A cold inquisitor

Wicked Grace and Nightmares

The following night went about as planned. Varric got that game of wicked grace that he wanted, and sure enough he had managed to get Cullen involved. It was a night of laughter, stories, money lost and won, and at some point extreme to where Cullen lost a bet and had to streak across Skyhold as naked as the day he was born. The roaring laughter as everyone watched him sprint out and the jingle of newly filled and pats of empty pockets was the last thing everyone would hear in that room. 

Evelynn found her favorite dwarf happy as he could be by the end of the night, he had a bag full of shiny coins in one hand and his lovely inquisitor in the other. To him, he'd just been allowed to forget all the troubles of his life, shedding the weight of the world from his broad shoulders. He had come out as a newly richer man and as far as he knew, she was all the happier for him. She'd become so good as of recent into slipping behind masks. The inner circle and her closest companion hadn't seen the cracks, but they were there. Nobody so much as blinked when she'd walked out of her quarters that day, none of the inner circle questioned anything as she spoke to them, took care of requests or went with them to take care of their personal matters. There was neither a crack or hair out of place present. 

But it was there. She could feel it. She could see it each time she looked at herself, a villain in every cruel reflective surface that dared her to look at the monster under her skin. She'd scowl and turn her head, but constant reminders were becoming increasingly difficult to quietly tolerate. It made her feel glad she'd never replaced the one she smashed prior, or she'd have flung the damn thing out the window with such passionate vigor it would look almost poetic. 

She could break or turn away as many mirrors as she wanted, but it would only partly solve the problem. She could wear a certain face for hours, she could mock the illusion of contentment and pretend at the war table around her advisors that focus was a simple art to maintain, but she was slipping and she knew it. 

When all was played and done, she had this.. gnawing sense of dread in her chest. Laying down in the softest bed or feeling well secured in strong, warm arms did little to ease it. Something was wrong. Oh what a fool she had been, thinking it would go away with a night of much needed sleep, but she had been wrong. One second she could be perfectly warm and safe, the next she'd be in a hell she didn't recognize. It wasn't like the fade, where spirits roamed or fears scuttled about in horrifying forms. It wasn't even like the mages circle, where she loathed the people around her and the eyes of the chantry that would constantly oversee her every move. 

She was in her childhood home, with the shiny marbled flooring and the overly lavish drapes of red and gold trimming. But it was different. There was warmth, but the heat wasn't from the fire that spit from her palms. All around her and her old home was the warm, humming and dangerously crimson red lyrium. She looked around, seeing as it grew clinging to the walls or crawling through any and all cracks in the floor. 

" What hell is this?"  She whispered to herself, barely audible to her own ears. As if a loud voice would compel the living ore to combust.  She would turn around and see rather than exit, but a large mirror before her, like the ones she'd encountered in her brief time in the fade. But these has red frames and were more cracked, displaying a horrifying spiderweb, each reflecting back pieces of her inner demons.  Some with bright green eyes, others charred and burned. Their images fragmented and their forms never fully revealed, but each one seemed to make up the pieces of repressed guilt and cruelty.  She could hide everything from everyone but herself, her mind was beginning to betray her." No, I have defied such callous lies, I am not going to be privy towards cruel make believe!" 

Her voice would boom, giving the music of red lirium lyrics. No sooner would she scream that the mirror before her would shatter completely, shards falling before her feet to litter across the lyrium infected floor just to reveal a much smaller stature hidden behind it.  Standing before her was a lovely dwarven woman. Her hood was down, showing off her peach skin and rosy cheeks. Her lips the same shade as a cherry blossom. But her eyes, they were no longer a deep blue, but an ugly, infected shade of red.  " Iv been studying the effects of red lyrium. Do you know what the symptoms are on the body?" Her voice war warped, but oddly calm, taking a few steps forwards as Evelynn's took steps back. 

" Desultory! I'm not falling for such a feeble trick!"   She was angry.  She had already dealt with this woman before, she would not allow for her mind give her guilt this form. 

Her hands felt hot. But where there should have been the lick of flames, but when she looked down at them, there was only blood and the sharp, budding heads of the ore growing in her skin. 

" There's nausea, blistering of the skin, even dementia." The form spoke, and as Evelynn's eyes  moved from her palms to look at the dwarf, she could feel their hands grasping onto her wrists, but despite how gentle the hold looked it felt like her nerves were set on fire. Almost like her mark, but it was far more intense, like white hot, searing pain. Veins of red began to stand out, with bright glows that could be seen under the pale skin. " No- This isn-"  She began to protest, but the dwarf intercepted her.  

" But for mages? Incredibly fatal. You could die, just by raw touch alone. It would be a fitting punishment don't you think?" 

Her eyes began to feel hot, her mouth began to taste like copper. She pulled away harshly, bringing her hands to her chest. She wished to scream and shout, to set this entire place on fire and have it crumble around her. Bury her if it would stop this, this.. Hellish part of her mind from attacking her like this.  

It was too late. Before she could get a word out, she could feel the sharp shards tearing from her tongue, building around her teeth and setting root in her gums. In her eyes, she could feel it prick from her tear ducts, letting her own warm crimson pool around the glowing, humming ore. She wanted to scream, but she was unable to. As she looked up at the dwarven woman, she could only see the sweetest, most innocent look on her face. It was the last thing she could see before her vision became blurred. Soon as such began, she jogged awake. Her body had been ridgid before, but she felt her form move to tear her away from warm arms and safe covers. She felt hot, but as she looked at her shaking palms, felt around her mouth, there was nothing there. A nightmare that had been wrought from the deepest parts of her mind. 

She looked to see the figure beside her. Surprised but also relieved to see with all her movement he hadn't woken up.. She envied him for the first time, for on his face was a look of peace. A feeling not present in her mind, beside her anger and internal attempts to convince herself all would be just fine as she laid back down was a startling realization. She could hide and run from everything and everyone but herself.