Pride, Wolf and Rebellion

Alone

Fen'Asha woke shaking, trembling from the evils in her dreams. Her clan. So much death. She closed her eyes and saw the bodies, a maze of lifeless forms heaped into fiery piles. A maze of accusations and sorrow.

She wanted to know. She wanted to forget.

Her eyes darted around, trying to gain some sense of bearing. She was in her quarters, the quarters she'd trashed hours earlier. The curtains hung in tatters against the moonlight. Broken glass caught the shimmering. Shadows danced.

She was alone and she felt betrayed by all that had been hers. The room was...different.

What had once provided love now provided fuel for nightmares. Without Solas, the room was a tomb.

Maybe a tomb was where she belonged.

Clan Lavellan was supposed to be safe in Wycome. The Duke of Wycome was dead. With red lyrium in the city's wells, disease struck the humans. And the elves were to blame as they always were. Scapegoats, eyeballed with doubt even by transient children clinging to scraps. The Keeper feared violence from the Free Marchers, even as others held fast to other views.

And then? Bloodshed. Brutality.

The Free Marchers believed a lie and killed for it. How many times had this damn story been told across Thedas? Fen'Asha felt the churning in her stomach and resisted, letting the sting impose itself. Letting the violence settle into her core, letting it clench her bones.

She deserved it for her inaction, for the naïveté that sending "diplomats" would ease the horrendous hearts of men bent on doing violence to her people.

Josephine was the first to reappear, the first spectre from the outside world to find Fen'Asha in her room, clinging to sheets and refusing food and water.

"Oh dear," said Josephine as she stepped around the calamity on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed.

"There is glass on the floor," said Fen'Asha, peering up from her curled position in the corner of her bed.

"Inquisitor," said Josephine. "I am so terribly sorry. We have sent diplomats..."

Fen'Asha sighed. "No more diplomats."

Josephine nodded and closed her eyes. "I don't understand how this happened..."

"Because of me," said Fen'Asha. "It happened because of me."

"Inquisitor, please," said Josephine. "Don't say such things. The world is..."

"I did this."

Josephine shook her head. "I won't allow it."

"I did this by doing nothing," said Fen'Asha. "I should have been there myself. I could have stopped them."

Josephine shook her head again. "There was nothing that could have been done. We were too late. If you are to blame, I am..."

"No," said Fen'Asha. "You tried to help my clan."

"As did you, Inquisitor," said Josephine. "You have the weight of the world on your shoulders. You can only do so much against its evils."

Fen'Asha shook her head and pulled the sheets around her as she rose to a sitting position.

"You must take time for yourself," continued Josephine. "I have spoken to the others and we will be demarcating your duties for the next few days. Please rest, Inquisitor."

"But I..."

"Please," said Josephine, standing and surveying the scene. "And I will have someone attend to your needs."