A cold inquisitor

After Here lies the abyss

War.  Blood magic. Escaping a fucking dragon. Going into the fade, and taking the whole damn crew with. Nightmares. .. sacrifice. Living, and inviting the remaining grey wardens to join the cause, even at risk of being controlled by goddamn Corypheus.  

It had been one hell of the last few days. Bull was having Cassandra beat him with a stick and called it ' fear training', Solas and Dorian were nose deep in books and worry, all her advisors were shaken to their core with the news of whom Evelynn found in the fade. Either the soul or a spirit who took on the form of a dead Andraste.. still, they had saved and lead them to safety. Cole the spirit who had lingered was constantly about and 'helping', and Varric was busy writing countless letters to let those in Kirkwall know where Hawke was headed. " Take care of him for me." Had been the words he used before he departed. That had probably been one of the few good things to have come out of this, Hawke among the others surviving the hell they marched into only to barely come crawling back out on their hands and knees.  

Everyone was dealing with it in some way or other, sighing labored breaths of relief to have lived, only to hang their heads and replay the many, many, many times they almost joined Andraste. 

Evelynn was hardly hanging on anymore, in front of everyone else she merely appeared more lost in thought, quieter than usual. There was no slightly snide comments or straight to the point attitude coming from her. Any other day people would think she was in a better mood or be thankful for such, but not today. People were so wrapped up in their own personal matters to notice the lack of color in her face or the haunted look in her fade green eyes. 

She was grateful for that, more than words could express. 

As soon as she was behind closed doors, she pressed her back against the wooden barrier that cut her off when the rest of those suffering. Slowly she slid until she was sat on the cold floor, almost numb to it all for a moment. But only for a moment. 

She had almost died, she was responsible for so much blood, it may as well have been her that was using blood magic, not the wardens. She never believed she was Andraste sent, but since getting the memories of such back, it made her feel more like her murderer. If she had just.. done more to save the old woman.. No. 

' What happened, happened. She chose to die, so that I could live. Just like Straud died so that the rest of us may.. ' 

The guilt was a constant body, rising higher and higher. No matter how high she craned her neck, sucking in gasps of rationality, the more and more it threatened  to suffocate her. It felt like an endless cycle, one she found herself sucked in faster than she would have thought. suppose Bull was right. " The mind is more fragile than we like to believe."  He was right.  After everything she faced, every time she felt as if she were to drown, there was always something to keep her sanity above the surface. Someone.  

'  Is this survivors guilt, maybe?  Is this what that is supposed to feel like?' She wondered to herself, slowly rising to her feet and taking a few steps forward, with the slightest turn of her head she caught the razor thin glance at herself in a mirror hanging on the wall. 

She looked quiet worn, even after a long bath and a fresh pair of clothes that were neither singed or bloodied, she could still see the destruction it wreaked on her. She was completely white, paler than she had ever been. Almost sickly, even her form seemed to struggle with standing up tall and proud. Her hair had been left undone, messy. Not how she would allow herself to be normally seen by her advisors, much less her inner circle or even her supporters. 

She peered deeper into her reflection. Each second spent like minutes that barely passed. Her world was darkening in the corners of her vision, almost light headed. Her right hand gripped the table in front of her, rattling the various bottles or décor that rested on its surface, but it went by completely unnoticed. Her marked palm traveled up with the intent to move the messy locks from her face, but it balled and shook instead. 

' Everyone is going to die. Everyone is shell shocked, tired, and mourning several of their friends. Andraste died so that you could live, but it seems the fade isn't the only thing staining your hands. How long do you think you have before you lose everything that you've gained?  Before you sacrifice everyone else to their deaths? "  

She could hear those degrading voices, rising from the graves in which she tried to bury them almost a decade ago. It was uncertainty, skepticism, doubt, and a new feeling she had yet to even face. It was her detestable self hatred, denied for years a voice, a place of belonging even in the place where old thoughts were tucked away from herself, but now it finally seemed to give itself all those rights. 

' Look at you, your nobody, but a coward. A murderer. A mage, whom everyone had right to fear, but not for the right reason. They spent so long fearing what you could do, that they never feared your inability to do anything. And that.. is significantly worse than anything you could ever do. ' 

She was shaking harder now, with each insult, the louder the mocking, cold tone spoke to her, the angrier and hotter she felt. Each breath was deep, sucked in with restraint the longer she peered at herself in the mirror, looking into her own eyes, daring the voice to say another word, as if she had any power over it. 

' It started with your inability to save Andraste, then your men.. Who will be next, a dear friend or..' 

" Shut. Up."  

It was a deep growl, one she felt vibrate through her chest. 

' Varric..?'  

The only sound that could be heard after that was the smashing of glass, in her unbridled fury she found her knuckles bloodied and cut, she shattered the mirror and with it, herself. It felt like nothing, she felt like nothing, she had done nothing to stop Corypheus and she had barely done anything to keep the few she could alive and safe. Including the one she was most closest to, Varric.. 

Her anger and path to destruction didn't stop with the mirror, as soon as she had struck the glass her vision had gone dark. She didn't know what happened, but when she began to come to, she felt sore, incredibly sore. She tried to move, but she was restrained, she could hear a voice, a deep, rough and familiar voice.  As soon as she let herself go completely limp, the hold went from almost crushing to careful and she was set to her knees. Her head hurt, her hands hurt, arms.. 

" Evelynn.. are you with me yet?" 

She fully recognized it now, it was Varric. The dwarf was here, standing in front of her, with both his gloved hands holding onto her bloodied ones. 

" I- Weren't you downstairs? What is..?"  

She stopped as she looked around the room, everything.. Everything was damaged. Broken glass on the floor, burned drapes, charred furniture, if it could be broken, it had been. How.. How could she let herself do this? It must have been so damned loud. Looking back from the room to him, the look on his face confirmed it. 

He looked so concerned. He looked scared. For her or for what she did, she was unsure. And that scared her. She felt sick.