey Wardens and darkspawn named this the call of the Old Gods, the archdemon. You weren’t really able to use that link to help with your cure, but it was an interesting train of thought.

Unfortunately, you didn’t get much time to expand on this theory. Alexius called you into the throne room late that very night.

“My spies say the Elder One grows suspicious of me,” he said frantically. Felix stood behind his chair and reached out to lay a hand on his father’s shoulder.

You glanced at the lone guard by the door, who loyally kept his eyes elsewhere. Looking back at Alexius, you put your hands up in a calming motion. “Suspicious how?”

“He’s heard that Felix is better. He plans to come here and demand answers!”

Felix’s gaze met yours and you both nodded. “It’s time, Father,” he said gently.

“What?” Alexius turned to him, anxious.

“We need to leave.”

“But…” The magister seemed torn then sagged in his chair. “Yes. You’re right.” He looked at you. “You have upheld your promise. I shall do the same in return.”

“We should go tonight, if possible,” you suggested, pleased.

“Yes, yes, the sooner the better… But where to go?” he asked, helplessly.

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Give me an hour. I might be able to find a place.”

“How?”

“Just leave it to me. You should prepare everyone to leave as soon as possible.”

“I’ll help them,” Cole appeared beside you. The three others in the room jumped.

“It’s all right,” you told them. “This is my friend Cole, he’s a spirit.”

“A spirit?” Alexius repeated, sounding strangled.

“There’s no time to explain,” you shook your head. “Just know that he’s an ally.”

“Very well,” Felix agreed, and his father followed his lead hesitantly. “Take the guard with you. We’ll sort out everything else.”

You whisked yourself away, guard in tow, hurrying up to where Leliana was being kept. After making sure her torture was stopped and that she was being given regular meals, you had stayed away from thinking of her. Even here in this messy timeline, she frightened you a little. But you had no time for that now. She was an excellent spymaster; she would know of an appropriate hiding place.

Your guard said some words to the soldier outside her room and soon you were given the key. In distant hallways, you could hear many feet running around, preparing to leave the castle. You steeled yourself and entered the room, your guard right behind you.

It was uncertain whether Leliana would attack you; she was much more unpredictable than the other prisoners, and you were glad you had a trained soldier with you. He glared at her over your shoulder.

She was gaunter than she had been, and carried a few more scars, but thankfully her appearance was nothing close to what it might have been had you not intervened. She still watched you with predator-like eyes and you were sure she was angry, so you kept your words short.

“We’re escaping from the Elder One. We need somewhere to hide that’s relatively nearby as we might not have much time before he comes. Do you know of anywhere suitable?”

She laughed. “You are asking for my help? I am a prisoner here.”

“You won’t be for much longer, if we can find somewhere safe to hide.”

“Truly? You think I will simply believe you, after you have colluded with our enemy for months?”

You gritted your teeth. “I am trying to help.”

“I looked into your person at Haven,” she declared, smiling cruelly. “Your history was vague, and I worried about your influence over the herald. Josie told me not to worry so much; she trusted you. I admit, I did relent. Everyone in Haven had so many positive things to say. That was my mistake.” She shook her head. “I wll not make it again. Get out.”

Frustrated, you beckoned to the guard for you both to leave. This wouldn’t work. When the door was once again locked behind you, the guard raised his brows for orders. It struck you how much power you suddenly held. Not wanting to waste it and have everything be for nought, you set off down the corridors again.

“Poppy?” Varric exclaimed. “What now? Another idea?”

You smiled at him. “Not this time, Varric. We’re all leaving.” You quickly explained the situation and he whistled.

“Knew I trusted you for a reason.”

“Well, now I need your help.”

“What is it?” he asked immediately. Your chest felt warm.

“I need Leliana to find us a hideout so we can lay low, but she won’t believe that I’m on her side.”

Varric titled his head. “You’ll need the Seeker to convince her.”

You were afraid of that. “Cassandra isn’t well. The red lyrium is affecting her very badly.”

“Ah shit,” he rubbed a hand over his jaw.

It was clear that the idea of Cassandra’s state pained him. Pursing your lips, you suggested, “She might be more agreeable to you.”

“Me?” he chuckled. “Seeker hates me.”

You gave him a look to show how silly that statement was. “You were her fellow prisoner, her comrade in the field. You both may bicker, but she doesn’t hate you. She’d likely trust you much more than me, in any case.”

He sighed. “Fine, but we better get Chuckles for some backup.”

You ground your teeth but nodded. You knew he was right.

Varric followed you and the guard to Solas’s room. The door opened to find the elf meditating on the floor. He opened his eyes to glance up. The air was tense as it always was between the two of you, but Varric broke it easily, passing the guard to pat the elf’s back companionably.

“Glad you’re okay, Chuckles. Come on, we’re getting out of here.”

Solas stood with a raised eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yep. First we need to wrangle the Seeker though. She’s the only one that Nightingale will trust, and we need a good hideout pronto.”

You were supremely glad you’d brought Varric along for this; he summarised everything so easily and allowed you to hide from Solas’s curiosity. Within minutes, you were all on your way to Cassandra’s room. You let Varric and Solas handle everything, standing back in the hallway with your guard. You knew she would react unfavourably to the sight of either of you.

Even after leaving the room and seeing you both, she only bared her teeth at you. She was definitely more passive with Varric and Solas, enough that you felt able to leave the three alone with the guard to get the information needed from Leliana. You gave specifics to Solas, reluctant as you were to interact with him, while Varric calmed Cassandra.

Before you could separate from them, Solas grabbed your arm. “We will talk.”

You avoided his eyes and only nodded submissively. He released you after a moment and you practically fled.

It seemed that someone had warned Fiona of your leaving; she was quickly packing away poultices and ingredients in your shared little office. You joined her, taking your journal and stroking it once gently before stowing it away. Max would be returning in little over a month, sometime in Harvestmere. You could hardly wait.

The pair of you worked efficiently. Soon everything was in packs and guards had dropped by to carry things. Alexius knew the importance of your research, even if he was mainly concerned for Felix’s health. You followed the guards to the throne room, where everyone had gathered with their own supplies. Relatively little, bar from food and drink, had been stored for the departure. You were without horses or carriages; your journey would be on foot.

You spotted your friends in another corner, surrounded by several guards. Leliana was clearly displeased, but you caught Varric’s eye and he nodded to show that he had gotten the information. Alexius was conversing with two other Venatori. Felix had been listening but joined you when you entered the room.

“We have a location,” he said, relieved. “It will take maybe two days to reach, which is far closer than I’d been hoping.”

“That’s good,” you agreed. “When do we leave?”

“As soon as the rest of our guards return with provisions. It shouldn’t be long now.”

Indeed, it wasn’t. Your group of maybe thirty people trudged outside the castle together. Cole was, as ever, incredibly useful in making any of Corypheus’ spies forget they’d seen us. When we finally found the hideout, an empty cave deep within the Hinterlands, the spirit appeared at your side once again, startling everyone around you.

“I shall let Learning know,” he said and disappeared.

The two days of marching had been tedious, and everyone was on edge. You were hardly united; the Tevinter guards kept eyeing Cassandra and Leliana, who almost growled if any came too close. Alexius receded into himself, letting Felix take charge. He tried to keep peace between everyone and succeeded fairly well, considering nobody had mutinied. Varric helped him, and you assumed the dwarf remembered that Felix hadn’t been at fault for any of this.

The atmosphere was uneasy. You were being studied by both Leliana and Solas, which put your hackles up. The cave was reasonably big at least. Areas were set aside for bedrolls, food, and brewing. There were buckets for toilet breaks that would need to be carried outside of the cave and dumped regularly. All in all, a silent truce was made and everyone cohabited, albeit grudgingly.

One of the first things you did when everyone had properly settled was convene with Fiona for how to establish preventative measures for the red lyrium spread in Varric, Cassandra and Solas. It wouldn’t have been good for anyone if the parasite drove them mad enough to attack. Cassandra in particular was of great concern. A nagging thought in the back of your mind kept springing forward; none of the companions were supposed to show such visible signs of the parasite, outside of a strange edge to their voice and a glow of red emanating from them. What had changed? Was this simply a realistic difference, the same as how Haven was not actually such a small village? You could only hope. At least then you knew major events would still occur; Cassandra would still live to see Max return.

You spoke with Felix, who agreed to have some of the mage guards assist Fiona in spellcasting. He offered his own services, but you didn’t want to risk his health. You left him in the separate little area of the cave with his father, who’d not spoken a word to you since the castle.

The group of mages slowly began covering every wall in a thick layer of ice. Immediately, you could feel the effects seep through your clothes and shivered. It would be a rough environment for those not infected with red lyrium.

“Do you require assistance?” Solas queried from behind you.

Trying not to show your surprise, you shook your head stiffly, avoiding his gaze. “You are still unwell. Rest.”

“You know the depths of my power,” he murmured in your ear.

Shoulders tensing with anger, you whirled round to face him. “Even you cannot beat the taint of red lyrium, fen,” you snapped.

He studied you, but kept his silence when Fiona came to your side. “It is done,” she said, breathing heavily. “The ice should hold.”

“Good,” you replied, turning away from Solas.

“We shall begin laying the wards now.”

You nodded to her. “I will let Felix know.”

Leaving the trickster behind, though his footsteps only followed yours, you made your way to the father and son pair. Alexius was speaking quietly and paused at your approach. Felix gave you a jaded smile.

“Do you need your tonic?” you asked.

“Later,” he waved off. “How are the preparations?”

“Fiona is beginning on the wards and glyphs now,” you told him, eyeing his pale cheeks. He was trying to seem strong, despite his ailment. The journey had been difficult for him.

Luckily, you had enough mixture of the taint cure for Felix to last him several more months. You had been unable to determine whether he would need to take the elixir for his entire life, or whether a certain number of doses would suffice. For now, he would drink it three times a day, every day. You were very aware that if his condition deteriorated then Alexius would rebel against you.

“We need to reach a conclusion on what to do with your friends,” Felix remarked kindly, his eyes sliding past you, likely to Solas who was not far behind your back.

You understood his point. “Leliana should be watched at all times. She hates and distrusts us. Do not underestimate her. I imagine the only thing holding her back thus far has been Cassandra. The Seeker needs constant guarding as well, while we try to prevent the red lyrium overtaking her senses.”

“I have asked the guards to pay close attention to them both,” he responded readily. “If there is anything you and Fiona need for your experiments, let me know.”

“I will set up a station for our things,” you nodded. You looked to Alexius then, where he had been sitting blankly, lost in thoughts. You could only guess at his worries. “I know you were tasked with going back to before the Conclave.”

Your words instantly had his attention. He gaped up at you. “How could you know?”

Rather than answering, you continued, “I know Corypheus wanted you to prevent the herald’s interruption in his plans. I also know that your attempts all failed, though that is obvious with our current situation.” Resignation filtered over his face and he shut his eyes wearily for a moment. “I need the amulet.”

“It doesn’t work!” he growled.

“It stole Max and Dorian from our timeline,” you countered. Solas stepped forward, fixated on you. Your focus remained on Alexius.

“They more likely perished than moved through time,” he laughed bitterly.

“They will be back,” you smiled. “You know this, you believe it too.”

“But when?” he said despairingly. You knew this wasn’t the life he had wished for his son; stuck in a cave, hiding from powerful beings.

Smile fading, you crossed your arms. “Harvestmere.”

Felix frowned. “A month from now. What day?”

“That I do not know. With your help, we could potentially calculate their return,” you suggested, thinly shrouded hope in your voice.

“Of course,” Felix agreed, and his father sighed loudly.

“Very well, but you realise that trying to change anything in regard to the Breach will not work. As you’ve said, I tried.”

“It doesn’t need to change the Breach,” you shook your head, “just this abominable future. It can send Max and Dorian to the time of their departure, to prevent all of this from happening.”

While the two argued in low tones, you went to leave and were blocked by Solas. “Time magic,” he said, his brows lifted. He eyed the Tevinter mages. “Can you truly trust them to help?”

“Can I trust you not to kill me?”

Emotion waved over his face and you didn’t let him speak to you anymore, moving away to unpack your research notes. You found your journal and hugged it briefly. While Learning tried to comfort you in the Fade, the spirit wasn’t always around. It truly helped you to write your thoughts down. It was a lifeline.

With Felix and Alexius to figure out what day you needed to go back to the castle and meet Max, you contemplated how you would explain everything. The journal, you suddenly realised, could be useful for your past self. As long as you had Max promise not to read it, the notes and diary entries inside would be a significant resource. You patted the leather cover with a fond smile, thinking of when Max had given it to you. He would never have known it would hold such secrets of the future and yet it did.

You’d been relatively successful at putting the thought of Max to the back of your mind. Each day was an exercise in patience as the countdown to his return continued, each night a time of agony in which you clutched at your dragon scale necklace. You had put your bedroll with Fiona, who obviously had no other friends here. It wasn’t far from Solas and each evening you glanced his way before sleeping.

The air between you had been simmering. You knew he would corner you soon; he was just biding his time. Unfortunately, you had learnt that without magic-dampening walls containing him, his ability as a ‘dreamer’ had returned, though he was weak from the red lyrium infection. Throughout the journey, Solas had stayed away from you in the Fade. After a few days of resting in the cave, he finally approached.

You sighed, the weight of the world on your shoulders as you turned to face him. If he was surprised by your awareness of him, here where non-dreamers were blissfully ignorant, his face didn’t reveal it.

“So every time I visited you in the Fade, you knew I was there,” he commented, amused.

You pursed your lips at him, resolving to stay silent for now.

He observed you. “Your knowledge is astounding, and though I am sure you will not reveal your source, I still find myself intrigued.”

That word, source, was thinly layered with implication: informant, spy… Outrage sparked at your tongue. “Does it matter?” you demanded.

“Perhaps,” he returned, raising his brows. “How are you blessed?” His features twisted at the term you had used back in Redcliffe.

“I am not here by someone else’s design,” you said, though the sentence felt hollow because in a way you were, weren’t you? One thing was true though: “My purpose is my own, and it is to help people.”

“Like a baby nug companion for someone who was lonely?” he inferred, his tone sharp.

“I didn’t plant Ladarelan in the apothecary, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“But you did plant him in my path. You very specifically placed him into my care.”

“Our care,” you corrected, eyes flinty. “And yes, maybe my intention was to help you, but it was also to help me. What is so strange about that? Everyone commits selfish acts.”

“Your selfish act brought us closer,” he remarked, moving toward you purposely.

“Yes,” you nodded, your features insolent. “As I said, selfish.”

His shoulders straightened even as he leaned into you. Only then realising how near he was, you looked up at him, keeping your expression impassive. “You wanted my company,” he said quietly, “that I can see. Why?”

“Why were you so willing to give it to me?” you asked.

His eyes flitted over your face. “Curiosity, I suppose.” One of his hands trailed over your wrist, the fingers stroking your flesh faintly. “An indulgence,” he murmured.

Recalling his ability to read your emotions through touch, and unsure whether that carried over into the Fade, you stepped back, holding your chin up confidently. Somewhere in this encounter, all of your fear and anxiety about this very exchange had dissipated.

Perhaps it was his tangible lust. Perhaps it was yours.

“What now for us?” you inquired, titling your head at him. “The elvhen god of treachery and a human who knows more than she should. We clearly do not trust each other enough to spill all secrets.”

“It seems you already know of mine,” he narrowed his eyes.

You smiled coyly. “Only some. Do you have an answer to my question?”

“It seems we are at an impasse,” he stated.

“Is this the moment where you decide to kill me?”

Once again, alluding to your hypothetical murder unbalanced him. “Why do you continue to assume that?”

“I am an unknown in your grand plan,” you said almost sarcastically; the plan wasn’t so grand here, in this broken future.

After a moment of staring, his jaw clenched. “You sincerely believe I would kill you, and yet, you called me ‘friend’.”

“I never said the sentiment went both ways,” you countered. “You may consider me your enemy.”

“Are you?” he asked, drawing closer again.

Feeling the burdens piling up again, your hand reached to grasp your dragon scale necklace. “I only wish to help.”

His gaze on your necklace, his face went hard. In an instant he had his fingers around your arms, pulling you to him. You let out a muffled noise as he kissed you. His hold was inescapable but still you wriggled. This was wrong.

Then his tongue ran along your bottom lip before he captured it between his and you felt one of his thighs come to rest between yours, nudging upwards insistently. You shivered, your will to stop evaporating like water as the heat between you rocketed. One of his hands slipped from your arm, sliding down to the curve of your hip where he pressed you down onto his leg. You clasped his shirt tightly, using it to anchor yourself as he moved you.

Dizzy with desire, you were barely able to think. He consumed you like a parched man, a satisfied yet pained groan emanating from his throat. He sucked on your lip relentlessly and you found your tongue stretching to lick along his. At some point your eyes had hooded; when he pulled back, you gazed at him, breathing heavily.

It seemed like he would continue until he stiffened, his hands tightening on your body as he looked over your head.

“Ollie,” Learning commented, and you brushed away his grip, lightheaded. Sense flooded back, along with shame.

“Learning!” You were relieved by the spirit’s appearance and quickly stepped towards them. The spirit was clearly staring disapprovingly at Solas, even without any true facial features. You heard the elf’s knuckles crack as he clenched his fists at the interruption.

You determinedly calmed your heart, ignoring the spectacle you’d just been. Turning back to you, Learning floated closer. “I have news,” they said quietly, and your heart sank, any lingering arousal struck from you.

“Not again,” you despaired, preferring denial.

“Corypheus learned of Alexius’s betrayal,” they explained carefully. “In his anger, he ordered an attack on Haven.”

“Who?” you rasped. Who had you lost?

“Nanin, Marly and Belraj. Many of the other children.”

The spirit continued to list names, but you’d fallen to the ground and they grew silent. Solas crouched beside you and pulled you to his chest. For once you didn’t struggle. You cried loudly as he hushed you, your pain too deep to be hidden away.

“It’s my fault,” you blubbered.

“It is not,” he assured you soothingly.

“No,” the spirit agreed, steel in their voice. You glanced up through bleary vision. “It is your fault.” The blame was aimed at Solas who weathered it without argument, his hand cupping your head to bring you closer to his shoulder.

He pressed a kiss to your hair and stroked your back, but the spirit wasn’t happy.

“Leave us,” they commanded him. “She should be with a friend.”

Within a moment, the spirit had banished him from this section of the Fade. Your tears sputtered to a pause as his embrace disappeared from around you. Breathing deeply, you stood with the strangely substantial support of Learning’s shapeless form. For a few moments, you simply wept. The spirit was a warm glow beside you, like the sun filtering over dark days.

“I’m sorry,” you rubbed your face tiredly, the pain and grief aching even as your eyes dried.

“There is still work to do,” Learning told you tenderly and you nodded, rounding up your strength.

“Thank you for…” you trailed off, shaking your head. “I need to keep my distance from him.”

“He is a distraction,” the spirit remarked. “There will be time for that after. For now, we continue; they will all be safe when we succeed.”

It happened early in the morning. Several of the guards left to hunt as rations had been spread thin, leaving the cave much emptier. The remaining guards sent uneasy looks at Cassandra and Leliana, of which you were sure Varric was well aware as he had taken it upon himself to read aloud to the Seeker. His voice seemed to soothe her and you foolishly relaxed.

Just as Fiona handed you an empty flask, there was a strange growl and the flash of magic. You both spun quickly, watching a mage guard fall and cough for breath while large spikes of ice sprung up dangerously around Cassandra.

“No!” you cried but were pushed back by Solas who took a defensive stance before you.

The guard was dragged backward by another as Leliana threw herself at them furiously, only to be stopped by Solas. She bared her teeth at him, scornfully glancing past his frame at you. The glyph he’d cast at her feet held true though and she was stuck in place.

“What happened?” Felix thundered, louder than you’d ever heard him as he sped into view.

“She grabbed him!” one of the guards yelled, pointing at their gasping friend. “Her eyes were red!”

“Red?” you asked, horrified. Varric’s soft exclamation of ‘Maker’s breath’ turned your attention to the shards of ice. You pushed past Solas quickly, coming to a stop as you spotted ruby blood dripping from one of the spikes.

Fiona quickly dispelled the ice and Solas knelt at Cassandra’s torn open side, his healing magic flooding the cave. You shared a forlorn glance with Varric and you both knew she was already gone. Leliana screamed from her prison as Felix called the guards to order.

“She’s dead,” Solas solemnly confirmed.

“The red lyrium must have overtaken her sense,” Fiona said sadly.

You squeezed your eyes shut, unable to listen. This was your fault. You should have saved her, gotten her away from the red lyrium quicker. When you looked up again, Solas was staring at you knowingly. Her fate would be his and Varric’s one day.

Leliana was livid. She bared her teeth, fingers curling into claws. You didn’t allow yourself to collapse with grief; there was no time. With the spymaster still frozen in place, you told Fiona to find a sleeping draught. Once Leliana was reluctantly unconscious with guards surrounding her, you asked Solas to check on the attacked guard.

Cassandra’s body lay still on the ground. You found yourself unable to peel your eyes from her. A gentle hand touched your back, the brim of a large hat casting shadow over your face. You gave a watery smile to Cole.

“I shall find her final bed,” he offered softly.

Knowing it was his way of saving you from having to bury her, you nodded. Varric had to be coaxed away from the Seeker’s body and you wrapped him in your arms as Cole picked her up easily.

The next few days were difficult. Everyone was shaken, especially Varric. A makeshift prison for Leliana was erected in the side chamber of the cave once Felix had cleared it of his and his father’s belongings. Without a proper door, two guards were stationed at the little entrance and fresh glyphs were laid every few hours as a barrier. Fiona had offered to put a longer-lasting spell down, but you declined; all of the mages were tired. The ice walls did help to quell the red lyrium, but it also slowly sapped the others of their strength.

Guilt ate away at you each time you looked at any of your companions. Solas tried to offer comfort but you turned from him at each attempt. His kiss still seared your lips and muddled your mind. You weren’t sure how to proceed.

One morning you woke to chaos. You flinched back at the sight of Leliana’s thunderous face not two feet from you, hands outstretched murderously. Behind her, guards scrambled, also half asleep. Fiona, laying at your side, reached swiftly for her staff but the spymaster had already been constrained by Cole.

“Forget,” he whispered in her ear and she slumped immediately, her eyes shut.

More alarmingly, Cole also fell to the floor, barely holding her. “Cole?” you called with fear, shuffling to him.

Solas joined you, holding the spirit’s shoulder. “What did you do?” he asked.

“I made her forget,” Cole murmured, his eyes fluttering. “I did too much.”

“What do you mean?” you worried.

“I wanted her to forget her anger. Overflowing, saturated, embroiled.” He shook his head gravely. “I took too much.”

When Leliana awoke hours later, she was very confused and barely registered anyone’s face. Cole was drastically weakened from his efforts. With the Fade ripped open, he’d had less energy even before this; now he could hardly stand. It greatly concerned you. This life wasn’t sustainable. All of your companions were being irrevocably changed and it was your fault; in your bid to save them, you might have made things worse.

Varric offered to watch over Leliana and help her recover some kind of lucidity. He too felt guilty about Cassandra, as she had been under his care and still she had died. His attempts to make amends for it only made your own remorse grow; his blame was misplaced.

You tried to show kindness to the bewildered spymaster. Solas thought you insane.

“She tried to kill you,” he hissed, grasping your arm carefully.

“There are more important things at play,” you reminded him. He had clearly not agreed but let the matter slide, his nostrils flaring.

Felix gave you his and his father’s thorough calculations. They had surmised, with a margin error of seven percent, which day and time that Max and Dorian would return. You already knew the amulet wouldn’t really change their location. You would have to join them in Redcliffe Castle and hope they were there.

It was already likely a trip you’d only make once; when you left the safety of your cave, you were sure to be scouted near the village. If you were lucky and quick, you’d be able to escape back, but it was definite that you couldn’t visit Redcliffe again after that. Corypheus would have his spies watching the route.

After tense negotiations, it was decided that Solas and Fiona would accompany you to meet Max. Felix had argued with his father, wanting to see Dorian again, but Alexius’s desperate plea broke his determination. You silently agreed. If Felix were to be seen by Corypheus’s spies, he would surely be killed. He wasn’t yet strong enough to fight demons.

Varric had outwardly refused to leave Leliana, not willing to allow for more mishaps, and Cole decided to stay with him, too weak to be much help yet still wanting to try. The guards would be remaining to watch over Alexius and his son, as were their orders.

You knew you would be going; it was your idea, your plan. You had to see it through. Solas had offered immediately and, while it made you uncomfortable, you couldn’t easily say no. You had instead asked Fiona to join you, knowing she would be both useful as a travelling companion and a good deterrent to Solas speaking his mind.

Before the three of you left, you gave Varric, Cole and Felix a large hug each. You still weren’t sure if Max returning to the past would erase this world or if the timeline would continue, doomed as it was. This could be your last chance to see them, speak to them, touch them. You were grateful for their friendship. Though you all might not even exist within a few days, you were sad to leave them behind nonetheless.

The journey to the castle was tense, though you blamed that entirely on Solas. Fiona made for a good mediator and shield for his advances, but he didn’t cease in the Fade. Without another cognizant being, he made his desires very clear.

He would suddenly appear behind you, pinning you with his stare when you turned. You would distort the Fade to obscure his way to you and then it became a game, a rare opportunity for mischief and thrills. He would hunt you gleefully each night, the curve of a predatory smile touching his lips. His designation of wolf was supremely apt. Reluctantly, you found you enjoyed the moments when he would come close; his strangely pleased frustration at your evasions licked warmth along your insides. It was unwise, you knew. This infatuation was ridiculous especially when you longed for Max’s presence during your every waking minute.

Bittersweetly, your sleep was nearly always short as inconveniences along the route made you later and later. You grew frantic with each obstacle, whether it be feral animals, new rifts, or treacherous terrain. The path from the cave had drastically changed in the last few weeks.

You pushed on ahead, making it to the castle just in time. There was a sizzle of magic in the air as you entered the stone walls, your eyes peeled for spies, and your heart thumped. They were here, somewhere.

“We’ll need to search the castle,” Fiona frowned. “They could be anywhere.”

Down each corridor, you peeked into every room. The castle was ominously silent save for scurrying rats and water leaks. The red lyrium infestation had intensified enough to give the whole fortress a crimson glow. You glanced back to see the others’ faces lit up like something from a nightmare.

Just then, you heard his voice, and it was like your body was on fire. You rushed through to the next room, leaving Solas and Fiona to follow. You struggled to get your thoughts in order, too frantic to see him. It had been so long…

There.

Max turned at your entrance, surprise and pleasure flooding his face. Your eyes rapidly skimmed over him, reconciling the details with the image in your head. Pain curled at your heart upon realising you’d started to forget the minutia of his appearance. He was so handsome, so sweet, so alive.

You threw yourself at him and he caught you without hesitation, only stumbling when you pressed your lips against his hard. Never had the two of you engaged in such a passionate embrace, but you were desperate and needy and so relieved that he was here. You grasped at his head, forcing his mouth against yours to the point where it was difficult to breathe, yet you couldn’t let go.

“Will I get that welcome too, my dear?” Dorian’s smirk was large enough to hear.

Max gently put you down and separated your lips, and you reluctantly complied. He put a hand to your cheek lightly and stroked at the skin, and only then did you realise you were crying.

“I’ve missed you,” you rasped and the creases of concern in his features deepened.

“How long has it been?” he asked grimly.

“A year,” Solas informed him icily, his eyes burning you. You huddled closer to Max, shame sparking at your fingertips. Max looked at him and Fiona with shock, clearly not expecting their arrival. Fiona was sheepish as she nodded to him, still ashamed of her part in this.

“A year?” Dorian’s eyes widened.

“There’s much to tell you both,” you said, taking Max’s hand. You refused to be parted from him, even if it raised Solas’s hackles.

“Important things first,” Fiona decided briskly, her Orlesian accent thick with emotion. She had believed you when you promised Max would return, but seeing him here in the flesh, an embodiment of hope, was different. You gestured for her to continue. She didn’t bother sugar-coating. “Your real enemy is the Elder One, Corypheus. He was behind the Breach and is the reason for this tragic world. Since you have been gone, he has amassed an army of demons, had the Empress Celene assassinated, and used people to mine red lyrium.”

“What?” Max exclaimed.

Shoulders heavy, you said, “Once infected with red lyrium, it’s a slow process of dying as your very body is essentially replaced by crystal shards.” Unable to resist, you looked at Solas who watched you with dark eyes.

“I am infected,” he announced calmly, ignoring Max’s shock and devastation, “as is Varric. Cassandra too was tainted by it.”

The past tense wasn’t subtle, and Max stiffened. You felt your failure push down at you as you admitted, “She fell to madness and violence first. She was… terminated, for everyone’s safety.”

“Maker,” he swore, and it startled you into flinching. He wasn’t blaming you, yet his anguish ate at your insides.

“We researched and experimented for a cure,” Fiona remarked, gesturing to herself and you. “We found only ways to slow it down. Solas and Varric will succumb to it eventually.”

Far from unsettled at the thought, Solas inclined his head to her. “Aside from the red lyrium, the Fade is also different now. All dreams are shared as one without barriers. The Veil is being torn apart and demons are pouring through the gaps. It is paramount that you close as many rifts as possible upon your return.”

Max could only nod, rendered speechless. His eyes traced over his friend and you knew he was searching for signs of pain or illness. Solas didn’t spare him a closer glance.

“What happened here?” Dorian waved to the castle surrounding you all. “How did you survive?”

You didn’t want to tell them of your exact actions, didn’t want the questions that followed. Your silence made Fiona frown, but Solas smoothed over the topic before she could say anything. “We were prisoners here under Alexius until Ollie was able to negotiate an escape with him. Leliana provided a hideout and we waited until you were likely to return.”

Dorian was intrigued, looking at you. “Alexius went along with it?”

“I convinced him of a better path,” you explained, able to reveal that at least. “One where his son lived and was happy.”

“Felix is alive?” he asked, deeply relieved.

“He wanted to be here now to see you, Dorian,” you assured, smiling, “but his father was too worried about spies on the route.”

“Our truce is perhaps unsteady but enough to stay alive,” Solas added. His jaw clenched and you had an awful feeling when his eyes bore into you insistently. “Now that Leliana will not attack Ollie again, that is.”

“What?” Max exclaimed loudly.

“’Twas nothing,” you backpedalled, glaring at Solas. “We had a misunderstanding and everyone’s tempers were riled. I do not blame her.”

“She nearly killed you,” Solas returned blankly, his fury showing in his clenched fists.

“She had been tortured by Alexius for information,” you told Max quickly. “When Cassandra was killed, she needed to blame someone.”

“Why not blame Alexius?” Dorian pointed out, frowning with as much concern as Max.

You shrugged weakly. “I was simply an easier target.”

Perhaps seeing your discomfort, Fiona put an end to the discussion. “You need to return to the past as soon as possible. Corypheus likely knows of your arrival.”

“It will take me time,” Dorian objected.

“Then get started,” she snapped, eager to have the past fixed. “I will help you with preparations.”

You fished out the amulet from your satchel and handed it to him. “This is what you need, yes?”

He nodded quickly, already muttering incantations under his breath.

Max rubbed a gloved hand up and down your arm. Only then did you comprehend that your teeth were chattering and you could see your breath. The castle was cold without roaring fireplaces. The red lyrium gave off light but no real heat and the nights here were freezing.

“I shall start a fire,” Solas announced sharply. He broke apart a wooden chair and collected the pieces into a pile on the stone floor. Within seconds, it was ablaze. You sighed contently in response and his lips twitched. He brought over another intact chair and placed it near the flames. “Sit,” he insisted.

You stared at him. “I’m fine.”

“You are tired.” Somewhat reluctantly, he glanced at Max. “For months, she has been consumed by worry for the past and the future. Our path back to the castle was also made tedious by setbacks. She needs to rest.”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Max agreed without hesitation, pushing you gently to sit before he gathered another few chairs. He gestured for Solas to join you and the elf perched stiffly on the seat closest to yours. Fiona waved off the invitation to remain with Dorian several steps away, though both mages ventured nearer to the warmth.

As you watched Max pat Dorian on the back encouragingly, you felt a knee brush against yours and swiftly looked at Solas.

“Are you pleased?” he inquired frostily. “Your knight is back.”

“He will be gone soon,” you reminded both Solas and yourself, “and the real world will be restored.”

His brow arched as you said the words pointedly. “Indeed.”

“Then this timeline will cease to exist,” you finished, knowing it might not be the case. Solas shared your doubts, seeming almost haughty.

“And if it does not?”

You looked away from him, shifting your legs apart from his. “I will be alone again.”

“You have never been alone,” he countered fiercely.

“Is everything all right?” Max interrupted, sitting on your other side.

You nodded and pulled his hand onto your lap, smiling brittlely at him. You didn’t wish for him to worry. Solas crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. Clearly sensing the tension, Max didn’t probe further.

The three of you sat in silence for a little while, though you could tell that Max was bursting with questions. Eventually Fiona came to rest, leaving Dorian to work alone. “I can be of little more help to him now,” she said simply, warming her hands at the fire.

You knew it wouldn’t take Dorian long to conjure the portal back, though he was obviously taking time to perfect the spells. At least through your assistance in this timeline, he wouldn’t need to rush. Every noise in the background still made you wary though. You could have been seen entering the castle by spies.

It seemed Solas could hear your thoughts. “We shall have to take a different exit out of the village.”

“Theoretically, we shouldn’t need to,” Fiona corrected him. “Once they go back, we shouldn’t be here at all.”

“I thought none of this will happen if I change it,” Max added, confused.

You squeezed his hand, ignoring Solas’s gaze.

“For you, it will not happen,” Solas remarked wryly. “For us, it may be too late.”

This concept unnerved Max. “That cannot be.”

“You have little say in the matter,” he gritted his teeth. Those steely eyes swept disdainfully over Max, particularly his hand in yours. “If life continues here, we will be the ones to deal with it. You will not even know the outcome.”

A frigid quiet settled over your little group. Fiona was obviously uncertain of the subtext and Max wasn’t fairing much better.

“Fiona, Solas,” you spoke up suddenly, “can you both check that no one has crept up on the castle while we’ve been here?”

Solas very reluctantly conceded, his narrowed gaze darting to Max, and followed Fiona from the room. Dorian glanced up at Max, “This shouldn’t be long now, be ready.”

He nodded, distracted as he stared after Solas, clearly bewildered by the elf’s attitude. He rose to his feet and you stood as well.

“Max,” you squeezed his hand and pulled his attention to you. You kept your voice quiet, not wanting to disturb the others. “Corypheus will not be pleased to hear that Alexius failed. You need to close the Breach soon.”

“Of course,” he agreed easily. “I’ll be happy for it to be over.”

Your heart clenched within your chest and your face must have fallen because his own grew worried. “That won’t be the end,” you told him, regretfully. “Corypheus shan’t stop.”

“Then we will defeat him,” he said, so sure that it would happen.

“You will,” your voice wavered, “but there will be casualties.”

The image of Belraj broken and cold hit you even harder than before. That precious boy was gone here, but with Max, he could still be saved. They could all be saved.

Desperation caught in your throat and you rushed to say, “There will be an attack made on Haven the night you close the Breach. You need to make sure the town is evacuated before then. There is a secret passage in the chantry; have everyone escape through there and make their way up the mountains.”

He frowned, squeezing your hand back. “Ollie, this future won’t come to be. It’s all right.”

“You’re not listening,” you gritted your teeth, fighting for patience. “The night you close the Breach. Corypheus will be furious. He will attack Haven.”

His eyes searched your face and you could see something within him still. He blinked hard. “You know this.”

“Yes,” you nodded emphatically.

“How could you…” he trailed off, then cleared his throat, standing straighter. “How could you know such events will take place?”

Half laughing hysterically, you said, “I know things.” You had wanted to tell Max the truth of your feelings at least for some time, yet had never thought you’d reveal your foreknowledge. But for your friends, dead and buried and forgotten under Haven in this hellish world that was never meant to be, you would break your own vow.

“Have you always known the future?” he asked, and you would have wept at his grief if he didn’t hold your hand even tighter.

Glancing at the whirl of magic Dorian was creating behind him, you knew you didn’t have time to explain properly. “I’ve hidden supplies for the evacuation in the secret passage. You’ll need to distract Corypheus yourself while the others get away, but you will live, I promise you.” It was answer enough for him and he took a deep strained breath. “When you fall, there will be rations and blankets ready and I will be waiting for you with the others.”

“When I fall?” he repeated with confusion, but Solas and Fiona returned from scouting to declare that troops had been seen in the area. Your presence here had not gone unnoticed.

“Dorian, how is it coming?” you called anxiously as the other two mages held sentry at the entrance, staffs at the ready.

“Nearly there!” he shouted, obviously under pressure but you knew he could do it.

Max suddenly pulled you tightly against his chest and you worked your arms around him. He dipped his head to whisper, “I can’t take you with me, can I?”

“I’m already there,” you assured him sadly, trying to be brave. Your tears dampened your cheeks. “That me never thought she would ever be here. When I realised that I had to live out this cursed timeline, I was so scared…” you clutched at the fabric of his jacket and pushed your face against his shoulder, “but I knew you’d come back. If this world keeps going without you, then I’m glad to have you near me now.”

“Even when you have Solas?” he murmured.

You froze and he was the one to pull back. His jacket slipped from your fingertips and you brought them together in front of your sternum anxiously, grasping your dragon scale necklace with both fists. At the corner of your vision, you saw the elf’s ears prick and his head turn slightly. Elven hearing was very good; you imagined elvhen hearing was even better.

Your eyes on Max’s face were wide, mortified. “What?”

“He cares for you,” Max smiled sadly, “and you for him.”

“No,” you tried to deny, even as the memory of lips against yours flared fiercely in your mind, “I love you.”

It was the first time you’d used that word and it clearly shattered his resolve. He crushed you into a fierce kiss not unlike the one you’d planted on him earlier, though only for a moment. “If I am gone forever and you have to live on, be happy with him while you can.”

“Max,” you shook your head.

“Please,” he said firmly, “be happy.”

Your heart shattered further, a different sort of grief overwhelming you. Unable to speak, you nodded shakily, and he seemed satisfied.

“It’s time!” Dorian exclaimed.

Before Max could step away, you opened your satchel and pulled out your journal; the journal he’d gifted you many months ago. “Take this,” you told him quickly. “Give it to the Ollie still in Haven, tell her I wrote all of my notes, but please don’t look inside.” It was the only caveat you had, and you wanted to make sure he understood that.

He took the book with a small smile, recognising it as his fingers stroked along its spine. His temptation was blatant but he stayed resolute, looking up at you. “For you,” he promised, his eyes louder than his words.

Affection poured from you and you hoped he could see it. There was no time for longer goodbyes. He rushed up to Dorian, clutching the journal. Magic swelled like waves around you. In the middle of the whirlpool, he kept his gaze on you and you mouthed the words ‘I love you’ over and over until there was a loud reverberating pop and he was gone.