Doom Upon All The World

Chapter 39: Unsettling

      A sheen of silence had settled over everything. Skyhold was wracked with grief. There was not a soul in the compound that did not feel the gravity of the things that were happening. The air seemed to linger, heavy and foul smelling, over all of them. It clouded everything like a thick fog of despair, taking their sullen, shaken, aching emotions and throwing them into the fire to blaze like kindling. Four deaths in three days and no time to mourn each individually. It was like skipping stones. The rock is thrown, hits the water, bounces back up and then can't stop itself from continuing to skid across the surface. Once they started going, they couldn't stop.

      First it took Josie. She'd been weak after the twins were born. Some complication caused her body to reject the healing the others gave. The cold crept into the compound and chilled her to the core, stealing the life from her frail body. Consumed by the grief of the loss of his one great love, the only great love he'd ever known, Tom left Skyhold only to be taken by the wolves. Then, in their effort to bury their friends, Bull and Dorian were attacked. The mage becoming overwhelmed and unable to keep his Qunari lover from watching as he met his unfortunate end. But that was not enough. Gilderoy had to take more from them, had to  make them suffer as much as possible. He took the strongest of them and made him small and weak, making him kneel on the steps as he beheaded him before them. Maeve's heart ached and her stomach lurched to think about it. 

      The children were just beginning to comprehend all of the loss. The Montilyet's had been divided. Philippe was furious. The loss of his mother hardened him but his father's leaving only tempered the steel he was turning to. He receded from his siblings and became indifferent to his surroundings completely. Claude, while spending less time with the other children, decided to instead take care of her infant sisters. She wasn't as changed as her brother but that confident air about her had gone. She was quiet and more closed off. Pierre and Julien clung to one another. Their bond had grown and they looked to their friends for solitude. The numbers they had, the new family they were faced with was all they would need. Chandler and Bellamy were the only two to not see the least bit of effect by these deaths. They hadn't known any of the four. Anthony was attached to his mother's hip. Cassandra was perfectly fine with that, happy to let him stay as close to her as he liked as long as it meant that he would not be held hostage again. Nicolynn and Mythalus started to grasp the severity of the situation and Anthony was clued in by the older Elf. All in all, the children were realizing that the life they knew was long gone and doom was impending over this very dangerous one.

     Maeve rocked on her heals. Back and forth. Side to side. Repeat. She cycled through the rocking, bouncing motion for more than half the day. It was quite the task. She felt responsible. She was the one that should have to do this. She should have to cradle this poor orphaned child in her arms and hear her pained cry as she tried desperately to reach out for one of her fathers. They wouldn't be had though. They were gone. Octavia would never understand that though. Not now. Perhaps not ever. Not if we all die, Maeve thought as she looked down at the red haired child. The sound of the four month old dwarf's crying resounded and echoed loudly through the room. Her chambers echoed enough as it was but with the sharp ringing of the child's distraught whimpers it seemed to grow even louder. 

     She tried her best to soothe the babe throughout the day but nothing was working. She would not take a bottle. She refused to nap. Her underthings did not need changing. She showed no sign of illness. Maeve had dealt with crying, screaming babies before. Mythalus was a quiet child for the most part but at night in those first few months, the wildly wolves of Halamshiral would keep him up for hours with no end to his hollering. Only Solas could ever get him to stop. Only his father's gentle soothing could lull him back to sleep. Maeve knew this was also the case with little Tavvy. She missed her father. Both of them. Dorian had welcomed her into his arms, his family with an open heart, willing to take in a child that had no parents. A child he felt he could identify with because in his mind, he might as well not have had parents. Maeve wondered what Lady Pavus would think. Lord Pavus, Dorian's father, died only a few years after the Inquisition disbanded. How would the Lady react to hear that her only child had now perished as well? Maeve would have to find a way to write to her.